April 2010 – Page 2 – Pop Culture Nerd

Review & Giveaway: Scott Turow’s INNOCENT

No, I didn’t accidentally omit the Presumed in that title. Scott Turow follows up his 23-year-old blockbuster debut with a sequel, out May 4, titled simply Innocent. But that’s the only thing simple about it.

Rusty Sabich has aged in real time and is now the 60-year-old chief judge of an appellate court in Kindle County. He’s up for state Supreme Court when he wakes up one day to find his wife dead next to him. He waits almost 24 hours to call in authorities, claiming shock. But Tommy Molto, the lawyer who accused Sabich of killing his mistress in the previous book, doesn’t buy it, and once again, Sabich finds himself on trial for murder with Molto as his prosecutor.

Having read Presumed, I anticipated a final twist and tried to crack Turow’s formula to figure it out early on. I couldn’t. All my theories were debunked and 25 pages from the end, I still hadn’t guessed the whole truth. When Turow finally reveals everything, it’s horrible but makes perfect sense, not something tacked on just for cheap shock value.

Though Innocent is expertly plotted, the characters are hard to like. I often referred to Sabich as Sumbich in my head because he, along with a couple other characters, behaves selfishly and stupidly at times. They use emotional pain as an excuse, or say mistakes are necessary en route to self-realization. That’s an understandable justification if they only recognize their wrongdoing in hindsight. Knowing something is deplorable and doing it anyway is another thing altogether.

But, hey, these people make you glad you’re not nearly as screwed up as they are. The legal and mystery aspects are engrossing, and I could clearly envision the sure-to-be-made movie. Harrison Ford and Bonnie Bedelia could return as the Sabiches; Jesse Bradford, who portrayed 8-year-old Nat in the 1997 movie of Presumed Innocent, has grown up to become a fine adult actor and could easily reprise his role, too. But someone else would have to play Sandy Stern, the lawyer who reps Sabich in both trials, since he was played by the late Raul Julia. His would be big shoes to fill.

So, want to be able to say to your friends, “Of COURSE I know there’s a sequel to Presumed Innocent coming out next month, I’m already reading it”? Thanks to Miriam at Hachette Book Group, I’m giving away FIVE copies of Innocent, with one grand-prize winner getting a copy of Presumed Innocent, too. (You don’t need to read the first novel before the sequel because Turow skillfully avoids spoiling the former’s surprise ending, but it would give you a deeper understanding of some characters’ motivations.)

To enter:

leave a comment about something you were falsely accused of
be a subscriber or Twitter follower (tell me which). Current subscribers/followers get two entries; people who tweet about this giveaway get three
you must live in U.S. or Canada, no P.O. Boxes

Giveaway ends Saturday, April 24, at midnight PST. Five names will be randomly drawn; the first name chosen will get both Presumed Innocent and Innocent. I won’t be contacting each person individually; winners will only be announced here and on Twitter so make sure you check back. Winners will have 48 hours to reply with a mailing address before alternate name(s) are selected.

Now, let’s hear some guiltless secrets!

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Movie Review: DATE NIGHT

Date Night is a flawed movie with plot holes bigger than Central Park but boy, is it funny. Steve Carell and Tina Fey are sharp comic actors who manage to elevate a script that might have turned into an unwatchable movie if it had starred, say, Matthew McConaughey and Katherine Heigl.

Carell and Fey play Phil and Claire Foster, “a boring couple from New Jersey” who starts re-evaluating their lives after learning their friends Brad and Haley (Mark Ruffalo and Kristin Wiig) are separating. To spice things up, they decide to have date night in NYC at the latest hot spot in town, a pretentious restaurant called Claw with prices that make Phil say, “I’ll just suck on a napkin.” Not having a reservation, they take the one belonging to “the Tripplehorns” when that couple doesn’t show. This seemingly harmless stunt results in an outrageous, all-night adventure that involves mob bosses, strippers, corrupt cops and politicians. Yes, it strains credulity but fuggedaboutit, you’re there for the laughs, not the logic.

What also seems unbelievable is that Carell and Fey never worked together before this or knew each other well. Theirs is such a lived-in, real-world chemistry that I had to keep reminding myself they’re not really married to each other. Their comic rhythms are perfectly synced, making every scene as funny as possible without looking like they’re trying too hard.

The rest of the cast consists of many name actors, most of whom are criminally underused. Taraji P. Henson, who excels in emotionally complex roles, is wasted as a tough cop. Ruffalo and Wiig don’t have enough screen time to make an impression, while the only thing notable about Ray Liotta’s appearance is how much eyeliner he wears. And Gossip Girl‘s Leighton Meester as the Fosters’ babysitter? The gig should have been given to a middle-tier actor who could use the paycheck instead of someone already on a hit series who doesn’t need a thankless part.

More successful in supporting roles are Mark Wahlberg, hilarious as a shirt-shunning security expert who helps Claire and Phil, and James Franco and Mila Kunis as the real Tripplehorns, though that’s not their real names, either. Franco may be an academic in real life looking to pursue a PhD at Yale, but he cracks me up when he plays clueless and stupid. Sometimes it takes a lot of smarts to portray morons (see Carell as Michael Scott on The Office). And Kunis has consistently proven she is as funny as she is gorgeous.

Director Shawn Levy, he of the Night of the Museum movies I have no desire to see, throws in car chases, helicopters and shoot-outs for those in the audience who might be resistant to something called Date Night (does it say in Levy’s contract he’ll only direct movies involving nocturnal activities?). But the main attractions remain Carell and Fey. I had no expectations except to laugh and laugh I did (stay for outtakes over the end credits). I also expect—hope—that Carell and Fey will have many more cinematic dates together.

Nerd verdict: Fun first Date with Carell and Fey

Photos: Twentieth Century Fox

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Who IS That Actor? Part 2

Several times while I was watching TV this past week, I came across actors who made me say, “Hey, it’s that guy!” or “Who IS that actress?!” You know, familiar faces you instantly recognize from countless shows and movies but whose names escape you. And then you obsess and can’t focus on what you’re watching because it’s making you crazy (thankfully, I identified them eventually).

Since it’s no fun being crazy alone, I thought I’d do another edition of “Who IS that actor?” See how many names you can come up with for the following actors; I’ll accept the name of a character they’ve played if you can’t remember their real ones. (Unlike the actors I saw this week, I know who these are.) I’m not going to tell you their credits because then you’d be able to look up those titles on IMDb and go down the cast lists. If you’re really stuck, you can hover your mouse over their pictures and see their initials.

Let’s see who’s the nerdiest person who always reads the credits!

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All You Need Is IDOL: Season 9 Top 9 Review

by Jason Matthews

Lennon/McCartney was hard to swallow two years ago when the group was super strong, and it doesn’t go down much more easily now, with a lesser cast of Idols. Watching Tim, Andrew, and Aaron fumble their way through the defining music of the 20^th century does not good television make.

But hey, at least we got to learn new things about our Idol wannabes. Wait, no we didn’t. Oh, is Crystal a mom? Does Tim smile a lot? Casey has hair! Katie is a teenager! Siobhan is “unique”! Wow. Shocking tidbits, those. I would have rather learned important things like: why Andrew got a neck tattoo, whether Siobhan ate paint chips as a child, if Aaron has ever seen an R-Rated movie, and if Lee and Andrew are the real-life Troy and Abed. But alas, those facts continue to go unrevealed.

Here are reviews of the performances, from best to worst.

Courtesy FOX

Lee Dewyze – “Hey Jude”

Has Lee always been doing that David Cook super-fast-vocal-raise-from-the-side-of-the-mouth thing? How did I JUST notice this? No wonder Lee is doing so well on the show. And the show does love him. Not only did they give him the coveted anchor spot, they gave him the most recognizable song, a bagpiper and a crowd-pleasing “sing it with me” moment (always good for a voting boost). That wasn’t an Idol performance, it was a darn rock show! And it easily wins the night.

Siobhan Magnus – “Across the Universe”

This is tough for me because my all-time favorite crazy person singer, Fiona Apple, did a ridiculously beautiful cover of this song (with an equally amazing music video where she sings on a platform that rotates her 360 degrees while people destroy a coffee shop around her. It’s awesome, seriously, YouTube it NOW!), and the difference between Fiona and Siobhan is basically invisible (’cause you can’t measure crazy), so I’m partial to my favorite Shadowboxer. BUT, Siobhan was captivating, beautiful, controlled and riveting. She took a HUGE chance not screaming her glory note, but that’s the beauty of her—she has no fear. She takes the risks. And it’s what going to vault her past Crystal in the end.

Katie Stevens – “Let It Be”

As pretty as she’s ever looked. As precocious and steely in her Ryan interview as she’s ever been. And she absolutely gets points for nailing the “Single Ladies” dance. This was a good night for Katie. She’s going to get major votes simply for the song choice, but she actually delivered a very worthy, star-like performance. We’re about two weeks from making her the Dark Horse favorite to win this whole thing.

Crystal Bowersox – “Come Together”

Here’s the problem with Crystal: She’s never going to transcend the stage she’s on, the way Adam Lambert, David Cook, and Fantasia did. She’s always going to deliver a rollicking, fun set. She’s solid, but there’s no second level. “Come Together” is a lay up for her. Of course she’s going to nail it! But where’s the daring? Where’s the ambition in it? I’d rather watch Siobhan go crazy with the screaming, risk failure and be a roll of the dice between brilliant and awful, then sit through a billion same safe songs from Crystal. Because safe is what we expect, but brilliant is what we hope for.

Michael Lynche – “Eleanor Rigby”

Big Mike is the Tyler Perry of American Idol, not nearly as fun or enjoyable as the trailers would lead you to believe, lots of bluster only to be revealed as scarily soulless. And worse yet, like Tyler, Mike has the platform to do something and actively chooses not to use it! He could be redefining R&B for the masses, showing that adding some rock and country to it is OK. But he instead chooses to pander for votes with his Peebo Bryson, “preach it” shenanigans. Maybe he is a good singer, but I can’t get past his utter fakeness.

Casey James – “Jealous Guy”

This show can be grossly manipulative sometimes (read: “all the time”). Watching Casey’s boring, slow, not at ALL authentic ballad, I knew the judges were going to trip over themselves to call it brilliant. To say he was brave to use an acoustic guitar! To commend his control and command! Because he has that face, and that hair and the show needs him bad, they were gonna give him a pass. It’s a fraud, and I’m not gonna stand for it. I’m not giving him a pass. He is less interesting by the week, relies too heavily on his guitar, and hides behind his look. It’s a joke. It’s a decoy. And it’s going to get better artists sent home early. I think I may hate Casey James.

Aaron “Yoda” Kelly – “The Long and Winding Road”

Charisma, stage presence? An American Idol needs not these things. Country, he makes the Beatles. Sleepy, he makes me. Solid performance? Maybe. Assured vocal? Yes. But I sense much bottom 3 in him.

Andrew Garcia – “Can’t Buy Me Love”

Being the Latin Buddy Holly, as Andrew attempted to pull off tonight, isn’t a bad idea. In fact, it’s the road he should have tread weeks ago, but someone should tell him this very important point: big hair does not equal big personality. It just makes you look doofy, and not in the “fun” way the incessant and obnoxious video package wants us to believe. And it doesn’t fix his bigger problem: he’s not any good! You can be completely devoid of personality and still run the Idol table, so long as you have the skill (see: Underwood, Carrie). But you have to have the skills. Andrew doesn’t.

Tim Urban – “All My Loving”

If Simon is gonna wave him through, content to let a Haircut Idol crap on the legacy of the show he built with his two furry hands, content to let DIDI go home over an idiot with a sparkly smile, then why should I bother reviewing him? You know what he did up there; he was a C- vocal with an A+ look. Whatever. He’ll be back next week.

What did you think of Beatles night? Can anyone make a Beatles song their own?

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Book Review: Michael Harvey’s THE THIRD RAIL

I’d just schlepped my way through a couple books that were dull and slow-moving so as I picked up Michael Harvey‘s The Third Rail, I thought, “If this doesn’t grab me in three pages, I’m done.” No worries there. The breakneck pace compelled me from the first, third, forty-seventh—all the way to the last page.

In this third novel featuring Chicago P.I. Michael Kelly, he’s on the hunt for a sniper targeting random commuters on an L train and along a busy highway. After the killer (or an accomplice) makes a personal call to Kelly and delivers cryptic clues to his home, the detective starts wondering if the events may be related to an L crash thirty years earlier, one that Kelly happened to be in when he was nine years old. In a plot that never stops hurtling forward and taking unexpected turns, Kelly uncovers nefarious plans involving bio-weapons, greed, corruption and the Catholic Church.

Though I sped through Rail and enjoyed the ride—it reads like a ’70s action flick starring Steve McQueen as Kelly—I realized afterward some things didn’t make sense. Revenge is directed at a blameless person because the blamed party isn’t available, and it’s unclear what a sniper attack on Lake Shore Drive has to do with the 30-year-old L accident that occurred at a different location. (There are other spoilery head-scratchers I can’t discuss.) I even asked my husband to read the book in case I missed something and he could answer some questions for me. He couldn’t.

I think the problem stems from Harvey incorporating aspects of two real, unrelated incidents—a 1977 L accident and a 1993 Pentagon report called “Terror 2000”—into one story and they don’t mesh seamlessly. Throw in the Catholic Church angle and there’s a lot of ground to cover; two separate novels might have been a better idea (Harvey said in this Amazon interview a follow-up is possible). I take no issue with the ending leaving some threads untied—it adds to the sinister feel—but am confused by the lack of clarity and logic of the answers that were provided.

Nerd verdict: Third Rail zips by, but derails a few times along the way

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Winners of Neil Pasricha’s THE BOOK OF AWESOME

Congrats to Julia F and Erin, who won ARCs of Neil Parischa’s The Book of Awesome! Their names were randomly drawn with the help of random.org. Julia and Erin, please send me your address via the “contact” form above and the awesome Lydia from Putnam will ship you each an ARC. If you don’t respond by 9 a.m. Thursday April 8, alternate name(s) will be selected.

Thanks to all who entered and shared your awesome moments with me. The book will be available April 15 if you’d like to buy a copy.

Stay tuned for another fantastic giveaway coming up soon!

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Five Phrases That Should Be Permanently Retired from Reviews

Happy Monday! Hope you survived all the chocolate eggs and ham, or Pad Thai if you celebrate Songkran.

Since it was Easter weekend, I didn’t do much work. Read plenty, slept and ate even more, but didn’t quite get around to finishing my reviews.

In thinking about them, though (I’m much more productive in my head), I came up with a Top 5 list of words/phrases that make my eyeballs roll when I see them in reviews. If you ever see these in mine, you have permission to send me hate mail.

“A roller-coaster ride.” Seriously, have you ever said this in your life after seeing a movie or finishing a book? Besides, I hate roller-coasters. They make me sick.
“America’s Sweetheart.” This label has been slapped on everyone from Julia Roberts to Sandra Bullock to Meg Ryan to Jennifer Garner to Reese Witherspoon. Shouldn’t the correct phrase then be “one of many members of the America’s Sweethearts Club”? Plus, who determines this status? Sometimes I’ll look at someone labeled thusly (not anyone mentioned above) and think, “She’s not my sweetheart.”
“Best movie/book of the year” when it’s March. ‘Nuff said.
“Breath of fresh air.” I thought this was stale first time I heard it.
“Unputdownable.” I just hate that word, and not because it’s not a real one. I’m all for new words being coined and it was (maybe) cute the first few times, but after the 2,927th time, I’m done.

What about you? Is there a hokey phrase that will guarantee you won’t buy a book if you see it on the cover?

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Tell Me a Story About…Fence

Last night, the hubster and I played that game I’ve featured here a couple times, where one person throws out a random, ordinary word and the other tells whatever story/memory that word triggers. (This is based on something Elizabeth Gilbert wrote about doing with her lover Felipe in her book, Committed.)

The word my husband gave me was “fence.” Here’s my story.

When I was a kid living in Saigon (I don’t know why I always reach way back to childhood memories), my bedroom window overlooked the neighbor’s backyard. Every afternoon, my mother made me go to my room to take a nap, but instead of doing so, I’d spy on the people next door. Not all Rear Window-y with binocs or anything; more like killing time until I could go downstairs and say I’d slept.

Usually, the only thing I ever saw was the old lady next door taking her nap in the backyard hammock. What amused me was she’d wake up with diamond-shaped etchings on one side of her face from the hammock pattern. It made her look like she’d been standing for a long time with her face pressed up against a chain-link fence. I started referring to her as “fence-face lady”—though never to her face—because I didn’t know her name.

One day, after she awoke, she abruptly pulled down her elastic-waist black pajama pants and urinated right there in the yard. (No wonder her grass was always so green.) Seeing the same criss-cross indentations on her rear, I yelped, “Oh no! She has a fence butt, too!” From that moment on, she became fence-butt lady.

I’m not trying to be crude or cute with this story. I honestly still think of her when I hear the word “fence.” I wonder if she got out of Viet Nam after the war, though I’m quite sure she didn’t because most of the older people I knew chose to stay. I can only hope she didn’t end up behind a different kind of fence.

So, what/who do you think of when you hear “fence”? Have you ever been in a Turkish prison?

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