Xanadu Review

Terrible films come out all the time--just look at anything with Sandra Bullock or Katherine Heigl in it, and you can find groan-inducing tedia that makes you feel sorry for anyone who got stuck seeing it in the theater and never getting their $8 back. But then some movies cross the line of awfulness, and unintentionally create what we call "so bad it's good". For this, see anything made by Russ Meyer, Roger Corman or Al Adamson--or come into the modern era with Road House or Flash Gordon (okay, maybe not so modern era). And one of my personal favorites, Barbarian Queen starring none other than Lana Clarkson, who would later be the murder victim of creative genius but certified psychopath Phil Spector. These films are cheaply made, but done in all earnestness by the tortured souls who wrote, directed or acted in them. These films cross the line to glorious awfulness.

But rarely are any of these films so awful that they cause actual destruction. (Sure, "Heaven's Gate" bankrupted United Artists and killed both the career of Kris Kristofferson who until that time had been riding high, and director Michael Cimino, who'd come off the Oscar sweeping Deer Hunter--but that film was actually good if overlong) During the dark days of the late Carter Administration--I'm talking 1980 to be exact--this country was suffering malaise, energy shortages, gas lines, polyester, terrible disco music, and shag carpeting. And a film called Xanadu.

Now, Xanadu has the distinction of killing everything it touched. It destroyed the careers of Olivia Newton John and Michael Beck, it killed Gene Kelly, it marked the end of the great '70s band The Electric Light Orchestra, it killed disco and it killed the roller derby craze. It was said that the '60s ended on that day in 1970 when the students were shot at Kent State. But the '70s surely ended with the release of Xanadu.

The plot--if you could call it that--was that Olivia Newton John (ONJ) is a "muse", a magical being from hated Greek Mythology who falls in love with a feather-haired artist (played by Beck) who has a job painting album covers onto murals for marketing purposes. (This is because in the Hollywood that is imagined in this film, no one thought to simply enlarge the album cover photos to wall poster size. If you find this lack of logic unbearable you might want to never go near this film. In fact, if you see a DVD copy of Xanadu you might want to kill it with fire). I should also point out that Beck's character--Sonny Malone--is considered quite the hunk, despite the feathered hair and vests he wears. Girls flirt with him on the street, and let him "borrow" their motorcycles when he needs a quick jaunt across the park and off of a fishing pier. But he only has eyes for ONJ! He has spotted her in the park and becomes obsessed with tracking her down. While this is technically stalking, it doesn't count as stalking if you have hunky feathered hair and a vest. Stalkers, take note!

Now, in his search he also runs into Gene Kelly, who is a clarinet playing old man who is apparently quite rich from his days in big bands but chooses to sit at the beach with his instrument. (I"m referring to the clarinet! Get your mind out of the gutter). Kelly prattles on about what a "good eye" Malone has, even though he has seen no evidence to demonstrate that Malone is anything other than a weirdo who steals motorcycles and drops them into the ocean while trying to stalk a blonde Australian on roller skates. (Now is the time to mention that way too much of this movie involves people rollerskating all over the place) If anything, Malone seems a bit irresponsible! But no matter--the two become fast friends. Malone has in the meantime followed ONJ to a dilipidated building that looks like it had better days back when Coolidge was president, and sees her roller skating around in a dark room that's cluttered with storage boxes. This would be creepy to anyone with sense, but not Sonny Malone! His feathered hair will protect him. His lack of foresight pays off though, as ONJ disappears without stealing his soul.

Malone and Gene Kelly are now BFFs, for some reason (maybe because Malone shared some popcorn with him earlier?). Kelly, believing that things like references, credentials or basic motor skills are just superfluous frills when picking a business partner, decides to open up a club on the run down site where Malone spotted ONJ skating around in the dark. They have a bit of a disagreement as to whether the club should play "rock and roll" or stick to a big band format, and I have to agree with Feathered Hair on this one--if you open a big band club in 1980 the only people showing up will be geriatrics who undertip and smell all mediciney. Not to mention causing a commotion because the club isn't racially segregated like in the old days! The weird part was during their argument, we get a visualization of what "rock and roll" and "big band" would be like, as the two imagined bands duke it out and dancers go flying everywhere. It's not really clear what they agreed on, but since later in the movie it's basically ONJ singing disco-fied music in campy and skimpy outfits, it seems that there was a loser in the argument, and that loser was "good taste".

Of course, the movie had other things going for it--an overlong shopping montage with mannequins come to life, and a cartoon sequence where ONJ and Malone turn into fish and birds, and Malone having an argument with Zeus about how he was in love with ONJ the muse. (If only they could have gotten the voice of John Travolta as Zeus, the film might have been saved!) Zeus does agree to let his muse have "one night" with Sonny Malone, and though I can think of many things I would have done with Olivia Newton John back in her prime, as it turns out her one night is spent singing and dancing at the opening of the club (which is called Xanadu, hence the title!). While the song and dance finale is an affront to humanity, it also seems that there were no real bona fide customers at the club (everyone present seemed to be part of her song and dance troupe). Is this a deeper lesson? That sometimes poorly thought out business ideas between irresponsible painters and geriatric clarinet players can actually fail?

Ache. Oh, the Ache.

After a night of daiquiris, beer and a delicious concoction called "bourbon slush" there was of course the inevitable hangover--the sort that has you waking saying "this isn't good" and "I can't imagine how it'll feel when I try and raise my head up". So I stagger slowly into the kitchen, with enough presence of mind to make sure I'm wearing a shirt and shorts since the guests passed out in the living room might be stirring and unwilling to see that much Brando at this hour.

Of course, the kitchen looks like Dresden after the firebombing, or a typical hotel after Guns n' Roses showed up--dishes, glasses and slop piled everywhere. Unbowed, I begin the bacon frying and egg-scramblin', and the making of milkshakes. For some reason I refuse Aspirin, figuring my kidneys are busy enough fighting off the bourbon.

The gang stirs, and informs me of things said and done of which I have no recollection--yes there was Karaoke, but I recall my silken voice crooning out tunes to much cheers and awe rather than the stumbling performance they're describing now. After some food and rest, and a hearty walk around town in the 70-degree weather, I return for more sleep and a viewing of perhaps the best-worst film I've seen since Barbarian Queen--Xanadu. Yes, the film that destroyed more careers and trends than any other. I shall review it in due time.

Baseball Wrapup

The other night the New York Yankees won the World Series, giving that team a grand total of 27 world championships. While my New York friends are elated, the majority of my friends back in Maine--Red Sock fans, every one--are bummed because the only thing they like better than seeing their own team win is seeing the Yankees lose. (Never mind that as New England "yankees" they are rooting against the team of that name. This rivalry goes back a long time)

Though a sports fan, I never really got into the raw emotions behind rooting for a team. I'd pick a team I liked--usually based on liking some players or coaches--and clap when they won, and if they lost, no big deal. I was never one of those people who could let it affect my mood in any real way. Some friends of mine suggested this was because I wasn't really a fan, or didn't "get" football/baseball (I don't count basketball since it's an annoying game to watch with the constant fouling and faking falling down and shoes squeaking. Hockey I like but find it hard to watch on TV. Soccer's fun but I don't get foreign sports channels). This is hogwash, of course--I find football and baseball quite enjoyable, both to play and to watch. But I'll agree that I don't have the emotional investment in a given team--part of this is due to the constant trading of players and coaches, and part of this is a detachment from those teams.

But I do understand those who get really into it--often it has more to do with a feeling of community with other fans--whether they're locals (Pirates fans, say, tend to have their Pittsburgh connections binding them) or there's a more personality-related reason (many non-New Englander Red Sock fans simply like the underdog, and that team had a notorious 86 year drought from World Series wins and some crushing near-wins). One friend of mine picked the teams he roots for based on his dad's favorite teams, and finds a connection with his father through this fandom. None of this really happened to me, as I wasn't raised in a sports-loving household, and upon leaving New York moved to DC where the teams suck so regularly that it's hard to develop an affinity to the players or rotten owners like Dan Snyder who totally sucks.

Happy Birthday Disaffected Scanner Jockey

Today is the birthday of the Disaffected Scanner Jockey, whose blog has been rolling for years and has inspired us all towards heroic acts. Well, not so much heroic as EPIC BEYOND ALL PROPORTION. By way of an example:

1) Before reading that blog, I used to think that the Internet was a giant net that spanned across international waters to catch speedboats.

2) Before reading that blog, I used to sit around staring at my browser's home page, not realizing that you can get other pages to come up by clicking on bits of text or icons that lit up when your mouse went over them. It greatly enhanced my electronic experiences.

3) Before reading that blog, I used to get actual work done while at work.

Here's hoping for a happy birthday for the DSJ, and some glorious weekend celebrations!

It is also my friend Allie's birthday, and she coincidentally just got engaged to my friend Jake--congratulations to you both!

Political Recap

The voting results are in from this year's off-year election--for VA Governor, NJ Governor, NYC Mayor and a special election in NY's 23rd Congressional District. The Republicans won in VA and NJ, looks like the Democrat won in NY-23, and Mayor Bloomberg seems to be ahead in NYC. While both parties' various hacks will try and spin the results in their own idiotic way, you come here for some reasonable analysis that you can only get at Not Enough Tequila in the World.

1) VA Governor--Republican Bob McDonnell pulled a big-margin victory here, in the Old Dominion, a state that generally trends Republican but did elect Democrats for Governor in the last two cycles, and went for Barack Obama in the 2008 election--the first time it went to the Democrats for the presidency since LBJ. McDonnell had run as a moderate, stressing his Northern VA roots and transportation plans and bipartisanship. His opponent, Creigh Deeds, made some big errors--namely, his ad campaign almost solely focused on painting McDonnell as socially extremist, which at a time when voters are more concerned about quality of life and pocketbook issues, doesn't resonate much (and besides, voters who would be turned off by such concerns? They'd be pulling all levers for the "D"s anyway.). Moderates broke heavily for McDonnell here.

2) NJ Governor--Republican Chris Christie beat incumbent governor Jon Corzine by about five points, in a state that has been solidly Democratic for quite a while--the last time a Republican won the governorship was 1994, and the GOP hadn't claimed it in a presidential election since 1988 when the first Bush was running. It didn't help that Corzine is a major douchebag. He put out ads making fun of Christie's weight (seriously, are we in third grade?), and I never liked the guy because after making his fortune at Goldman Sachs (the Freemasons of our era who control everything) he spent over 60 million bucks of his own personal fortune to run for NJ Senate (prior to running for Governor). Seriously, if a man thinks a job paying about $150K is worth blowing $60 million of his own money on, then he is either (a) a moron or (b) so corrupt and power hungry that he has no business being in power. Christie, a former prosecutor, had run as a moderate--beating a more conservative opponent in the GOP primary.

3) NYC Mayor--let's face it, Bloomberg is richer than God and is willing to--like Corzine--spend it to retain power. He is also genuinely independent of any party--a onetime Democrat, then Republican (since their nomination was easier to get), then who knows, Bloomberg has managed to hold on largely because of the force of his personality and the weakness of his opposition. The interesting thing here is that in this very liberal city that the Democrats used to have iron control over, that party has not been able to elect a mayor since 1989.

4) NY-23rd--this district has been in Republican hands since that party was called the Whigs, but last night Democrat Bill Owens won. Apparently, the original GOP nominee was considered too moderate for the likes of conservative activists around the country, including notorious idiot Sarah Palin who is really too dangerously stupid to allow anywhere near anyone who might catch her stupidity secondhand. The Palinites poured tons of out of state money and media attention on an out-of-district man named Doug Hoffman, who might be a smart man but it makes you wonder when he kisses up to Glenn Beck without realizing that Beck is actually a satire and not a real pundit. Hoffman, who had lost the GOP primary but ran on the Conservative line, was as of last week leading the GOP nominee, who dropped out over the weekend and endorsed the Democrat (which puzzled me--if she wanted Owens to win, wouldn't she stay in the race to split the GOP vote?). So it came down to Conservative Hoffman, or Democrat Owens--and Owens has won.

What to make of all of this? If there's a consistent theme, it's that the party in power in the two big states--VA and NJ--is being punished at the polls due to a bad economy and sense of despair over the direction the country is headed. The voters aren't necessarily embracing hard-right conservatism, or explicitly rejecting the left and Obama--after all, Christie and McDonnell made very little mention of Obama and ran as moderates. The NY-23 election may have had more to do with Hoffman's lack of connection to a district that is very provincial, and while the voters there are largely conservative they may have been turned off by the "teabagger" activism of Palin and Beck. (Upstate NYers do trend conservative, but they're a more subdued kind). As for NYC, let's face it--Bloomberg's money talks, and the Democratic machine in that city has been rotting for quite some time.

So what does this trend mean? Not much!

Support the 25 Hour Day

After the initial fun of end of Daylight Savings Time--basically, that extra hour of sleep--it occurs to me that I could use that extra hour of sleep every day. Why are we stuck in this 24 hour cage? Unleash us with a 25 hour day! Workaholics can put in an extra hour at work, the rest of us can get extra sleep or free time.

Now, some people will complain that adding an extra hour to each day will gradually shift it until the sun sets at noon and the sun rises when we're trying to go to sleep. I'm way ahead of you on that. We shift our work schedules by an hour each day--get in an hour later, and work an hour later, each day. It's basic math, people!

Of course, as Americans we should take the lead on this--it'll confound the Chinese as they scratch their heads and try to figure out why we're so much better rested, happier, and more productive than them. They'll soon discover--through their elaborate network of spies and CNN--that we have a 25 hour day, and of course they'll have to "keep up with the Joneses" and add an extra hour to their own day. But by that point, we'll have implemented my other idea--the 8 day week! Like the extra hour, the extra day can be used any way we want--more leisure, more work, or just sitting around reflecting on how clever we were. By the time the Chinese catch up to us and add "Saturednesday" to their week, we'll be so far ahead of them at everything they won't know what to do.

Some people might suggest we go ahead and add two extra hours to the day, but that'd just be pushing it.

Weekend Wrapup

The weekend was a whirlwind of activity, none of it having anything to do with Halloween. Friday I worked from home, since I was getting over a cold and had been told UNDER NO UNCERTAIN CIRCUMSTANCES BRING YOUR SWINE FLU TO WORK AND INFECT EVERYONE, TYPHOID MARY! Now, it clearly wasn't swine flu--I passed the fever quickly and using bedrest, chicken soup and tea drove it out by Friday evening--but having a day to work at my couch with the computer was somewhat relaxing. And I would need the rest, because the gang had a MOVING PARTY the next day.

Now, a moving party is like any other party, except you have a certain amount of stuff to transport in a short period. Though, I noticed that despite bringing a case of beer for the movers, no one really drank--I certainly didn't because of my getting out of the cold stage, but I figured the others would have cracked a few. This may of course be due to our being done with the move before noon. One guest did manage to find and open a bottle of Proseco, though, and then decided to try on the hostess' wedding dress, giving us a chance to snap some pictures of her drinking with the dress on so she could forward the photos to her mother. When her mother called to ask what was going on, I had to pretend to be the new husband--an immigrant carpenter named "Beppo" who mispronounced the new bride's first and last names and asked if I could call her mother "mom" as well--and my new "in-laws" were remarkably unflapped by this. Though I think now I have to visit them for Passover!

That evening was low key, with some sushi, beer and sweet tea vodka which did some damage to the drinkers of our crew, but not so much that we weren't able to make a furniture run the next day. By Sunday night, we were running on fumes, but were invited to a nice dinner at Clydes with the aid of the wedding dress girl's gift certificates. (Said gift certificates were awarded last weekend, apparently, during a near soy-allergy poisoning!)

Now, I could use a weekend of rest.