Texas gets a bum wrap of late, and to be honest, it deserves it. I can say that because I lived there for over twenty years. I might not be a born Texan, but I’m Texan enough.
Anyway, sometimes a certain song or sound hits me, and it reminds me of that state. Usually, it’s a song from Willie or Stevie, but sometimes it can be ZZ Top.
I think it’s because it’s really hot in New York, and if it’s hot in July, that reminds me of Texas.
(It’s just a jump to the left…)
Our Summer Road Trippin’ is about to start. The thrill of leaving the City is building in me, as I use my Magical Thinking to forget about how awful traffic is on I-95. (Anywhere on I-95, it’s bad.) And with the road trips comes a friendly competition between the wife and me – Who Can Come Up with The Better Playlist? First of all, there never is a winner – it’s more like an exhibition, a “friendly” so the speak, than a competition. The rule of the contest is that the list needs to be 3+ hours long (we are driving after all) and needs to loosely tie into the theme of Summer/Travel/Vacation or getting away. We do repeat songs from year to year, and occasionally we do have the same song on our lists. (Harry Styles and Paul Simon are the frequent repeated artists.) This year, we have added a rule, which is we need to accommodate some of the songs our daughter likes. She’s beginning to form her own strong opinions on music, and we want her to feel that she has a say in all of this. My lists can be rock and grunge heavy, but this year I want to work in more 70’s funk. Oh, and the Tom Tom Club will have a prominent spot this year.
Today is Ringo Stars birthday, if you didn’t know.
I got a rejection notice at 2:22am last night. A bit of an odd hour, but I guess lit journals don’t keep banker’s hours. The magazine had my submission for four months, which is a normal amount of time to hold one of my stories before saying no. I saw that rejection right before I went to bed, and it did put me in an off mood. Not bad, or angry, just off. Off in the sense that I don’t know what’s right anymore. The rejection didn’t stop me from falling asleep, or from getting up and getting back at it today. Yet, I wondered; who was the person who was up at 2:22am this morning? Did the rejection email have to go out at 2:22am? It couldn’t wait until the start of the work day? If this person was up at 2:22am, then that makes me think we have some things in common; we both like staying up late, and working into the wee hours. I salute you, this person who is most likely a volunteer reader or intern for the magazine. I hope you got some sleep, as I will be submitting to you again soon.
(SPOLIERS but really, does it matter…)
First of all, I’m not here to pick apart this show. IF somehow you missed it, THE IDOL is a show on HBO with a five-episode run. The show is about the music industry in Los Angles, and stars The Weeknd (Abel Tesfaye) and Lilly-Rose Depp. If you do a search, you’ll find out that it’s not good. But, depending on how you view “bad” tv, you could either find it maddingly self-indulgent with a side of pointlessness, or an entertainingly hot mess of a dumpster fire. (I’m in the dumpster fire category.) I’m not here to bemoan the quality of the show as a whole, as there are many, and I mean MANY, other and much better TV critics who have taken this show to task.
What I am here to single out and applauded is quite possibly the greatest demonstration of Third Act Narrative Exposition I have ever seen in all of my life. I will be SPOILING episode 5 of THE IDOL. You have been warned!
To give you the set up – Jocelyn (Lilly-Rose Depp) has kicked Tedros (Abel Tesfaye) out of her home and life, all the while stealing his cast of singers. She then asks her manager Chaim (Hank Azaria) to “pay off” Tedros and “get rid of him.” Then the scene jumps ahead six weeks, and we are at So-Fi Stadium in Los Angeles during sound check for Jocelyn’s world tour which is about to kick off with Tedros cast of singers as the opening act. High up in the empty stands, Chaim is talking to Andrew (Eli Roth) a Live Nation executive, and Nikki (Jane Adams) a record label executive. It is the dialogue between these characters, and the effort put forth by these actors that (Chef’s Kiss) needs to be taught in screenwriting, and acting classes.
First, the dialogue; it is a train wreck. See, as the narrative has jumped ahead six weeks, a lot has happened that the audience doesn’t know about. Well, don’t worry, Chaim, Andrew, and Nikki will tell us all about it. These three characters stand there and have a “Hey, remember what happened…” conversation, which is so clunky, unnatural sounding, and utilitarian, for it only has one function; to tell us what happened to Jocelyn and especially Tedros. The dialogue feels desperate to get the information to us, like the scene was born out of frustration because no one could come up with a better way to impart the narrative developments. Now, I say this should be taught because, as this show is a visual medium, it’s better to show rather than tell. What we are given are empty words that have no dramatic weight behind them, and the scene gotten through rather than enjoyed.
But more importantly, the effort put forth by Azaria, Roth and Adams to make this amateurish dialogue seem natural and relevant is nothing short of Herculean. I can only imagine that when these actors were handed the script for this scene, that they had to have known. All three of these actors have impressive credits in productions with great directors and writers; they know what good writing is. But they did it – just went for it. “Damn the torpedoes! I’m committing to the line!” Honestly, I’m not surprised. These are three professional actors. They are getting paid to do a job, and they did their job. And that’s why every acting teacher in America needs to pull out this scene, make their students watch it, and then say to the students, “That is how you commit to a scene!”
Yeah… THE IDOL is not good – I don’t think I’m breaking any ground here in saying that. But even in bad art, lessons can be learned, and entertainment can be gained. The scene starts at the 50:00 mark. You know, so you can queue it up for your enjoyment, or your class.
(Raise expectations to a new intention)
Honestly; I’m pretty glad that we didn’t throw away all of our Covid masks. The smoke in New York on Wednesday was insane. Everything was shrouded in an orange haze, blocking out the sun. It was like sitting in front of a camp fire with the smoke blowing in your face. It didn’t feel good, and hurt my eyes and the back of my throat. I am glad that we pulled the A/C’s from storage last month, as that made the apartment livable with the windows closed. Walking the dog wasn’t fun, as I was back to having a mask on, stumbling around the neighborhood. It makes me think the end of the world won’t be sudden, but more like a slow car pile-up of minor inconveniences.
I swear, I am so late to the party on everything. I just discovered the Tom Tom Club the other day.
And The Simpsons have started getting better. A good friend sent me an article in Vulture about just that. After reading it, I started re-watching the last two seasons, and I have to agree.
The kid only has eleven school days left before Summer vacation officially starts. But, we’re on Summer vacation. The kid has checked out; I’ve checked out; the wife wants to check out; the dog wants to get a puppy short cut so she can check out, too. Funny, but for the last two years, I have started to look forward to the coming of Summer. Before, growing up in Texas, Summer was a never ending season of just feeling uncomfortable. Mind you, Summer’s in New York can be very humid, sticky and awful, but it’s done after three months. (In Texas, it can go on for six months!) And I am sure it has everything to do with the kid, but Summer now means road trips, and hikes, and water parks, and experiences. I’m ready for it.
