The Many Ways In Which Jay Leno Is A Hypocrite

Sigh. Either this story won't die, or I won't let it. Take your pick. Anyway, Jay Leno went onto Oprah Winfrey's show today (in a taped interview in his studio in Burbank, California--way to seem personable, Jay!) to tell his side of the story in the most recent late-night wars. Granted, Jay did have the platform that Oprah has: a five-day-a-week, hourlong program in which he could dictate a nice chunk of the content. Did he not get a chance to tell his story then? Well, of course he did. He portrayed himself as not just a victim, but the victim. Feel bad for Conan O'Brien, sure, but make sure you feel real bad for Jay Leno. Don't forget, he got fired. Don't forget, the ratings that Conan had were what kicked him out. Don't forget, he took the 11:35 timeslot to save the jobs of the people working for his show.

Don't forget, because as long as he keeps reminding you not to forget all of those things, you might be able to poke holes all over his argument. I could tell you about the many ways in which Jay Leno is an idiot, a douchebag, an asshole, or a selfish whiner, but all you need to do is read the transcript or watch the interview, and you need no further proof. But I can't let it go, because even the television writers I respect and read seem to....well, let's be honest, there are other stories going on now, and I can't blame them for wanting to get rid of the nasty aftertaste the ordeal left. But Jay Leno, big shock, is being a huge fucking hypocrite.

First, the idea that Jay got fired. Jay didn't just get fired, he got fired twice. See, when you get fired, your hourlong comedy show gets moved from one timeslot to another. Sorry, let me try again. When you get fired, your hourlong comedy show not only gets moved from one timeslot to another, but it gets moved to a timeslot that is far better, because more people are going to be awake. Wait, one more time. When you get fired, your hourlong comedy gets moved to a better timeslot, and does so at the expense of hundreds of other people whose dramas aren't going to get picked up by the network you work for. See, Jay's a people person. He cares about the people who work for his show. He doesn't, however, care about the people who work for Conan O'Brien. He also doesn't care (or, according to the interview, he is unaware of their existence) about the people whose shows weren't renewed or picked up, because the 10 p.m. timeslot was closed to them.

Jay Leno did not get fired. If I get fired, I am not placed in a better job. I am promoted. If I get fired, I do not come back to work. If you want to argue that, in 2004, Jay Leno was fired, you may. And as soon as Jay Leno publicly said he would retire, your argument fell apart. Moreover, it's hard to call that getting fired when, by the time Leno's last 11:35 show aired, he had a better job with more money. Jay Leno did not get fired. He got promoted for, as Jeff Zucker does, failing upwards.

Second, the ratings. I am tired to death about the ratings. The ratings were destroying the 11:35 franchise, says Leno. Jay Leno is an interesting person to make such an accusation, especially when you consider a few things. First of all, Jay Leno did a terrible job with the ratings in the 3 years in between him taking over for Johnny Carson and when Hugh Grant came on his show in August 1995. After that, Leno had all the ratings in the world. But how great were Leno's ratings? Not that great, unless you consider 5 million overall viewers and a 1.4 18-49 rating great. And guess what? If you work for a broadcast network, and a primetime show does that rating, that rating sucks. That's why Jay Leno's 10:00 show failed. Because he got those ratings, and he got them against CBS dramas.

So, how well did Conan O'Brien do in those ratings? Well, in overall viewership, yes, he was not doing so hot. People had left him for David Letterman, by a margin of over one million viewers by the time December came around. But advertisers don't care. And advertisers set the rates, which is what makes networks money. So all the networks should care about is the 18-49 rating, because that's all advertisers care about. The best ratings equal the most money. Conan did have a decreased 18-49 rating, 1.1. So, who was the number-one host at 11:35 while Conan was on? Why, Conan O'Brien, of course. Yeah, see, NBC wanted Conan O'Brien to leave because he wasn't the best number-one host compared with Jay Leno a year ago.

What's most frustrating about the interview is that Oprah Winfrey is very obviously in the tank for Jay Leno. Now, that's fine; she's entitled to her opinion and her interview was not heavily biased. Her after-show online video was, and she very clear condescended to the viewers, even though she was shocked, SHOCKED, that people may not see Leno favorably. See, Oprah said, it's all about business. And if it IS all about business, someone can explain to me how, if you fail in primetime, you are given another slot. That's what's frustrating now; Oprah and the few other folks in favor of Leno are trying to act like the whole Jay Leno at 10:00 thing didn't happen. Not just didn't work, didn't happen. Oprah had an analogy in her post-show, comparing Jay to someone who gets fired. Because, again, if you get fired, you move to a better position in the same company. That's how getting fired works. For people like Oprah and Jay Leno, people who make more money in a year than I will ever make.

But the ratings are what they are. Conan's ratings were lower, but not low. They were not disastrous. They were not, as Jay said falsely, what the affiliates were mad about. The affiliates could not give a fuck if Conan doesn't do great. They care about their local news, which comes before Conan, but after, for four months, Jay. That's the funny thing about lead-ins. Conan had bad ratings in the fall, thanks to Jay Leno's poor lead-in. Jay Leno does badly, so the local news does badly. The local news does badly, so Conan O'Brien does badly. But what about the summer? What's Conan's excuse, you ask? Well, kids, it's the SUMMER. Summer television not only sucks, but gets bad ratings. Summer television never gets good ratings. So Conan's ratings suffered from the get-go. But the affiliates were only ever mad about Leno at 10:00. They may be happy that he's back at 11:35, but that doesn't matter to NBC. If one affiliate tells them they're not showing Jay Leno, NBC can push back. If they all say it, it's harder to avoid. The facts are that Jay Leno's ratings are what did him in. Not Conan O'Brien's.

The jobs. Jay took the old timeslot because otherwise, his employees would be out of work. But Conan O'Brien's people? Oh, does he have people? Jay probably doesn't know. Oprah (full credit due here, too) asked Jay about the countless people who would have lost their jobs by not having hourlong dramas airing at 10:00. And Jay just kind of shrugged it off, not having been aware at the time of those people being put out of work. Just as he shrugged off the people he was putting out of work by going back to late-night television in early 2008, crossing the picket lines. Did it matter then? No, because Jay's a workaholic, according to Oprah. He likes telling jokes, even if they're not funny. So it's OK if he wants to work, because it's what he wants. See, he is just looking out for his people. His people are more important than Conan's people. They're more important because...well, they work with Jay, right? That must be it. That is the only reason I can think of, and even that reason is fucking insane.

Jay Leno is a hypocrite and a liar. Oh, and by the way, Jay, telling people on national television that you will retire when you'd rather not is not a little white lie. It's a big fucking lie. So, Jay's a hypocrite. He's a liar. He's a scumbag. And the fact that he can go ragging on Conan O'Brien while Conan has to keep shtum until three months from now is unfair, but it is what it is. But if he keeps talking out of his ass, I'm going to keep ranting. Just like the average guy that I am.

Why I'm With Conan

Well, the late-night wars of 2010 seem to be closing down for the time being; what better time, then, for me to tell you why I'm on the side I'm on? Yes, I'm the king of bad timing, but so it goes. I say the wars are closing down for now, but I think it's pretty clear that, should Conan O'Brien do what is expected and be on the airwaves again in September, they'll pick up heat by the fall. For now, though, things have cooled off considerably. So much so that so few people realized today that The Tonight Show With Jay Leno at 10 p.m. (also known as The Jay Leno Show) is leaving television a little earlier than expected. NBC had originally said that Jay would be on primetime until the Winter Olympics began on February 12. Now, they've quietly announced that he'll be leaving, somewhat inexplicably, on February 9.

What huge, blowout-style guests will Jay have? Will he play guitar on his last night? How much money will he spend on comedy bits; rather, how much money will he claim to spend? Right, I know Jay's thought of as not being terribly creative, but if he steals jokes from other talk-show hosts who are still on the air, why not those who've been fired?

And let's be clear: Conan O'Brien was fired. He may have gone as willingly as a person can in his unusual situation, but he was fired. The question that NBC asked itself and answered almost immediately was this: who is important to us? Is Jay Leno more important than Conan O'Brien? Are they of equal importance? Of course not. See, Jay gets a 1.4 rating at 11:35 and Conan gets a 1.1 rating in the same demographic, that old 18-49 demographic. Does it matter that both men topped David Letterman in the demo? No. Does it matter that Jay's audience is getting older and Conan's is getting...slightly less old?

As fascinating as the numbers game is (even if no one has yet given a solid and sane explanation of why a cheap, five-night-a-week hourlong talk show that gets ratings that would be modest on the CW is considered a huge success), what the last couple of weeks has reminded me is this: when it comes to late-night television, there are only a few people whose shows I want to give my time to. There's Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, the two Comedy Central hosts that I've been watching for years. There's--granted, I'm just beginning to check him out, but I'm liking what I see--Craig Ferguson, whose cranky yet weird persona reminds me of upcoming guest Eddie Izzard. And there's Conan O'Brien. In watching some clips from his 12:35 show, I'm reminded that he's certainly evolved as a late-night host and comedian. Would the Conan O'Brien of 1994 have thought the Conan O'Brien of 2009 was as funny? Are they equally funny? Well, no. But is that a bad thing?

Some people have said that it was only the final two weeks of his 11:35 show when his true persona came out to shine; certainly, there was a solid awareness that Conan had nothing to lose, so why not try anything? But then they showed the montage of what Conan had done for the past seven months at the beginning of the last show, and I realized that...yeah, Conan's been doing pretty crazy shit at 11:35. If the Masturbating Bear doesn't show up, that doesn't mean he's not funny anymore. It means he's trying new things. (Quick question: why is it that something like the Masturbating Bear is inappropriate at 11:35 at night, but it's cool at 12:35? Do people wake their kids up for the monologue or something?). I liked Twitter Tracker. I liked the wax figure of Tom Cruise. I liked all of it.

But I was guilty of something many fans were: I didn't watch Conan's show all the time. I watched it for the first three months, and then I just stopped. Why? It wasn't any less funny. I wondered why I needed to. There were no stakes, if that makes any sense. It was taking up too much space on the TiVo. But in watching the last two weeks, I became determined in the most important way: I will watch Conan's new show. Doesn't matter what time it's on; doesn't matter who the guests are. I will watch. Every night. In that way, I am on Team Coco. He's the funniest man on network television, and NBC is going to realize they made a big mistake.

Where should Conan go? Should: Comedy Central. Will: Fox. Why will he go to Fox? They'll want him, and they'll do whatever they can. Why should he go to Comedy Central? Can you imagine a block of Stewart, Colbert, O'Brien? It's manna from heaven. He'll want to go elsewhere, so he can be the dominant force, not following someone else. I don't blame him; frankly, I know why he'd want that control. But what about freedom? Fox will have affiliates; affiliates may not like what they see. They will want a certain level of ratings. Comedy Central will have none of those problems. Jon Stewart, on a good night, gets 1.5 million total viewers. Conan will not have a problem maintaining such a threshold. He should go to Comedy Central, because he can go crazy with whatever he wants to do. He should go to cable, period. And I'll watch him till the day he retires, for real.

The Lovely Bones

Oh, Peter Jackson. Sigh. As a defender of his 2005 version of King Kong, I would love to champion his latest effort, a big-screen adaptation of Alice Sebold's popular novel, The Lovely Bones. I cannot lie, though, and it hurts to do so. Jackson is a visionary talent, and he's got his meal ticket paid for eternity, if only because of his Lord of the Rings trilogy. But he's got some serious work to do if this is the best he can do in terms of cinematic growth. The Lovely Bones is more cinematic devolution, not evolution.

The Lovely Bones is narrated by Susie Salmon, a 14-year-old girl who dies in 1973 at the hands of a creepy neighbor named George Harvey. Salmon narrates the film from beyond the grave, as she hangs out in what amounts to a very pretty version of Purgatory. She narrates as she watches her family deal with her death, try to figure out who did it, and how to move on with their lives. The unique part of the movie is the former, as we envision what Susie sees past the grave, a colorful and odd vision of a near-Heaven. As impressive as parts of the movie are, though, here is a movie that makes mistake after mistake after mistake.

Before we wade into my criticism, let's get this much out of the way: Peter Jackson has an eye for visuals. The Lovely Bones has many flaws, but one of them is not the look. Both in the real-world version of the 1970s and in the vision of Heaven, Jackson succeeds. The cinematography, by Jackson collaborator Andrew Lesnie, is pitch-perfect, and I sincerely hope it gets an Oscar nod. Though the special effects sometimes seem a bit too special, and not blended enough, it's a rare distraction. Whatever positive comments I've got, they're almost all about the visuals.

The other noteworthy performer is Stanley Tucci, as the murderous George Harvey. Tucci, sporting a sleazy combover and making his voice sound a bit more chalky, is as creepy as possible as someone who really should've been found earlier. If Harvey was always this icky, how did no one else figure him out? Whatever the case is, Tucci's performance is arguably the most notable element of the movie, as Tucci dominates every scene he's in. But here's the thing: where I would normally tell you that Tucci steals the movie from everyone else, I won't. Why? How can the lead performer steal the movie?

That's the first big problem of The Lovely Bones. Harvey is not the main character of the book. Susie Salmon, as portrayed by Saoirse Ronan, is. If not her, let's focus on her dad, played by Mark Wahlberg. But, no. Tucci not only dominates his scenes, but he's got a lot of them. A lot. Way too many. I'd love to know a breakdown of how long he's onscreen, because it feels like he's got more screen time than anyone except Ronan, who's fine here, but not amazing. Why does Jackson, and his co-writers Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens, focus so much on Harvey? I can't say, but I know that focus makes a lot of the scenes featuring Susie's family, especially the fractured relationship between Wahlberg and wife Rachel Weisz, feel underdeveloped and pointless. One transition, as Wahlberg takes the advice of local detective Michael Imperioli (very good in a thankless part) and gets his drunk mother-in-law to help his wife cope with Susie's death, is inappropriately funny.

I wish I could tell you that it's not Wahlberg to blame, but...yeah, I understand that Wahlberg is the right age for the character, and I know he can play more than a blank slate (see The Departed), but this is not a great role for him. Why not cast Sam Rockwell or Peter Sarsgaard? Why not expand the character in the script? Why have Weisz leave her entire family to work in an orange grove? Why have her come back at the weirdest and worst possible moment? Why? Yeah, there's just too many questions that don't get answered in the real-life portion of the movie. What of the supernatural portion? Though the visuals are impressive, I found them unnecessary. Can someone explain to me the scene where Susie and her fellow dead-girl friend parade around their imaginary world and get plastered on the covers of teen magazines? What the hell was that?

In the end, my problem with The Lovely Bones is a lot of little questions. Susan Sarandon, as the Salmon grandmother, is meant to be comic relief, and does fine in her time on screen. But why is she on screen? Why am I watching a montage of her being a bad would-be parent? Why? Why? Peter Jackson, why? I know many people have been lambasting The Lovely Bones, and I wish I could stem the tide. But, in the end, I can only ask why it happened at all.

The Hurt Locker

How do you solve a problem like war? How do you solve a problem like making a movie about war? Somehow, Hollywood has not been able to crack that nut, especially in terms of financial success. Granted, a majority of the recent Iraq War movies, such as Rendition or In The Valley of Elah, aren't great (the latter features a great performance from Tommy Lee Jones, and nothing else). Still, none of these movies make money, which has not a thing to do with a movie's quality. If the world was just, Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen wouldn't have made over 400 million dollars, and The Hurt Locker wouldn't have made only 15 million.

Ah, but, such is life. Despite its incredibly low box-office take, The Hurt Locker, which is not only one of the very best films of 2009, but is also a brilliant wartime film and an uncommonly tense character study, is getting a lot of awards buzz. The film is up for a few Golden Globes (and, as of the time I write this, it hasn't won anything yet, but who knows?), it's won countless critics' awards, and remains one of the highest-rated films of the year. With any luck, and a lot of forcing, regular people will watch The Hurt Locker and accept it for what it is: a positionless war movie.

Yes, it could be argued that the movie is against war, but not specifically the Iraq War. There is no mention of the political state of things in 2004 (the year in which the movie is set), there is no mention of President George W. Bush, there is no mention of anything remotely left- or right-wing. Arguably, the movie is against war, but not this war. The plot, such as it is, goes like this: a trio of soldiers work as a bomb-defusing unit in Baghdad. The leader of the group, Staff Sergeant James (Jeremy Renner) is new to the company of men, thanks to the death of the previous Staff Sergeant (Guy Pearce, one of a few well-known actors who shows up for a handful of minutes) during a not-so-routine bomb defusing. James is extremely skilled and experienced (he humbly tells a superior officer that he has defused nearly 900 bombs), but he is also dangerous. As is hinted in the opening epigram, James is addicted to the tension of war. At the very least, he is an adrenaline junkie. Unfortunately for the two Specialists who flank him (Anthony Mackie and Brian Geraghty), it means they're always in the line of fire.

The story is simple, as screenwriter Mark Boal and director Kathryn Bigelow use it as a place on which to hang seven bravura action sequences of varying length and breadth. Not all of the setpieces involve defusing bombs (the shootout that occurs midway through has no bombs at all), but those that do are unrelentingly and unremittingly intense. Alongside Inglourious Basterds, The Hurt Locker is not only one of the tensest movies of this year, but of the last four or five. Though this movie is easily and appropriately classified as action, it's worth noting the irony here as opposed to something like the second Transformers movie: here's a film where the characters want NOTHING to explode.

Even on repeat viewings, The Hurt Locker is a strong and breathless experience. What works here is that the opening sequence establishes how dangerous the world of a bomb-defusing unit is: we open on Guy Pearce, a relatively familiar face. 10 minutes later, he's gone and replaced with Jeremy Renner, a not-so-familiar face. Who's to say that he doesn't die 10 minutes after being introduced? Thankfully, Renner stays with us, as the gung-ho, man's man lead. Renner has appeared in other films and TV shows, but here is his best and most understated performance. Even when he lets out a bit of emotion, it's appropriately annoyed; he rarely raises his voice or his temper, but when someone chooses to interrupt him while he works on a bomb, he's likely to lash out.

Though much deserved praise has been heaped upon Renner's performance (which missed out on a Globes nod, a befuddling error), don't forget Mackie and Geraghty, the two supporting players. Mackie is the straight man here, trying to rein in Renner's wild man James, but does so with ease and maturity. Geraghty has more to play with here, as his character arc is established from the opening sequence, when he flinches at the worst possible moment. His scenes with a military shrink who doesn't know from a battlefield (Christian Camargo) are short but subtly moving to watch.

It's rare that a movie that only has about 20 minutes that doesn't feature tense action is so well-structured, so deeply alive. And yet, here is The Hurt Locker, a smoothly directed, yet jittery and real story, a movie that just about never makes a mistake (I feel like the monologue Renner has in front of his son is a bit pat in the writing). The performances are vibrant and well-thought-through, the technical aspects are perfect, and the sequences are every bit as intense as the critical hyperbole states. If you have not seen this movie, go to Netflix, and get it. Buy it, sight unseen. But see it.

The Death of a Broadcast Network

Catchy title, right? Yes, I've decided to grab your attention before I bore you with a rant. Wait, don't go! Now, I know what you're thinking: what do I have to add to the cacophony of voices letting you know about their opinions on the latest debacle NBC has gotten itself into, to the point that it's likely going to destroy its late-night TV shows? Well, sure, my opinion may not be more unique, and there are no insiders, but I can string together a complete sentence, so I'm a leg or two up on most of the bloggers out there.

As I write this, Conan O'Brien is taping what could be his last night as the host of "The Tonight Show". It could be his last night, it could be nowhere near his last night. However, after this latest twist, wherein Conan releases a plainly-written yet extremely sharp and pointed statement telling NBC to shove it, who knows? Zachary Levi. Tom Brokaw. Roseanne Cash. Keep those names in mind, in case this is his last show, and you get a unique trivia question in 20 years. Those are the three guests on tonight's show.

So, what can I tell you? NBC is peopled by morons in its executive branch. Conan O'Brien continues to be the funniest late-night host on the broadcast networks. Jay Leno continues to be the most boring, safe comedian on television (yes, even moreso than George Lopez). Jimmy Fallon is losing out on the same opportunity O'Brien had years ago to build his show from its start. Carson Daly...well, I do feel bad for him, as he's being completely ignored. Can't say his show's great, but he deserves his time on NBC more than Jay Leno does.

As I've said elsewhere, one day, a book will be written about how NBC killed itself through various moves, and I would imagine a whole chunk of the tome will be dedicated to this debacle. From the very beginning of the decision, NBC executives, specifically Jeff Zucker, made mistake after mistake. OK, you're going to kick Leno off in 2009 for O'Brien. Fine. You make the announcement in 2004, so we're all aware of it. But Leno gets antsy, and you decide to give him what he wants: more money. More time to do his brand of humor, which is perfect for people who don't realize that they don't have a sense of humor.

But why? Why choose Leno over O'Brien? Conan's still a hilarious comedian and host, whereas Leno hasn't been fresh since Hugh Grant. The ratings that Leno had at 10 P.M. were crap (and you know what? I couldn't care less if NBC was fine with his shitty ratings), and the fact that NBC was cool with them just shows how lazy they are. That's why NBC is morphing into a low-rent cable network. They are fine with failure. Zucker and his executive friends have been fine with keeping the status quo for years, even though the status quo has been going down, down, down. People like "Friends"? Supersize it. Makes sense on one hand, but on the other, it means that NBC doesn't have to create new programs. Get football. Solves part of the Sunday schedule, but not all of it. Remake British shows so you don't have to work on creativity. Once, you'll get lucky. But even the ratings of "The Office" aren't amazing. It's the network's highest-rated scripted series, and gets under 10 million viewers on a good day.

Conan did the right thing by speaking out today, and if he's got a good head on his shoulders, he'll be gone by Martin Luther King Day, and NBC will be stuck with the same old thing in late-night, a five-hour gap in their primetime schedule, and competition from networks like Telemundo and Univision. Jeff Zucker may have just had his contract re-upped, but one day, he is going to fall as rapidly as his network. If ever a dictionary had the phrase "epic fail" in its pages, the description would read NBC. No further explanation.

The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard

Oh, Will Ferrell. Will Ferrell can be so damn funny, but he has long ago become a very overexposed comedian. I still think he's hilarious, and has given us one of the funniest films of the past decade, Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. But when it comes to something that was obviously meant to be a star vehicle for him, such as The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard, Ferrell knew well enough to only show up in a cameo. It's a pity, then, that the rest of this movie, with such a ridiculously long title that it probably took 90 minutes (the film's running time) to be devised, is as foolish as most Will Ferrell comedies.

The plot of The Goods revolves around Don Ready, a shyster car salesman who takes a team of salespeople across the country to push up sales at floundering dealerships. Don is played by Jeremy Piven, who can be funny. He has been funny in Entourage and in his explanation for backing out of Speed-the-Plow. Ready is not a bad character for him to play, but like recent comedies Year One and Land of the Lost, the movie he's in just dies on arrival. In short, and I hate to make the pun, and be the millionth person do so, but...this movie does not have the goods.

What's disappointing is the talent involved. Jeremy Piven, Ving Rhames, David Koechner, Kathryn Hahn, James Brolin, Ed Helms, Alan Thicke, Craig Robinson, Ferrell...All of these people are funny. All of them have the capacity to be good in films. And all of them are wrongly used or barely onscreen. What of the weird subplot where Hahn tries to sleep with Rob Riggle, playing a character who looks 30 but is really 10? What of Rhames' subplot, where he tries to find true love with a hot young stripper? What of Brolin wanting to sleep with Koechner? What of Alan Thicke, people? What of Alan Thicke?

Like the other two failed summer comedies I mentioned, I really wanted to like The Goods. I laughed once. I wanted so badly to give this movie a break. But, and I apologize for the shortness of this review, it's hard to explain why jokes aren't funny. If you don't laugh, you don't laugh. The Goods is a movie that tries so hard, and in doing so, fails to get any laughter. Bad comedies are always painful to watch, but bad comedies populated by some of the most talented funny people in Hollywood is excruciating.

Julie & Julia

Let's get this much out of the way right now. I am not, in any way, the target audience for Julie & Julia, the mash-up of two real-life stories involving the famous late chef Julia Child. I am not a woman, I don't much like Nora Ephron movies, I find Meryl Streep overrated, and Child's style of performing as a chef grated. So, yeah, the fact that I don't like this movie should not surprise you. "Why, then, Josh", you ask as you read this review, ready to attack if need be (for I somehow view you, dear reader, as hostile, and we can only assume I am foolish for thinking so), "Why, then, would you watch this movie if you knew you would not like it?"

Fair question, not-hostile reader. Most times, I avoid movies I'm predisposed to dislike. Take The Blind Side, a sleeper box-office success if there ever was one. I know I am not going to like this movie. I have nothing against true-story movies, nor sports movies, nor inspirational filmmaking. I have everything against Sandra Bullock. As with Meryl Streep, I do not like her, though for very different reasons. Whereas most people find Bullock's work in Miss Congeniality and Two Weeks Notice charming, I find it obnoxious. Granted, The Blind Side is not only a true story, but it's not a romantic comedy. Still, I get the feeling that Bullock's portrayal of a straight-talkin' Southern belle will drive me up a fucking wall. So, it's better that I don't see it; I'm biased enough as it is.

But, to answer the question at hand, I saw Julie & Julia because I am a good husband. My wife was recently sick, with pneumonia, and though I had no interest, I saw the movie at the store, knew she'd want to watch it, and picked it up. At the very least, she would have a good time. So, imagine my surprise that neither of us had a good time. Oh, there have been more terrible movies, and 2009 was not short of them. Two other movies I saw because I am a good husband? Transformers 2 and New Moon. I tell you, reader, I am a very good husband.

Ah, but Julie & Julia is not a good movie. The plots (first problem, too) are simple enough: one is about Julie Powell, a woman in her late twenties working in a post-9/11 job at Ground Zero. She hates her job, envies those of her vacuous friends, but finds an outlet when she decides to blog about cooking every recipe in the book Mastering the Art of French Cooking, co-written by Julia Child. The other plot is about how Julia Child, back in the 1950s, moved to Paris with her husband and was able to become such a well-respected chef that she co-wrote the very book Powell is working from.

So where lies the problem? Let's start with the easy issue: why does there need to be a second plot? All of the critics who slammed the section starring Amy Adams, a usually lovely and charming actress, as Powell were right. It's not just that when Adams is onscreen, we want Streep to come back. It's that Adams' presence is pointless, her character is self-absorbed, and our time is wasted. Never has this vivacious woman seemed less attractive, less charming, and less cheery. Powell is always thinking of number one, which is fine if we're not meant to find her a delightful little creature, learning how to "blog" on the "Internet". If, by the way, you're looking for any insight into how a blog became so successful back in 2002, aside from Powell writing for Salon.com, don't get excited.

So, with Adams (who has never been made to look less superficially attractive, by the way; call me shallow, but it's who I am) out of the picture, what of the storyline with Streep? Well, it's got Stanley Tucci. Streep is...OK, but she's never doing anything more than an impersonation of Julia Child. I never felt like she inhabited the character, in the same way that Philip Seymour Hoffman, for example, did in Capote. Granted, Hoffman had a lot more to work with, but Streep is just floundering. Her chemistry with Tucci, who plays her husband, is undeniable, and their scenes are the best of the movie. That doesn't make the movie any better when they're not both onscreen.

I leave you with this. There is a scene, about halfway through Julie & Julia in which Powell and her husband sit on the couch, watching the famous Saturday Night Live sketch wherein Dan Aykroyd portrays Child and cuts off his finger, spraying blood everywhere. It's a classic. There's no explanation as to how these two found the clip on TV. There's no reason for them to watch it. And they do watch it. All of it. Why? I have no idea. Some people are praising Streep, who will surely get an Oscar nod, because she is Meryl Streep playing a real person and doing a forceful impersonation; I don't agree, and, in general, my low expectations were actually surpassed, in the opposite way. Sigh.