A whole lot o' nothing. And then some….
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Oh September….A time of beginnings and a time of endings. Of duking it out (over back-to-school and Jewish holidays), and making up (over back to school and Jewish holidays). Of new wardrobe changes and old wardrobe staples.

And movies. Lots and lots of movies. From the “serious” films that start coming back to festival after festival after festival.

But for audiences living in Toronto, only one thing matters: TIFF. And for me, it’s all about who’s in the Green Room.

Essentially a glorified waiting room, the Green Room is where the celebs and their peeps stop in to shmooze and grab a glass of liquid courage en route from red carpet to Gala stage. This year finds stale popcorn, ferrero roche truffles… and me!! That’s right, I’m flying high on famed photographer Rosemary Goldhar’s coattails. She’s the only photographer allowed into the hallowed space and I’m helping her out placing names and faces, pointing out who’s who and who is sooooo not.

And I’m staying for the movies.

Reviews of faces and flicks will follow over the next week….Enjoy!

The Opening Night Movie. And as Canadian as it gets: Hockey. Toronto. Terrible reviews.

I read one review claiming it was too gay to be for hockey fans, and not gay enough for musical lovers! Another called it one of the worst movies to open the festival in history.

I kinda liked it. What? I like hockey. I like musicals. It had “Glee Bandwagon” written all over it. And intentional, or not, I thought it was funny.

As for The Room….Had no clue. Luckily my old day-school friend (and now famous TV politico/author/whatever) Evan Solomon was there. Hadn’t seen him since university, but he’s the same: only much much taller and more connected. We did carpool reminiscing and some where-are they-nows, and he hooked me up by pointing out the people I should (and didn’t) know from newscasters – Ron McLean! George Stroumboulopoulos! Erm…Evan Solomon! – to government ministers – must I name them? – to actors. New faces, sort-of-familiar faces and… Olivia Newton-John. Oh, Sandy. Why-ai-ai-ai…Oh Sandy…


September 12, 2010   1 Comment


LA Woman

I’ve wanted to go to Hollywood since, well, forever. As a little kid I’d sing songs from Annie, hoping to be discovered… in the privacy of my bedroom. If anyone came even close to my door I’d immediately clam up. Broadway, Hollywood – it was all the same in my 9-year old mind. When I finally got to Hollywood it was the Florida version. And even a 9-year old knew it was pas la meme chose.

And then, I wet my feet in Show Biz, where all roads lead to Hollywood. Except the one I was taking. It went directly to Toronto instead. Yeah, yeah, Hollywood North (or is that Vancouver?). Whatever. I wanted the real deal. And finally, this past weekend, I got just that. My Man took me away from all this and we headed West. To Los Angeles. Hollywood, California. Sun, Sand, Sea…


Yes, kids, I went on my very own private Celebrity Safari!!!

Everyone who’s anyone knows that when you’re on safari it’s all about the accommodations, the food and of course, the animals. Wildebeest and giraffes are cool as hell, but it’s the Big Five that count. Lion. Leopard. Rhino. Elephant. Buffalo. And when you go to LA it’s no different. It’s about where you stayed, where you ate, and who you saw. With a side of where you shopped.

Off we went, eyes peeled, looking for stars and pretending not to. Which is, of course, the Canadian way. Except in the end we may have been a little too nonchalant. We came, we ate, we shopped. But the celeb sightings? Few and far between.

Our safari began almost immediately, with a sighting of Tanya Kim. I know, I know…. Who? OK, she’s not technically a star, but she is one of the hosts of an entertainment show and, as such, counts as a celeb. A local one, sure, but she was in business class. In full makeup. At 11AM. On the safari equivalency test, we’ll say vulture.

We landed at LAX, rented our love machine, and hit the road. First stop, Shutters on the Beach in Santa Monica. A vision of loveliness by the Pacific, it would’ve been even more idyllic had we not arrived at the same time as June Gloom. Never heard of it? Neither had we when we booked our trip. And, apparently, neither had The Weather Network. But it’s the annual cold front that reaches LA at the beginning of June. Accompanied by grey clouds. Lots of ’em. And blustery winds. Especially by the beach. Still, it was perfect walking around weather. Except we were in LA, where everyone drives everywhere, and we’d rented a car. A convertible.

Shutters on the Beach

Shutters on the Beach

But we wrapped ourselves up in our new scarves and jackets – that’s right – and hit the town. We were on a mission: to relax, eat well, see friends and shop (in no particular order). And of course we presumed we’d see stars on every corner. Because that’s what people do in LA right? Right?!

My Man decided it’d be fun to play a little game where he tells me about the various actors he’s spotted while my head was turned. Kind of like those annoying Euros on African Safaris who claim to have been chased down by rhinos, faced off with leopards etc. Only the Hollywood stars were far more elusive than the Big Five. And my husband was way funnier. Except he actually did see Silver (real name unknown, and unimportant) from 90210 while I tried on outfits. And he did work out with Dennis Leary in the hotel gym while I was sampling free chocolates at See’s Candies. Harumph. I saw Atom Agoyan at LAX. From behind. But my guy didn’t think that counted. And it probably didn’t. Too locally accessible. Raccoon.

Strange thing is, all the locals know that all the visitors are looking for the stars. They know where they hang out, what they do, and no one’s shy about telling you where to go to find them. The watering holes they like, the best season to find them. They’re starf&cking and we’re star-hunting. And everybody knows it. It’s weird.

So it became all about where we ate and who we saw. Ivy by the Shore – pas de. Apparently all about the one on Robertson. We shopped and idled a bit but no sightings. But food at the Shore was awesome. And massive. Seriously. Too big even for us. And for those in the know, that’s saying something!

Next day was a local spot to start- Cora’s. Perfect for breakfast. Not so much for movie stars. Followed by Robertson shopping a cruise down Sunset and lunch at Mel’s Diner. Because it’s funny. And it was en route. Mel’s Diner! Hilarious (tho’ the real one is in San Fran….But you make do with what you’ve got, right?) Out with friends for the food and the vibe at STK. Both very good.

But where were all the movie stars?

We headed to Joan’s on 3rd. A guaranteed celeb hangout. Just not while we were there. But incredible food, and hung out with an old friend who happens to be married to an actor who we actually recognize – by face. We imdb’d him on the spot and shared an “I love that guy” moment. So that was kinda neat! Especially since our pal invited us over to meet him in person if our celeb safari turned out to be less than fruitful. We never had to take her up on it – tho we would’ve loved to, had there been more time….Stopped in at that great Los Angeles equalizer, In ‘n Out Burger and went animal style. Bun for him, lettuce for me. Incredible. All they say it is – and less. No frills, no fuss, lots of muss (mess) and deeeeeelish.

It was Saturday night. That’s the equivalent of mid-day on safari. You see nothing. Still, Katsuya held some promise for us. Food was incredible, and the place was crawling with paparazzi – and loads of loser civilians with cam-corders at the ready. According to the bartender, some Lakers were coming. Whatever. Sports stars don’t count. For me. My Man was on the edge of his seat. But no luck. No shows. We were then befriended by a wacky makeup artist who, I was convinced, was looking to grift us in some way. Told us she was working the red carpet the MTV Movie awards the next night and could get us in to all the parties. Even offered to do my makeup. Thought she was just some freak (until we got home, checked out her website and learned she was totally legit. Ooops. Too late.) As we waited for our car, the gawkers whipped themselves into a frenzy….Over Zach Braff (not that any of them knew who they were looking at. The just knew he was “Someone”) . And yeah, he was. He is. But I don’t watch Scrubs. On the safari scale? Impala.

Where were the Lions? The Elephants?

There’s nothing remotely elephantine in LA, despite it being the land of good food. And also, presumably, the land of pukers, druggies, exercise fanatics. Or probably some sort of combo platter. Chateau Marmont showed us the most magnificent creatures we’d ever seen. Ever. One stunner after the next. Had no idea who they were, but it didn’t matter. They just were. Magnificent to behold, fun to watch in their natural habitat, and interesting to witness life behind The Bubble first hand. Breathtaking. Migration of the Wildebeest.

Sunday was the day of rest for us. No safari. Biking in Venice instead. Carney boardwalk. Drum circle that managed to walk that fine line between between cheesy and cool. Freakshows left, right and center. And the laid back hipster vibe of Abbott Kinney. Which I LOVED. Ate quite well at 3 Square Cafe and spotted what looked like Hank’s wife, Karen, from Californication. Which is kinda funny ‘cuz we were in Venice, it’s set in Venice…And it ended up being her! Natascha McElhone. At last! Someone we knew (not personally) from something we’d seen (and pvr’d!). How exciting! How thrilling! We even ooh-ed and aah-ed over a puppy together, cooe’d over her baby together, and acted like we were really cool and didn’t know she was a star of stage and screen (even tho we did) together. We had a moment. A brush with stardom. More a giraffe than a leopard, but still…

Ended our Celeb Safari in Malibu. At the impossibly romantic (yet borderline geriatric) Geoffrey’s. Which they pronounce “Joffrey’s”. Strange. But tasty. And host to two wedding receptions and many dates. Fun fun fun!

On the very last day I drove. By myself. In our car. It was a bit warmer, the sun poked its head out and I realized I’d fallen in like-a-lot. Despite the dearth of sun and stars, my Man and I had the best time. Amazing what 4 nights in a hotel sans kids can do. And who knew LA was such a perfect destination for a long weekend getaway? Definitely beats Buffalo.

As the good guv says, we’ll be back.


Anonymous said…

sounded great.. the best part.. YOU AND YOUR MAN


June 2, 2009   No Comments



At long last, they got it right. They really truly got it right. On Idol that is…


What? You didn’t think I’d let the entire season slip by sans commentary, didya?

Those calls and emails keep coming in – let’s discuss idol. And I do. A lot. But I’ve had some issues.

First off, I’ve been reading some seriously funny commentary. If you haven’t already, you must check out dlisted.com and Entertainment Weekly. Their idol chatter is awesome. Hi-larious. Because it’s all true. Yes, Homer, the old adage “it’s funny ‘cuz it’s true” kicks in every time. So all the pet peeves (and pet names) are already out there. I can’t even claim to be scooped. It is what it is: Matt G’s mole… Adam as kd lang… Lil’s wigs… Anoop’s sweaty upper lip….And of course all the freaky families…. I mean, gosh – who hasn’t noticed and discussed all that, and more?

Aside from those hold outs who still refuse to tune in. You know who you are.

Anyhoo, another issue was Blind Scott. There. I said it. The whole affirmative action element of his being there stressed me out. ‘Cuz he sucked. He was Bruce Hornsby week after week after week. And for those BH fans out there, if there are any, let me add: not in a good way. Sure he was funny but hello? This…..is American Idol. Personality takes a back seat. And sometimes doesn’t even get to come for the ride. I felt I couldn’t discuss openly and honestly until poor old Scotty was given the boot. He was holding me back. Until he finally got the boot….

And still I held back.

Maybe because of Adam. The guy is so above and beyond the rest of the kids. Fat tongue aside, he kills it every time. Not only are the others not in his league – they’re not even playing the same game. The boy’s a pro. The rest, wanna-be’s. He’s Annie Lennox in drag… but not… mixed with kd lang and Elvis, add a sprinkle of Scissor Sisters. A pinch of Mr Bowie. And run the gamut of references that don’t make any sense and let you know I’m zonked. But you get my drift. I think.

As for Frat Boy Anoop Dog and Wiggy Lil – as in “Lily” (why is that so hard to get? Silly Yanks.)… now that they’re out of the picture – at last – we can focus on the rest. And for the first time evah, none of ’em really really bug me!

Which also makes it hard to care too much. Because at this point it’s all good.

Tho’ not perfect.

I still think Alexis Grace’s early boot was a crime. Remember her? The little blonde sexy sprite? She should’ve stuck around – more so than the rubbernecker and flitty chick. And I must admit – I’m bored of Hokey Gokey. One friend called him “the high school friend who you can’t get rid of” and I fear she might be right. His Robert Downey Jr looks and widower status had me at hello. But now? I’m ready to say goodbye.

Unlike Not Hot Kris. Over the past few weeks I find myself looking forward to his performances. And not just to watch those thin lips of his dance across his face – because they do y’know – but because he’s really, really good!

Like Alison Iraheta. At first I found her to be….how shall I say this….somewhat unappealing. That’s putting it mildly. She’s got a real face for radio, that one. Repeated fashion crimes, that terrible lid. Don’t get me started. I know she’s only 16 but what’s wrong with using a stylist like everybody else??? Yet that voice… Heart-esque tho it may be, it is wicked. She’s completely won me over. Which is why I can’t for the life of me understand how week after week she ends up in the trash heap. At least she climbs out.

Like my man Matt G. I don’t know why, but he’s been my main guy from the start. Yes, even from the audition shows. I think it’s because he’s a duelling pianist in real life. Love that! And the whole Vince Vaughan Timberlake thing? Can’t beat it. Sure he’s somewhat misguided when it comes to genre and song choice. And yeah, he can be a bit of a sour puss – personally I think he should get over it and let the tears flow. America loves a cryer! The judges are very hot and cold with him. But I think its’s their strategy. ‘Cuz everytime they bash him, he gets votes. And when they sing his praises, he’s a goner. Almost. The judge’s save would’ve saved whoever was out last week (timing and all – they had to use it, right? And too obvious to do it on the final day, right? ). Still, I’m glad the ass they saved was his. I’m a sucker for a pianist. All those lessons….

That said, I do think my boy Matt will be the next to bite the dust. Followed by Rouge Iraheta. And Flappy Hands Gokey. Leaving us Kris and Adam duking it out in the final. Which wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Unlike Archie Archuleta’s performance ce soir. Same earnest spit smile. Same insipid song choice. Could’ve been worse. Could’ve had no pvr….


Anonymous said…

I would kill for an alison adam final – but it will be Kris Allen – so boring, yet singing well. Every interpretation he “makes his own” he puts me to sleep a la John Mayer!!!!

12:12 PM

Leigh said…

Uch, oh, yuk! Adam? Kill me now. His mommy took him to the rock star store and bought him some outfits. And then she took him to her hairstylist and manicurist to top it off.

I hate his Geddy Lee impression and his entire pretend your surprised you’re doing well approach (Archuleta style).

When he’s sincere he’s way better. LIke that moment he found out he was in the bottom two. Heh.


April 22, 2009   No Comments


I’m Up Now

Well, well, well. I stand corrected – and joyfully so. They got it right! They veered off the middle of the road and got, ahem, Cookin’!

David Cook is The American Idol. Duh – what rock have you been under??

Mouth breather out. Rocker in. 80’s icons on. Now that’s good tv. Just when you thought it was safe….It wasn’t!

I actually loved the big finale. Despite the fect that, at the exact moment Ryan uttered the magic words, “the winner is…”. Poof! (No, not Ryan…) (well, OK that too). But at that exact second -Poof! – the show ended. My PVR failed me. Again. Luckily I’ve learned from seasons of yore to record whatever’s on next. So we switched over in time to see Fartchuleta’s stage dad clapping insincerely. And that’s when I knew, it was Cook time. Thank god, on so many levels. Can you imagine the stage dad’s reactions had his dullard child won? Waaaaay OTT. And the press? Gee. Duh. Erm…

Instead we got tears. Lots of ’em. Betcha the word nerd wished he didn’t choose this night to start wearing eyeliner, huh? Obviously he went for water-proof. I knew he was a smarty! And the brotherly love. And the mom trying to get in on the spotlight. A family affair…..How lovely.

But back to the show…..Graham Nash? Lucky Brookey. Donna Summer? Lucky ladies. Syesha – way to work third sister! Her skirts get shorter and her confidence grows. It just goes to show you, she really was the best of the girlies – mainly because of the meat, but still – can you imagine the nurse? She seemed embarrassed to be there. Unlike Chickezie – love, love, love.

It was 80’s night (aside from the slew of youths that I fast forwarded). Showing my age, perhaps, but I’m about to turn 40, I can do what I like. ZZ Top, the Groover from Vancouver, Seal….yada yada yada. At the end of the day, the faux pips aside, for me it was all about George.


All season long I’ve been wondering why they didn’t do the George Michael/Wham songbook. He’s on tour (at over 2 hun a ticket, sadly), has a new greatest hits album to promote, has been whoring himself out nicely across the small screen. The timing couldn’t be any better. And he would’ve been perfect for Cookie and the Aussie. Still, waiting ’til the end was OK. Sure he sang a slow song. With a cold (and acknowledged it, bless him and his ego). Despite his fromagerie, his lady Loren shades, and his possible plugs, he’s still awesome. And somehow reminding me of Christian Troy – anyone else getting that?

Simon apologizes. Archie loses. DC wins. And another season of Idol come to a close.

Happy endings to all, and to all a good night.

Now who’s got tickets to the Top Ten tour?


Anonymous said…

if you think George had acold I have some swamp land for you in Florida! He looked like a wreck – kind of Freddy Mercury although George’s issue is drugs and it shows on his person and his voice. I thought it was an imposter at one point!

Throw back night galore – loved it! ZZ TOP was the best and I think Carly and Michael should put out a duets album together a la Marvin Gaye and Diana Ross (by the way – it’s not Lawrence – it’s me!)

7:05 AM

Rayanne Langdon said…

What a solid synopsis of the final show! I didn’t realize the producers let David A’s dad back in the audience after he was given the initial boot. Heh.


May 21, 2008   No Comments


Blabber Chat

Boy yoy yoing…it has been ages. Sorry children. Been a wee bit preoccupied. Where to begin?Let’s start with some idle….I mean Idol talk.

The telethon – a good cause, natch, but oh so earny earnesto, no? Celebs lipsynching to the Bee Gees? Why, oh why? (foreshadowing, perhaps?) All funny men were funny, but Teri Snatcher? When will America speak and send her back to the c-list? Still, all the power to them, getting spoosrs and regular joes to pay up…and then taking all the credit Idol Gives Back? Erm, no, Idol watchers give back. Idol gave nothing. Only Ellen did. Those Idol folks really are media geniuses.

Loved Blake’s Jon Bon perf. L-o-v-e-d it. With his new ‘do he looks like Bono. Intense stare, pas de lips… Don’t get me wrong, sportsfans, he’s no Bono. But I think he’s awesome and hope he wins the whole damn thing. Read it closely – don’t think he will win, but am living in hope. Last week we said adios to Nasal Beckham Timberlake and, dare I say it, Cancer Boy Phil. (Reference should be obvo, but if it isn’t, don’t fret. It’s not cuz he has cancer, just looks like it.) So now it’s The Ladies v. Blake. And guess what next week is? DISCO. With the king of the tight white pantaloons, Mr Guilty himself, Baz Gibb…..Moment for the Brothers no longer with us. And Andy….And back to the show: Woo hoo! Can’t wait for it!

On other MOAM news, we’re no longer all about the shits at our house. Not as much as before, anyway… #1 son has made it to the toilet. That’s the good news. The bad news? We’ve had, erm, toilet traffic jams. We’re talking grid lock. Stand stills. So now we really need to move house. Who wants to share with a 3 year old who can’t wipe his own ass? Pas moi.

Gee, what a great lead in….

We are moving house! Yes, the real estate gods have been kind to us. We found our dream-for-now home – and only had two other bidders to contend with. Talk about tense. In the end, an acknowledgement of The Princess Bride won us the house…Oh, Wesley… More space, more rooms, more toilets. More house. Now we have to fluff our own.

Tell me, movers, does everyone fluff? Or just purge? Do you stay in you house or hit the road? Once the crap’s out, how do you let it back in? Or do you just start accumulating all over again? Inquiry minds wanna know. And I need to know. I won’t be a moving maven until later this summer, so let’s discuss.

Since I plan on turning from gossip rags to decor mags I’ll share some cheesy-in-a-good-way sites: www.dlisted.com, idontlikeyouinthatway.com, and of course Perez, Lainey and TMZ. Such good wastes of time and will save you big bucks on mags. Unless you double dip paper and web.

Wondering where I’m going with all this? Me too.

Erm….nowhere. Fast.

But the tribe has spoken and I had to give ’em something, so a little ramble should satisfy. For now. When the head’s elsewhere, the typing fingers follow. I’ll be back – on better form for-sure-cross-my-heart – next week. Or the week after. Stay tuned….


May 4, 2007   No Comments


Old News

Oscar who?

The fat lady has sung. And won awards for it. But once the Academy has strutted its stuff, once we’ve seen the outfits, the frozen faces, the sore losers, the passed over , what’s really left to discuss? Ellen? Not bad, not bad at all. Was I rolling in the aisles? Um, no. ut Jack Black and Will Farrell and John C Reilly were hilarious. Maybe they should host next year. Really, they should. All musical comedy, all night long. Oh, wait, that was Billy Crystal. Admittedly, I miss those songs….

So why write now, you ask? Well, simply put: because you asked. I’ve received more than a few emails wondering where the Oscar talk was. I figured everyone and his brother and her mother-in-law are blogging about Oscar. Or were. What’s done, is done. But I’m a bit of a crowd pelaser, so hear I am, BOD. Blogging on Demand.

And since you asked…

Does anyone else think that Jerry Seinfeld was there to subtely pitch himself as next year’s host? His new Bee Movie aside, what’s he done for us lately?

La Kidman. Oh, Nic, what have you done with yourself? Turned from Batman heroine to the Joker. And Mr Freeze. That face! Once so gorgeous, now so….still. She’s always been like a statue – but now her face is too. And not in a good way. According to one of my gossip hound friends, she’s being written up as being 35. 35!!!!! She’ll be 40 this year. Or at least 39. A fellow gemini, I like to keep track. Obviously she does not.

Murphy’s Law. Bird in hand. Calll it what you want, but Eddie’s loss was the scoop of the night. And no one was more surprised than the man himself, who promptly left. Grow up, Edward!

JHu should take a leaf out of JLo’s book and learn how to do the red carpet. The latter, always perfect. The former, I know she’s a newcomer but come on! My mom always told me, never put your hands in your pockets. Someone should’ve told Jen H. Fact is, when you’ve been generously endowed in certain areas, you either accentuate the positive (Ms. Lopez), or you hide it. Drape it. Skim over. You don’t thrust your hands into your fancy shmancy dress. On the red carpet. Or anywhere. It’s simply not a good look. From skimming to straining in a matter of seconds.

That’s about all, sportsfans. While the list goes on, I shalll not. Unless, of course, you’d like to discuss Idol. I figured I’d wait ’til the top 12 are chosen, considering these ealry exiters will be promptly forgotten. They’re the best of the worst, after all, chosen to put – and keep – the real talents in teh spotlights. But let’s let them enjoy their moments in the spotlight, brief as it may be.

Oh, before I leave you….dedicating Let’s Get it On to your parents? That ain’t right.

Go Beat Boxer! Go JT Beckham!



Anonymous said…


11:13 AM

Anonymous said…

It was Kidman’s lips that threw me! She did have very thin ones, but come on – she’s turning into Barbara Hershey. I predict that all this work is going to screw up her career. I feel bad for these women who are evaluated on their looks and then starve themselves or get surgery to keep up appearances and boom, we drop them for being crazy! And yes, I think she is.

12:36 PM

Anonymous said…

Oh, MOAM– your Oscar talk is right on– though Jerry seemed sorta… mean… like he was slumming or something. Don’t forget Jerry, you’re a TV STAR– you may have more money than the front row combined, but c’mon– lighten up. No surprises– except for Alan Arkin– what a great speech. And did anyone notice that because they’re so strict with the time limits on speeches that EVERYONE had there’s written down? No “you like me, you really like me” moments anymore. No one-handed pushups. No spontaneity at all. And the show still ran late! Maybe it was because of the shadow puppets? Also, the nominees are already there– we want our celeb fix– no nominees as presenters! Pad the show! Used to be the co-stars of upcoming movies would get out there– Queen L and John T weren’t even allowed to mention “Hairspray” by name– even though they played them on with music from the upcoming movie! And if you’re gonna trot on Hollywood royalty to give away the Best Picture Oscar– make sure it’s someone in a wheelchair! Was Kirk Douglas unavailable?


February 28, 2007   No Comments


Oscar Talk

It’s official. The biggest lunchbag letdown in showbiz has announced its contenders. Who’s the little gold guy gonna go home with? And does anybody still care?

Yep, it’s Oscar time. So wake me when it’s over.

The Academy Awards has lost its spark. Not that this is news to anyone, but it’s sort of sad nonetheless. Will I still tune in? OF COURSE! But I’ll be bracing myself for the inevitable disappointment. Not because of the cheesy song ‘n dance numbers. And not because of the overall earnestness. And definitely not because of the below-the-line-people’s speeches. In fact, I kinda like those – especially when they thank their families and dead relatives. Those speeches, the death montage and all the tear-jerking sucky stuff I kinda dig.

No, the real reason for the letdown is because every other major award has already been given out, so there really are no surprises. DGA’s, PGA’s, SAG’s. Every critic and their circles. And of course the Golden Globes. It’s like unofficial insider trading to determine who will win the official Oscar race. In fact, nowadays the only way to win an Oscar pool is to correctly guess the short film and documentary categories. For everything else, the work is done.

Still, it’s exciting to hear about Dreamgirls. The most nominations of all. Sure they missed the biggies, but let’s face it, it’s all about Effie. Always has been, always will be. No wonder audiences burst into spontaneous applause when Jenny Hudson belts it out. She’s spectacular. So much so that when asked “Have you seen Dreamgirls?” the only possible answer I could give is “how many times?” (OK, that’s a bit of a spice. Despite my best intentions to go again and again and again, I’ve still seen it but once. But hey, I have the cd – movie and play – in the car. It’s the next best thing to being there. What? There’s lots of flicks out there. Who has time for traders?!)

Looks like Marty Scorcese will finally get his Oscar. Not because The Departed is his best work, but because his time has come. And gone. And come again. And gone. And come again. The Academy loves doing that. Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman, anyone? I liked The Departed and I LOVED Marky Mark in it. But best picture? By the end the entire theatre was laughing – out loud laughing – as the body count rose.

Best Actor race has Mr Whitaker’s name all over it. Haven’t seen Last King O’ Scotland. And I don’t really want to. Maybe because I read the book years ago. For work. Back when I used to work. And I passed on it. Didn’t think it was a movie. Oops. But he seems like a nice enough fellow, and that droopy eye always gets me, so Go Forest, Go.

Yes, I know it’s Helen Mirren’s year, but if I had a vote, and if it counted, it would be for Dame Judi. Always. Personally, I think Ms Mirren is a TV actress. An awesome TV actress, but I never can get past Prime Suspect. I also think The Queen is a TV movie. A very good TV movie, but a TV movie all the same.

But what do I know?

I know that Little Miss Sunshine was fantastic. And that Sasha Baron Cohen was robbed (robbed!). And the saying “yah man” in a South African accent is enough to score a person an Oscar nom. And that Ellen is hosting. I also know that I’m rooting for Babel – in every category. (Even the best supporting actress ones that it so deserves but will never get. Don’t tell). And I know that no matter how you slice it, the best song demos always bite. Big time.

Oh who am I kidding? It’s the Oscars….and it’s all about the outfits!

Posted by Mother of all Mavens at 2:24 PM


Anonymous said…

Kelly from the Bad News Bears was nominated!!! I can’t even deal with looking at him he freaked me out so heavily. I can’t decid if it will be Marky Mark or Alan Arkin as they both stole the movie – what do you think? I know everyone says Eddie, but will oscar? And as much as I love Kate Winslet – whatever on the nom. And Will Smith instead of Sacha Baron Cohen in his sickly sweet movie !!! What’s up with taht?

8:05 PM

Anonymous said…

who are you kidding. you’re already stocking up on peppermint patties.

9:28 PM

Anonymous said…

How can you do an entire post about the Oscars and not mention the biggest and best surprise of the entire awards season put together???????? Ryan Gosling (the most underrated actor EVER) was nominated!! Finally!

And puh-leez, enough about Jennifer Hudson. PLEASE, I don’t want to hear her say “it’s just more than i ever could have dreamt, I always dreamed but never this big, blah, blah, blah” anymore…WE KNOW. You are just sooooo humble and so innocent..whatever.

So long as Ryan shows up.

(OK, I feel better now).

10:44 AM

Anonymous said…

Oh MOAM– Babel this! You’re obsessed. And of the noms, it’s certainly the most desrving. And I agree– The Queen? TV-movie all the way. I saw it again, on a plane, and it was a perfect fit. Little Miss Sunshine? What-ev. There’s always an indie that everyone has to get behind because it doesn’t suck as hard as the other indies we go see hoping that the indie is still thriving. Let’s get real– there are very few indies that are actually still indies and because Little Miss S (in a mini-dress) crossed over, it’s everyone’s Little Darling (now there’s a movie ripe for re-make– though I think Dakota– now that she’s ‘growing up’ has likely optioned it– maybe she can do it with Abigail Breslin in the Kristy McNichol part). But speaking of ‘crossing over’ — and to quote… “he feels the Dreams can cross over…” Obviously not. What up with that? Has Oscar fallen out of love with the musical? Dreamgirls is way better than Chicago. Could it be that Hollywood ignored this because of the African American cast? The gay director? The fact that it’s well-written, well-shot, well-edited, well-lit, well-costuned, and well… well-everything. And this is not just because I am an admitted DG-head. Even if it didn’t get the Best Pic nom– Best Director– hello? Do the voters think J-Hud arrived on-screen fully formed? So what makes me happy– Ryan Gosling was excellent, Marky Mark was excellent, I didn’t see Little Children but you gotta love a comeback story. The real oversight: Children of Men NOT in the Best Picture & Best Director category. If anything’s gonna bump the Dreams– it should’ve been this! Looking forward to the medley of the 3 nominated songs though. It’ll be so sad when they lose to Prince. Who come to think of it would’ve made a great James Thunder Early!

12:30 PM

Anonymous said…

okay– so Prince wasn’t nominated– even after wining the Globe. Make way for Randy– and I mean: make WAY. Are they gonna go all cancer-pity and give it Missy Etheridge? Come to my window– and jump out of it!


January 23, 2007   No Comments


Coming Soon to a Theatre Near You

Did everyone watch Oprah today?

No, wait…I mean, did everyone PVR Oprah today?


Oh, poor souls, you missed out. You really did.

Disclaimer: I am not, by nature a daytime TV person. Never have been. When the sun goes down, that’s a different story – the remote comes out. But I have too many guilt issues with daytime telly – unless I am severely under the weather or there’s some hideous ambulance-chasing newsflash I can’t turn away from. Reruns of sitcoms, maybe Ellen, OK. But Oprah? Very, very, rarely. I did watch the cast of Friends goodbye show, but that’s about it.

See, when it comes to Ms Winfrey, I’m not a fan. In fact, she kinda bugs me. I kinda liked Fat Oprah. And Sophia-from-The-Color-Purple-Oprah. And I can appreciate and barely stomach Do-Gooder-Friend-of-Nelson-Mandela-Oprah. But thin-, marathoned-, and star-f&cking Oprah? Not for me. Too condescending. Too Benevolent Ruler of Minivan Moms in audience. Too earnest. Too annoying.

BUT I put it all aside for today. I got over my aversion to Oprah and to daytime TV for today. I really let myself go to the edge of the couch for today….For today was DREAMGIRLS day.

Yes, it’s true. DREAMGIRLS has arrived. Ish. More specifically, it’ll arrive at your local theatre on Christmas day. The lucky ones in LA and NYC will, as always, get it sooner, as will a handful of other selected spots (please please please let Toronto be one of them) (I know, it probably won’t) (if you don’t ask, you don’t get) (why am I having a paranthetical conversation with myself) (because I can)…

My Euro friends, you probably don’t even know what DREAMGIRLS is, let alone when it’s coming. So you can just read along, safe in the knowledge that a damn fine show has been turned into a supposedly damn fine film and that you can – and should – book your tix AND your seats in advance.

So there they were: Beyonce, James Foxx, Anika-something-or-other, Ed Murphy and my fave, Jennifer Hudson. Her god-fearing (and spouting) ways aside, I love her. And so did the audience. She got a longer standing O than the Mighty Murphy. More whoops than the other folks combined. Rightfully so, folks, rightfully so.

For the eight of you people who didn’t watch American Idol a couple of season back, she was one of the 3 divas. Fantasia, someotherchick, and Ms Hudson. She sang the Dreamgirls’ showstopper (do I have to spell out everything? “I am Telling You I’m Not Going”). She was the first of the best to be booted, but baby, look at her now! Word on the street (and on the web) is she’s the one to watch. As it should be. She was Effie on Idol and she’s Effie now. Jennifer Hudson? The new Jennifer Holliday.

Beyonce (and, parents, it’s pronounced Bee-yon-say, not Bee-Yawns) was, as always, a real lady. Babydoll Pajama dress aside, she was poised, stunning, and modest. A glamorama movie star ’til the end – complete with costume change. And, yes, she sang. She sang the one song that didn’t come from the original soundtrack. Y’know, the Disneyfied, lyrically-on-the-nose, lame song: the Oscar song. B’s pipes were so outstanding that she actually gave some life to a truly lame tune. Now that’s star power.

There was the other chick, the Tony award winner whose name escapes me. She plays Lorell. The one no one really gives a shit about. But she gets a solo, and a paycheck and gets to be on Oprah, so let’s not pity her.

Moving on.

Jamie Foxx. Talented? Yes. Hot? Yes. Somewhat runty? Kind of. He described himself as shiny. That says it all. Shiny good and shiny bad. And then they played some clips of him as Curtis. Clips he was proud of. Clips in which he sang all his own songs. May I remind you that he did no such thing in Ray. And maybe that’s good thing. ‘Cuz I’ve got two words for you: Weak Link. Yes, yes, yes, I’m sure his performance will be stellar. But a balladeer he ain’t.

Now, was it me, or did Funny Murphy seem kinda sad? Cliche, I know, the sad clown and all, but he did. He seemed out of sorts and kind of down. Maybe Eddie finds Oprah annoying too. Or maybe he’s just whipped by Scary Spice. Whatev – the few sound clips of him as James Thunder Early? Erm….smoking!

I first saw Dreamgirls when I’d pulled my braces off at sleepover camp so I could go home and call a boy I liked. I was that kind of girl. His number turned out to be unlisted (loo-hoo-ser), but I got to go and see Dreamgirls. And then I saw it again on Broadway. I’ve had my mother quoting it to me for years. I’ve sung every breath of every song in countless car rides. I’ve participated in (and nearly wrecked) an amateur production of the thing. I’ve cast the movie in my head and – I don’t mind bragging – pegged Beyonce and Jenny Hudson long before the producers even did. I even watched The Oprah Earnest Show to get a glimpse of the Dreamgirls Dreamteam. Along with a handful of other diehards, I’ve been waiting for this moment for 25 bloody years, so please, forgive my excitement.

And now, I pass that excitement on to you, loyal readers. Let the countdown begin:
One month, five days…


Anonymous said…


1:13 AM

Anonymous said…

“When I first saw you… I said “oh my, that’s my dream”. Not only is DREAMGIRLS THE SEMINAL 80S MUSICAL (ok– name another one, c’mon… just as I thought) and Michael Bennett’s last (notable) hurrah– it would be really easy to mess the movie up. (‘Rent’ anyone?) This is the same guy who directed ‘Gods & Monsters’ & ‘Kinsey’. Fine films, yes, but paced like the tortoise from the age-old fable. DREAMGIRLS is the definitely the Hare. In any case, it looks like they did the right thing– the movie looks stunning– and not just from a theatre-geeky, broadway-only p.o.v. I’ve been casting Dreamgirls in my head for years and while I would’ve liked to have seen it made when La Holliday was still young enough to play Effie onscreen (again, ‘Rent” anyone?), Ms. Hudson certainly fills those shoes. But I really think this film was waiting for the ascent of Ms. Knowles. She IS Deena. (And Deena, it’s only the beginning!) And hello, no slighting Lorrell (who loves Jimmy, it’s true…)– Anika’s got the most chops of the three, and for a theatre chick she even looked stylish. Besides, they had to get a bargain on someone to pay for Foxx & Murphy. By the way, Eddie Murphy, get your Oscar speech ready. I called it when they announced the casting and I’m sticking by it. Beyonce, you may have to wait your turn when they call Ms. Mirren to the podium. But everyone in the room will know who’s really the Queen! Lastly– who knew all it took was writing a letter to Oprah to get tix to the L.A. premiere. That D’Shawn guy was the highlight of the show– ultimate Dreamgirls fan, though? I, and perhaps MOAM, beg to differ!

9:17 AM

Anonymous said…

By the way, that some other chick on Idol was your pick to my Fantasia!!! How soon we forget. And Jamie Foxx did his own singing in Ray. Also as Ray in Kanye West’s Goldigger. (note to Other comment – Gods & Monsters is paced perfectly and gay enough to prove he could direct Dreamgirls! No pacing aside please.) Lorrell does love Jimmie and even though “Lorrell and Jimmie are through” – who does give a shit about Lorrell. I’m with the MOAM on that one. Can’t wait for Murphy to be getting in the “Hot tub!” He will finally make up for “My girl wants to party all the time.” I have loved him forever and think he is brilliant!


November 21, 2006   No Comments