Like Neon

In an effort to actually put more, you know, content on here, I’m starting what I hope to be a daily “Song of the Day” feature. My musical tastes are decidedly eclectic, and span from Forties crooners and swing to modern pop and rock. Oh, you’re excited, I can tell.

The auspicious inaugural SotD post goes to the very inauspicious “Word Up” by Cameo.

Seriously, though. Cheesy as it is, it makes you want to shake the junk in your trunk, don’t lie. Now, some of you know why I love this song (Beyond the obvious—Who doesn’t love dubious Eighties R&B?), but the rest of you I will have to educate. [read more]

I’m a little behind on this, but Flaunt has an article about Anton Yelchin in their new issue (I think it’s the December issue, but it’s difficult to tell, as Flaunt’s website isn’t very helpful or easy to navigate). You can read the article here (Click on the photo to access the reader), but the real attraction is the accompanying photo shoot, wherein Anton looks elfish and enchanting with his artfully-messy curls and pensive expression. He reminds me of a wayward Hobbit or young Balthazar Getty circa Young Guns; an earthy, poetic boy met in a lonely village.

Le sigh, be still my heart & etc.

So, John Mayer’s got a new album coming out on November 17, called Battle Studies. I’m currently a little slow on the Mayer front, because, as some of you know, I broke up with him about six months to a year back due to his incessantly pretentious tweets. This probably sounds silly to a lot of you, but it broke my heart, it really truly did. It’s difficult for me to articulate how important John and his music have been to me, but suffice it to say, that whole “his music helped me through the worst period of my life” cliche is soundly true for me. Not only have I refused to renew my membership to his fan club, I went at least six months unable to listen to him—I was that upset over what I, as a long time and extremely dedicated fan, perceived as a shift in his personality due to stardom. [read more]

Tonight begins the fifth season of Supernatural, the CW’s surprisingly engaging series about two brothers, Sam and Dean, who traverse the landscape of America hunting the bad things we mere mortals are blissfully unaware of. Despite having a rocky start with the show, I’ve been solidly hooked on it since its second season, and I could give you at least a dozen reasons why. The rub, though, is that I could give you a dozen more clear and logical reasons why I should stop watching, which turns Supernatural into an exercise in inner conflict for myself and many fans like me.

Despite its potentially dubious premise, over the years Supernatural has managed to create a vast and engaging tapestry of enigmatic characters and intriguing plot lines the likes of which many more mundane programs can only dream of having. I genuinely believe that it is one of the most underrated and entertaining programs on American television today. It’s a recipe that’s difficult for a modern woman like me to resist: Spooky mysteries woven through with solid, believable character development and a healthy splash of both intelligent comedy and silliness. Supernatural strikes a perfect balance between somber and fun, and that makes its glaring faults all the more disappointing. [read more]

I am a great lover of a well-made action movie. As a genre, I tend to set action films apart from the rest, because I strongly believe that the elements I use to judge them aren’t the same as those I use to test your average drama, comedy or even horror flick. Action films are all about the poetry of motion, and the particular, rare talent of moving a viewer without dialogue. The truly great action films propel that motion with a clever script, but the plot is rarely what the viewer remembers.

Growing up a kid in the Eighties, I loved Saturday morning cartoons. It was practically a weekly event in my household, and two of my absolute favorites were Transformers and G.I. Joe. The first Transformers movie ended up being the sort of nigh-perfect combination of action and nerdery I dream about, so you can imagine how excited I was for the recent release of G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra. The trailers had been vaguely dubious, but I was willing to chalk that up to iffy editing. Christopher Eccleston as a villain? Sign me up, please!

Being familiar with the oft-campy source material, I knew the thing wasn’t going to be Oscar-worthy, and walking into the theatre, I felt my expectations were more than reasonable. I wanted to be entertained, nothing more. I didn’t buy my ticket expecting high-brow, but rather simply to have fun. What I got was a movie whose potential was squandered on a director who seemed to not know quite what to do with it. [read more]