Oscars 2013: You Asked Seth MacFarlane To Host. And You Were Expecting What, Exactly?

I'm not a big fan of the Academy Awards broadcast. I used to be but somewhere along the line, I simply lost interest. At some point I guess that the list of how I could better spend three and a half hours finally got so long that I couldn't ignore it anymore.

I am, however, a big fan of Seth MacFarlane. I've watched Family Guy since the beginning, and I have been a fan of American Dad since it premiered as well. It took me a season or so to get into The Cleveland Show, but I'm there now. Ted was awesome, and the dialog on the Family Guy pinball machine was so hilarious I had to get one for my arcade. It's freakin' sweet (to borrow a phrase).

So when I saw that Seth MacFarlane was hosting the Oscars this year, I made it a point to watch it... on Hulu the next day. (Come on! Between The Walking Dead and The Amazing Race and the Carolina Hurricanes game, the "better stuff to do" list was still too long to even consider watching the Oscars live.)

I have to say that, for the first time in a long time, the show held my interest. I enjoyed MacFarlane's off-color take on his hosting duties. It was basically the Academy Awards, Family Guy Style. In other words, exactly what I expected it to be. What ANYONE should have expected it to be.

Weird thing is, a lot of people were really freaking upset by MacFarlane's humor. And it wasn't that they were pooh-poohing his immaturity (heh heh... I said "pooh-pooh"). They were going right for the jugular! They called him misogynistic. Amy Richardson of the New Yorker said MacFarlane had "...a specific hostility to women in the workplace."

They railed against him for a Chris Brown/Rihanna joke ("Domestic violence is not a joke!"). They said his song, "We Saw Your Boobs" (a goofy ditty highlighting movies where actresses appeared topless) was joking about rape. He made a joke about Zero Dark Thirty, where Jessica Chastain plays a tenacious agent who spends over a decade hunting down Bin Laden, saying it's a tribute to every "woman's innate ability to never ever let anything go." The response: he's a sexist!

Jeez! Get a sense of humor, people!

I'll be the first to admit that MacFarlane's brand of humor isn't everybody's cup of Pawtucket Patriot, but his work is on display for all to see for an hour and a half every Sunday night. (Or at least the ones on which a bloated, over-produced award show isn't taking over the airwaves.) The producers hired him. They knew what they were doing...

...and what they were doing was boosting ratings. The 2013 Oscars had the highest ratings since 2007, thanks in no small part to the choice of host. It got me to watch (a day late), and I've been bored silly by the Oscars for a very long time.

I spent the afternoon arguing on and off with friends who think that my criticism of the lack of humor exhibited by the MacFarlane critics today was out of line. Some felt that the Academy Awards were a family-oriented broadcast, and thus shouldn't have off-color humor. Others thought that the glamor and dignity of an occasion that celebrates the creativity and achievements of others is marred by MacFarlane's brand of base humor.

I totally disagree.

I don't think the Academy Awards have ever been an all-inclusive, bring the whole family kind of broadcast. We're talking over three hours of speeches and over-long musical and dance performances and stars that can't deliver a punch line properly even when it's written in 100-point type on the teleprompter in front of them. The Oscars are BORING! What kid is going to sit still for that long just to see which animated film won? And do they really care about that anyway?

And, while we're on the subject of family-friendly content, let’s look at some of the films that have taken Best Picture over the years. The Godfather (1 and 2). The Exorcist. Chinatown. A Clockwork Orange. Midnight Cowboy. None of these films are movies that any parent should be letting kids who are too young for Seth MacFarlane's humor to see—yet scenes from these films are shown on the broadcast, and the themes of the films are discussed on the broadcast. These are adult films. Hell, Midnight Cowboy was actually rated X when it was released!

As to the dignity of the occasion, I say that's long gone. The days when the Oscars were a celebration of the glitz and glamor of Hollywood have given way to an Access: Hollywood world. People are more interested in stories about the latest Lindsay Lohan nip slip or drunken car chase, and what (or who) Kim Kardashian is doing than they are about stories of rising starlets who are becoming the darlings of the silver screen.

Whereas a celebrity's fall from grace used to be shocking and something that film fans hated to see, it's now what the masses crave. It's insanely hypocritical to bust Seth MacFarlane for off-color jokes that embarrass stars when the stars so often make themselves the butt of the joke.

Let's face it, folks. The Oscars are just another awards show in a cavalcade of awards shows these days. The demographic that Hollywood is trying to reach with the Academy Award broadcast--and with the movies that are getting all of the awards, for that matter--is, today, the same demographic who will be happy that Family Guy is back with all new episodes next Sunday.

So how about we get off our high horses and give Seth MacFarlane a break? He did exactly what he was expected to do: brought in millions more viewers and gave us an Oscars broadcast laced with his own brand of off-color humor.

Hey, if you really hated it that much, you could have turned on AMC and watched The Walking Dead instead. That's what remote controls are for.

Concert Review: Flogging Molly, The Fillmore Silver Spring

Flogging Molly's specialty is reconciling the nonconformity and the mainstream so often at odds with each other in music.

When their album Speed Of Darkness was released, it raged against a flawed system while still somehow participating in it fully, making its listeners feel a little better about the way of the world. Their songs are still powerful and forthright. Their themes speak to the common folks who have been banged up and spit out by the world. The L.A. based Irish group has taken it on the road again. Flogging Molly's stage show contains some of that chest-thumping indignation, but the level of energy and bursts of musical frivolity that accompany it turn out to be a real delight for fans.

Last Tuesday, I spent my evening at The Fillmore in the company of these guys in the midst of their Green 17 tour listening to the rousing anthems and loud powerful lyrics while watching as an audience of mostly upper-middle-class locals and young kids joined together to belt out the urgent punk-tinged songs and stamp loudly on the floor.

Clearly teaching a master class on how to put on a show properly, Dave King and company put their infectious energy and impish goodwill to use and let the vibe waft out over the crowd as even drunken patrons paid the proper respect to fellow audience members and to the band themselves. Pulling the set list from old favorites and newer more powerful songs, they kept old fans and new ones happy and the energy level at full blast from the beginning to the end. In addition to making the lives of all of us in the standing-room-only crowd more exciting, they have clearly worked hard to let us know they are listening.

Concert Review: Skinny Lister, The Fillmore Silver Spring

There wasn't a dull moment to be found Tuesday night as an enthusiastic jumble of mightily excited people shuffled into the sold out Fillmore to get their weekday fix of stomping, jumping, and clinking glasses in time with the rollicking good time sounds of Skinny Lister. Wedged into the always challenging opening spot, Skinny Lister had a Herculean task ahead of them: to warm up and at the same time seduce an audience teeming with Flogging Molly die-hards. They relished the chance and took on that dare full throttle with explosively good results.

The musical forces of nature that brought a multi-generational crowd vibrating with excitement together also helped Skinny Lister take over during their set and prove their mettle. Put it to you this way: no one was checking their watches wondering when Flogging Molly would be arriving; they were all too busy singing along and clapping their hands in unison.

Folk punk front woman and critical darling Lorna Thomas practically caused a small riot when she broke through the fourth wall and catapulted herself off the stage and into the front rows. This had the same effect as if she'd grabbed concertgoers by the collar and commanded them to sit up and take notice. She needn't have worried, The Fillmore audience was already embracing the British newcomers like old friends at the pub.

They didn't get the title of "Hardest Working Band In The UK" for nothing. Oldies as well as songs off of Forge & Flagon rounded out the set and I found that the band's music is edgy enough for young indie fans and bold and unrepentant enough to hook all the aging post-punk veterans who might be listening.

Between the booming stand-up bass, the squeezebox, the thundering drums, and the magnetic and saucy stage show, I could see that they had won some hearts during the evening. They left the stage spent and happy and we stayed fired up long afterward.

Please Skinny Lister, come back and see us again, you hear?

CD Review: Davenport Cabinet, Our Machine

While I certainly wouldn't consider myself a diehard Coheed and Cambria fan, I have yet to come across a song of theirs I haven't liked. I've seen them once in concert, just with some friends as something fun to do, and it was probably the most visually stunning thing I've ever witnessed at the House Of Blues (and that's including Lifehouse and Josh Gracin concerts).

All that being said, when the opportunity came up to review Davenport Cabinet (previously The English Panther), the solo project of Coheed's guitarist Travis Stever, I took it for the above reasons, and the fact that I rarely am available to review something for CB but this was finally a good schedule fit... andddd the fact it meant I was going to score so pretty good free music.

Let's talk about how incredibly worth it this was.

The album starts out with a short instrumental intro, "Night Climb," which serves to build some anticipation for what's to come. It moves on with such... well, interesting tracks. Or rather, an interesting compilation of tracks.

The music range on this album is odd when you break it down, though I didn't notice it until I started breaking down tracks. Everything somehow flows so well together, despite going from one genre of rock to another. Let me explain: we start with Deterioration Road." It's lighter in sound than I would have ever expected, with just an underlying tone of darkness that is entrancing. "Simple Words," which comes right after that, adds in a female vocal on top of a simple guitar strumming.

Judging A Book By Its Cover: The Carrie Diaries

The CW is wiping away the lipstick mark left behind by Gossip Girl's XOXO sign-off and replacing it with orange eyeshadow and blonde curls. The Carrie Diaries is set to be unlocked in January, with 19-year-old AnnaSophia Robb stepping into Sarah Jessica Parker's Manolo Blahniks to play Carrie Bradshaw, falling in love with her first Mr. Big--Manhattan--in 1984.

With nothing to go on but a couple of glossy teaser trailers and some press pics, let's pre-emptively judge The Carrie Diaries by its proverbial designer cover, shall we?



So, this is supposed to be Carrie Bradshaw circa 1984, is it? I don't think so. Even the abysmal Sex And The City 2 got Carrie's '80s look about right, managing to capture how an SATC fan might imagine she'd look back then: a little like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction and not Serena Van Der Woodsen in Gossip Girl.


With the possible exception of editor Larissa Loughton, who promisingly sports hot pink earrings and glittered lapels in the trailer, anyone hoping for some well-researched, meticulously constructed, larger-than-life fashion don'ts will probably be more disappointed than Samantha Jones when she met that hot priest. I mean, I wore more embarrassing and dated outfits back in 2000 than what the CW's version of Carrie wore in 1984. A metallic hanky top with beaded fringing and Spice Girls platforms immediately come to mind--yep, I was a slave to fashion at the turn of the millennium and, incidentally, Sarah Jessica Parker was one of my idols.

"Gangnam Style" Parodies Must Be Stopped

To the surprise of no one, the Glee club from Glee covered "Gangnam Style", officially the most watched video on YouTube ever. It's an understatement that this show has jumped the shark, but this is like finding that shark, strapping him down, and jumping over him another eighteen times. It's one thing to do a tongue-in-cheek version of Rebecca Black's "Friday," but this is just too much. It also seems to take it way to seriously. And, if I am to understand it, they perform this at the finals of a SINGING competition. This isn't exactly the most melodically pleasing song. And finally: was it absolutely necessary to have the Asian character sing this one? Try to watch the whole clip without cringing.

Think you are okay with that one? Now watch this parody from a high school in Pennsylvania and then decide if you think "Gangnam Style" has ruined music forever.

Book Review: New Kids On The Block: Five Brothers And A Million Sisters

If you were a tween girl at the end of the 1980s, there's a good chance that you were obsessed with New Kids On The Block. And I mean obsessed. We;re talking bedspread-owning, VHS repeat watching, huge button wearing, cassette tape wearing-out obsessed. It's unbelievable how huge NKOTB was at the time, even by today's standards. When individuals make it so big so young, we assume that they are going to crash hard, end up in the tabloids, or even worse, Celebrity Rehab. In some ways, we even wish for it; the schadenfreude makes us feel better about ourselves.

All five members of the New Kids On The Block, however, have remained upstanding guys from their days as kids from Worcester through today (in their mid-forties!) as chronicled in New Kids On The Block: Five Brothers And A Million Sisters, an authorized biography by Nikki Van Noy. The author correctly realizes that the story of the New Kids On The Block is not just Jordan, Jon, Danny, Donnie, and Joey’s story; it's also the story of the dedicated fans. Stories of encounters and concert experiences pepper the book throughout, and many of them are quite relatable. (Although I never got to see the New Kids live back in the day. Sniff sniff.)

Van Noy's book gives insight into the formation of the group. Contrary to assumption, the members of the NKOTB, notably Donnie and Danny, made their own music before they joined the group. True, Maurice Starr had a large hand in propelling the guys forward, but each member had musical aspirations, and luckily, all their parents were supportive. (Did you know that the parents even had their own meet and greet and signings with fans?!)

The jump to pandemic stardom was so quick, I am actually surprised how well the boys handled it, considering they were only teenagers. Sure, there was the usual squabbling, the egos clashing, and the temper tantrum behavior. But, at some point, NKOTB was not about the individuals. If there was merchandise that their picture could go on, it was made. The boys had no involvement and had no clue that kitchen spatulas had their faces on it. I'm kidding, I don't think there were NKOTB spatulas. Wait, was there?

Book Review: Kicking & Dreaming: A Story Of Heart, Soul, And Rock & Roll

When I was offered the chance to review the book by the sisters who make up the band Heart, I jumped for it, not because I'm a huge Heart fan but because I wanted to read the story of the women who were pretty much the first hard rocking lady band in rock and roll. And I wasn't disappointed because their stories are pretty fascinating.

The book details their struggles in the '70s (when they were referred to as "Led Zeppelin with tits") because, let's face it, the '70s weren't really all that free of sexual harassment for ladies, especially ladies trying to break in the rock business. At one point their defunct label put out an ad basically implying that the Wilson sisters were incestuous lesbian lovers. These aren't the kinds of stories that you hear from men in the business. It was pretty fascinating/horrifying to see some of the blatantly sexist crap these women have had to put up with over the years.

The book covers a lot of ground and goes into some messy stuff: major drug use in the '80s, Ann's issues with her weight and body image, Nancy's fertility problems, and a bit about her failed marriage to director Cameron Crowe. There's some pretty great stuff in there. And it's not all depressing - there's a hilarious story about stalking Paul McCartney.

If you like rock memoirs then this is definitely worth your time. It's available in tons of places now, including Amazon. The Wilson sisters really paved the way for women in rock and tell their stories, warts and all. Now if you will excuse me, I need to fire up iTunes and start downloading some Heart albums.

DVD Review: Magical Mystery Tour

There's something about seeing the green Apple logo that just makes me happy every single time. When I got my DVD of Magical Mystery Tour to review and saw that little logo on the back, marking it as a part of Apple Films, I knew I would love it no matter how odd it may be.

My mom has a signed and framed poster from this movie, and I think it's the one piece of Beatles paraphernalia she is perfectly fine hiding in the garage. I'm not going to lie: I wouldn't have known it was a Beatles thing right off the bat without a close look for their name. This was about when things went from psychedelic to odd. I was pleasantly surprised to find, though, that the film itself is just a documentation of a really good bus ride.

On the bus itself, we have a cast of characters that, oddly enough, aren't so odd. Ringo and Aunt Jesse bicker, Paul looks incredibly cool next to the movie starlet, and George and Paul are just enjoying the ride. The supporting cast includes a quiet silly man, Buster Bloodvessel (who thinks he's part of the crew), and Ms. Winters and Jolly Jimmy Johnson, our hosts for the ride.

The film is sprinkled with music, of course, but rarely is it on the bus (aside from the occasional sing-a-long of old Irish ditties). Instead, we are removed from the bus to see these sort of mini music videos. First there's "Fool On The Hill" (which is Paul, if you were wondering), then "Blue Jay Way" and "I Am The Walrus," among a few.

Oh, and there's sort of a story. I mean, there is an actual tour and stops along to see the countryside. I think everything's sort of influenced by these "four or five magicians in the sky" who are keeping track of the magic and mystery throughout the ride. There are dreams of passengers of love and fear. But is there a meaning? Maybe not. Or maybe it's just meant to show a lighter ice of life.

But let's get to the real fun... the special features!

Movie Review: Tai Chi 0

My husband sent me an email last week that basically said "we're invited to a screening of a steampunked kung fu film. We're going." And I thought "a what now?" But hey, free weird movie. I am so glad we went because Tai Chi 0 is a thing of beauty. It's basically as advertised: a subtitled Chinese kung fu type movie in which our hero, Lu Chan, AKA "The Freak," (yes, that is how they refer to him) learns that he's been born with the ability to learn and mimic killer kung fu moves just by watching them. So he grows up being a kick ass fighter in a sketchy army. Then he learns he's dying and the only way to save his life is to learn a super secret form of Tai Chi from a little village. And said village is having a problem in which a former resident wants to tear down the village to run a railroad track through it to help modernize China. Enter steampunk machines. And epic battles. I mean, have you ever seen a man fight with a huge chunk of tofu? The cinematography is actually pretty great. The fight scenes are stellar. The story is very tongue and cheek: it's part kung fu, part steampunk, and part Scott Pilgrim and is entirely awesome. Not sold? Check out one of the trailers.



Seriously, I laughed the entire time. Go check it out - it's in limited release in theaters right now. Oh and the sequel, Tai Chi Hero, which is a genius title, is scheduled to come our in January 2013 and the sneak peek for that cracked me up.