From the Green Room: Acting Rules

Newsweek writer Ramin Setoodeh opened up a can of fabulously appointed worms suggesting that heterosexual actors could play gay, but homosexual actors are never convincing playing straight. Mr. Setoodeh is obviously wrong.  Rock Hudson was able to maintain his rugged, painfully handsome image so effectively even Doris Day had no idea that he probably would have preferred to be romancing Morris Day. 

But there are many other situations where actors are not successful in carrying off their characterizations. Witness Al Pacino in “Scarface,” for example. Al, a straight man (as in “heterosexual,” and not “Bud Abbott”), was quite convincing as the gay bank robber Sonny in “Dog Day Afternoon”; however, as Tony Montana, he sported a Cuban accent that made Jose Jimenez and The Frito Bandido look like Latin Linguists by comparison.  Such lines of dialogue as “Manolo, choot that piece o’ chit,” and “Say hello to my leetle fren’,” didn’t do much to maintain the dramatic tension, his reputation as one of America’s greatest living thespians, or a less than affectionate relationship with the Central American Defamation League.  Leave the dialects to Meryl Streep, okay, pal?   

John Travolta, Stockard Channing and Olivia Newton-John were all in their mid thirties when they played High School teenagers in ‘Grease’, and yet it was one of the biggest box office successes of all time.  And though he was the benefit of some brilliant makeup to help create the illusion, Tim Roth, a British non-ape, was able to play a chimp in the remake of “Planet of the Apes.”  He could have gone into any monkey house in any zoo in any state of the Union, and he could have easily passed.

However, Jennifer Lopez, in “Gigli,” plays a lesbian woman. That she was not convincing in this role has little to do with the Setoodeh Gay/Straight Acting Paradigm than it does with the fact that she’s the single worst actress in the history of civilization.  Even playing a hot, big bootied, wise cracking, borricua lass, she’s somehow not all that believable. With J-Lo, I have found that the more attractive she is on film, the worse the acting job she provides. 

In “Gigli,” Ms. Lopez is absolutely freakin’ gorgeous.

From the Green Room: Endorsements

Celebrity endorsements have been around for as long as time itself. When archeologists first discovered King Tut’s opulent remains also found in the sarcophagus a hieroglyphic filled scroll, that, when translated, turned out to be a cave painting of the boy king in what is thought to be a crude advertisement for “Ra Scarabs: They’re Beetleriffic!”

It’s one thing when the famous lend their images and likenesses to sell product; you can respect that Joe Dimaggio made Marilyn Monroe type money selling Joe for Mr. Coffee, and that Sally Field cashed in on her osteoporosis by shilling Boniva to keep herself in Yoga mats forever. But when one celebrity goes to bat in defense of another, there’s a sweet, special symmetry that you just don’t see all that often. But Woody Allen coming out at Cannes in support of Roman Polanski, seems, well, just a tad misguided.

One pedophile standing up for another pedophile. Gives you a real warm feeling, don’t it?

That’s on the list of bad ideas right up there with Jeffrey Dahmer doing a “Beef: It’s What For Dinner” commercial.  You can’t have the guy who took nude pictures of a 15-year-old stand up for the guy who had sex with a 15-year-old. It’s the ultimate definition of conflict of interest.

It’d be like Senator Larry Craig endorsing Rev. George Rekers; John Edwards standing behind Tiger Woods; and Captain Joe Hazelwood of the Exxon Valdez vouching for BP.  

So don’t be surprised if the next time you turn on your radio you hear a promo in a thin, weak, heavily accented voice saying, “This is Osama Bin Laden. When I’m between caves and can actually get reception, I’m listening to my brother-from-another-mother:  Imus in the Morning.”

It could happen.

From the Green Room: Win A Day With Bubba!

So Bill Clinton is raffling himself off.  No, that’s not another euphemism for “spanking the monkey;” he’s holding some kind of Bubba Lotto to raise money to help pay for his wife’s campaign debts.  “Win – A – Day – With – Bill.”  For five dollars, you could get the chance to hang out with the former president for the day.  I suppose second prize is a week with Hilary.   

It seems somewhat undignified to have a former president pimp himself out. And then you realize…it’s Bill Clinton.  He’s already been there, done that. When you’ve hidden out in the Oval Office, and used a 21-year old intern as a humidor, you’ve pretty much abdicated your right to claim a wholesome image.  

One wonders what will be included in this “Win – A – Day” contest?  How will you and Bubba spend your time together?  What does that itinerary look like?

9 AM:  Breakfast at the Chappaqua Café.  Hit on waitress.

10 AM:  Begin Limo ride to office in Harlem.

10:17 AM: Don’t hit on chick at tollbooth on Henry Hudson

10:23 AM: Have sex with chick in tollbooth on Henry Hudson

10:24 AM:  Finish having sex with chick in tollbooth on Henry Hudson.  Continue trip to office in Harlem.

10: 49 AM: Arrive at Parking Lot

10: 51 AM: Have sex with parking lot attendant.

10: 53 AM: Finish having sex with parking lot attendant.

11:01 AM:  Arrive at office.

11: 02 AM: Make prank phone call to Kenneth Starr.  “Do you have Prince Albert in the can?  Barney Frank does.”

11:05 AM:  Leave for lunch at Sylvia’s.

11:30 AM:  Arrive at Sylvia’s.  Order entire left side of menu.

11:35:01 AM: Hit on, then have sex with waitress.

11:35:09 AM: Finish having sex with waitress. Leave DNA sample on tablecloth.

2:17 PM:  Finish lunch at Sylvia’s.

2:23 PM: Return to office.

2:25 PM:  Make prank phone call to Newt Gingrich.  “Did you know Rush Limbaugh’s doing your Mama?”

2:31 PM:  Leave office for Happy Hour at Blarney Stone.

2: 37 PM: Arrive at Blarney Stone.  Chug four beers and six shots of Bushmill’s.  

2:38 PM:  Hit on Bartender.

2:42 PM: Attempt to have sex with bartender.

2:45 PM: Realize bartender is actually a man.

2:50 PM: Have sex with bartender anyway.

2:51 PM: Head for home.  

3:27 PM: Arrive home. Realize Hillary is there.

3:28 PM: Head back to Sylvia’s.

From the Green Room: Hollywood Speak

This morning, the I-Man related a story about Mike Lupica’s first Hollywood experience.  America’s favorite author went out to Tinsel Town to pitch one of his novels to be made into a movie by an interested producer.  They met for a power lunch, Lupie gave his spiel, the producer stood up, slapped his hand on the table, and said:  “It’s GREAT! Let’s do it!”    

He never heard from the man again.

Unbeknownst to Mike, there is an entirely different lexicon and vernacular out on the Left Coast, called “Hollywood Speak.”  Here’s a short Rosetta Stone-style taste, so the next time you’re out in La La Land, you can hold your own with all the fast-talking phonies.  

It’s the greatest screenplay I’ve ever read.
I didn’t read your screenplay. 

I’m developing a very similar idea.
I’m stealing your idea.

This has great box-office potential.
I didn’t read your screenplay.

I’m not sure this is a good fit at this time.
I can’t figure out a way to take credit for this.

We’re prepared to give you a substantial cut of the gross points on the back end.
You will never get paid.

Who do you see playing the lead?
How do we get Tom Hanks interested in this project?

This will get great word of mouth.
You’ll never work in this town again.

We did over $100 Million on the opening weekend.
This movie will never turn a profit.

You have my word.
You’re going to get screwed.



From the Green Room: Bulging Disks

Just when you thought the media’s obsession with Tiger Woods’ had waned…along comes a statement from the man himself, in which he says he decided to “pull out” of The Players Championship in Florida.  The reason? He has a “bulging disk” in his back.  In reporting this breaking news, the female anchor of the Golf Channel, Win McMurry, in a classic Freudian slip, said a word which is extremely similar to “disk,” but has, in fact, an entirely different meaning.  A few meanings, actually. Among them, an epithet for “penis,” not to mention a pejorative for an extremely unpleasant person, as in, “Tiger Woods has a bulging d*#k…Jesus, what a d*#k!”  I suppose the word “bulging” was what threw her off.  Because the bulge in his pants, and not his back, is what got him into trouble in the first place. 

actual ball washerThe double entendres have been flying ever since it was revealed that not all of Woods’s woods were in his golf bag.  Seemingly innocent golf terms, like “putter,” “stroke,” “ball washer,” and “hole in one” have been used, ad nauseum, in association with the many skanky broads upon whose nether greens Tiger was “teeing off.”  Even the horn dogs at the New York Post couldn’t help themselves. Their front page headline photo was of Tiger holding a microphone in his lap with a caption that read:  “Hey Tiger, is That a Mike, or Are You Just Happy to See Us?” 

Everybody loves a good d*#k joke.  I’ve actually made a career out of them.  Whether we like it or not, when the headlines center around matters of the crotch, men immediately become 11-year-olds again.  Even at my advanced age, I can’t control the paroxysms of unrestrained giggles every time I hear someone refer to a cockfight.

I guess Tiger is lucky in that, unlike Lawrence Taylor, his sexual escapades aren’t going to end with an incarceration and a cellmate named “Tiny,” who will be more than willing to put his bulging disk in his back.