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Archive for the ‘Retro’ Category

Earlier this week, I posted something about the right kerfuffle involving Warner Bros., Daniel Radcliffe, and the Broadway production of How to Succeed….

The theatre's a small world, isn't it?

Well, according to Playbill.com, the Warners won.

 

Victory calls for Comic Sans.

Actually, this isn’t that big a deal.  I understand it’s just business.  (Or maybe it is a big deal:  Is this equivalent to the film saying theatre doesn’t matter?)   But two things stick with me.  The first is that selling out three nights of a Broadway show is about $500,000, which isn’t a huge amount of money and yet still covers about a half a week’s salary for lot of actors, technicians, ushers, etc., plus running costs, royalties, and all that good stuff.  The second is that, in the film industry, that same $500,000 is a nuisance.  It’s mind-boggling.  You could probably add all the budgets of all the shows I’ve ever done, and it still wouldn’t add up to $500,000.  In this case, it’s just an obstacle to getting a star to do some press.

But I digress.  This post isn’t about How to Succeed…, Broadway, or even the Harry Potter franchise.  It’s about the Warner Brothers.  And their sister Dot.

 

The theme of today's puzzle.

It’s Yakko’s world.  We just live in it:

Not to be outdone, Wakko rules the country (and he starts with my favorite capital city):

And Dot’s cute:

So, if How to Succeed… is dark those nights, then WHO’S ON STAGE?

Hahaha!  I love that show. 🙂

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This makes me extraordinarily happy.

 

 

She’s Sweet Emma Barrett, she’s old-school New Orleans, and she will make your day.

The real deal.

 

 

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So, Warner Bros. is at war with the producers of the new revival of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, over their refusal to release Daniel Radcliffe to do press and red-carpet for the final Harry Potter movie.  Radcliffe’s contract keeps him in NY and in the show until November, while the movie opens in July.  Warner Bros. feels they can’t adequately promote the film without Radcliffe, but How to Succeed producers have held firm, forcing the studio to buy out the houses for the nights they want Radcliffe, to the tune of about a half-a-million dollars.

It’s chump change, really, when you consider that the Potter franchise has grossed over $6 BILLION WORLDWIDE. To put that in perspective, based on my salary last year, I’d have to have lived 600 million years to make that kind of money.    Are they really concerned that if Harry Potter himself isn’t there, the movie won’t open big?

Can you find yourself?

 

Are they seriously worried about this?  Between the books and films, HP is a phenomenon that we’re not likely to see again in our lifetimes (unless it involves some skeevy, sparkly vampire, and even then, only maybe).

 

HARRY POTTER TATTOOS!

HARRY POTTER FAN ART!

HARRY POTTER FAN FIC!

HARRY POTTER FOOD!

HARRY POTTER COSPLAY!

HARRY POTTER PICK-UP LINES!

HAIRY POOTER PORN!  (NSFW)

 

So, really, Warner Bros., thanks for “supporting” the theatre, and kudos to the How to Succeed producers for standing up to Goliath.  As for the show, it just went into previews, but the images I’ve seen from it so far are distinctive.  Here’s Hedy LaRue, on the left:

She does look great, though.

 

And here’s the Evolution of Bud Frump, from the 1960s to today:

 

From realistic nerd to fashion icon. See you in the Village, Bud!

 

The ad campaign and poster art are gorgeous, though, and another comparison leaps immediately to mind.

Hm. There are even faint buildings in the background.

 

 

 

I’m not imagining this, right?  You see this?

 

Palette, style, pose, truth, justice, and the American way.

 

And what’s amazing is you take the glasses off Clark Kent, and you get Superman; but if you put the glasses ON Daniel Radcliffe, you get…

The Boy Who Lived

 

Somehow, I think neither Warner Bros. nor How to Succeed have anything to worry about.

 

 

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DANIEL-SAN IS ALMOST 50!

This shocking scoop appears in the cast announcement for the latest installment of Dancing with the Stars, a show I literally have never seen.

Here’s the link: http://insidetv.ew.com/2011/02/28/dancing-with-the-stars-cast-ralph-macchio/?hpt=T2

 

I think it’s great that he’s being up front about it.  The Karate Kid was 27 years ago.  He’s not one of those people who has to hide his age, like some of the other gals.

He likes to stretch…

Sally O'Malley-san will show the way.

 

Kick…

Impressive extension, both of you.

 

And heeeee’s 50!  50 years old!

He still looks the same, though.

 

For perspective, also on this season of DWTS is 60-year-old Kirstie Alley, who made her movie debut in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan in 1982.  Alley was 31 then, and co-star Leonard Nimoy was 51.  Here’s a shot of them then:

Too harsh?

 

And here’s a recreation of that iconic pose today:

Again, too harsh?

 

I wonder who’ll sweep the leg to try to bring Daniel down.  Wendy Williams?  The wrestler?  L’il Romeo?  I’m breathless with anticipation.

But I’ll still probably never watch it.

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Is this happening everywhere?  Today, on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon – the 27th of February, in fact – walking around Park Slope, I was struck by the sheer number of people who won’t or can’t let Christmas 2010 pass into the record books.

(I took every single one of these pictures, and I took them earlier TODAY.  And by today, I mean Sunday, 27 February 2011.)

This is how it went down:

I’m walking to the Key Food for toilet paper and a roll of quarters (unrelated necessities), and I see this in the window of the New China Tung nearby:

We have this very same decoration. The one in the middle, I mean.

 

By itself, no big deal.  One random Christmas decoration in one random window does not a crisis make.  But then, in the Key Food itself, I see this in the breakfast aisle, between wheat germ and oatmeal:

Egg Nog for breakfast? Maybe. But only in DECEMBER, where it belongs!

 

Weird, huh?  Well, wait!  Walking home, I begin to notice the scary abundance of neglected Christmas all around me.  For example, a massage parlor:

"Away in a Massage Parlor..." "Acupuncture Fideles..."

 

The  vegan yogurt place:

At least they're owning up to the "year-round" thing.

 

One of the five-thousand real estate agencies on 5th Avenue:

Subtle, but still wrong.

 

Nearly apoplectic with shock, I hurried home.  But when I took Margot out for a walk, the horrors followed me.

A parenthetical observation:  One of the strangest sights in New York is the proliferation of dead trees after Christmas.  It starts literally the day after, with dead trees strewn on curbs in front of buildings inhabited by people who probably shouldn’t have bothered with the Christmas fuss at all if they were so ready to ditch the damn things.  Then, it continues for weeks, well into January, with tree carcasses finally appearing on the stoops of people who are fascinated with decay, or who really like the smell of dried pine, or who were probably just too busy to take the ornaments off the dead thing in the living room.

But it’s the penultimate day of February.  There is no excuse.

Please take me...six weeks ago.

 

My whole block is a feast of sad Christmas blight:

It didn't grow this way, but this is how it will DIE.

 

A-wreath-a Funklin

 

Seven Deadly Sins: Lust, Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, and WREATH

 

A stick in a door? A crappy half-string of lights? YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY!

 

Let it NO.

 

In one building, you can even see Christmas crap haphazardly piled in the window, as if a tornado of good sense swept up (almost) all the other neighborhood decorations and deposited them here.

 

This is where Christmas goes to die.

 

I think the best shot I took is of desiccated evergreen with fake berries in a window planter.  I like it because the silhouette reflection of another tree in the window reminds me of the evil forest at the beginning of Tales from the Darkside.

 

Because dragging Christmas into March is EEEEVIL.

 

Maybe I’m overreacting.  Maybe the sustained celebration of holidays is just a New York thing.  I mean, look what was in my miso soup today:

 

Aw, you love me? Well, I loved you two weeks ago.

 

To be fair, I passed New China Tung again later on, and I noticed something positively progressive on their door:

 

You'd think this is for Easter. You'd be wrong.

 

But then I realized…it’s not Hoppy Early Easter.  No.

 

It’s Hoppy Late New Year…of the Rabbit.

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I have two MFAs in writing for the theatre, and I still don’t know “how” to do it. Would that I had seen this video before spending all that time and money. (Warning: It’s one of those annoying ones that force you to watch it in YouTube.)

I wish it were parody. She should have gone ahead and entitled it “How NOT to Win a Pulitzer Prize for Drama,” because she tells you to do the opposite of everything Margaret Edson did. But in all fairness, she’s right: Wit did not play on the Broadway.

Don't try to win this. Ever.

I also love her palpable disdain for Disney, as if the imprimatur were some automatic guarantee of long-running success on the Great White Way.

Remember us?

And giving added support to her legitimacy as a theatrical maven, pundit, advisor, and sage, there is the subtly placed collection of books in the lower right corner of the frame, including Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian, which also (so far as I know) has never been a Broadway show.

Feminist Theatre, Blood Meridian, and Virginia Woolf...hmmm, I sense an agenda.

She’s got other helpful tips as well.  (Again, you will watch in YouTube, ’cause they say so.)

I want to do one about how to make a contemporary video look like it was shot in 1978 through the use of flowering plants, non-descript office space, and a hairstyle that looks like the youngest daughter on Eight is Enough.

Elizabeth Bradford explains it all for you.


But, hey, who am I to judge?  It’s a lifetime of knowledge in six minutes of video!  Go write that hit show, kids!

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Snow: The Musical

It’s no secret how much I love the snow up here in the frozen north.  (Like, not at all.)  But here’s a blissful alternative.

Rich Vreeland over at Colorcave has created “January,” an experiment in algorithmic music generation that is also a sweet little game.  The object of the game is very simple: you try to catch snowflakes on your tongue.  There’s no counter, no time limit, no penalty for missing them.  The reward for catching them, though, is delightful.  It’s sweet, relaxing, and it doesn’t turn gross five minutes after it starts.

 

Only the beginning.

I read about it first over at IFC.com where they post cool things.  Go play in the snow, y’all.

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