Innocent Bystander

The art of the celebrity interview once again dies a little in Esquire magazine...

I picked up a copy of Esquire magazine the other day, solely for research purposes. I gave up on Esquire a while back, mainly because most of the time it comes off as the most pompous of American magazines. But I'm researching some magazine design stuff, and one thing I can say whole-heartedly about Esquire, it's one of the best designed magazines out there. Except the covers. The cover designs are a gimmick gone wild. A year or two ago, they started doing these type-heavy covers with a celebrity of some sort standing in front of the type, like it was on a wall or something. It was cool the first time I saw it, annoying the second, and now--in about it 25th or so issue--it's just ugly and unimaginative. Having a format is great. Flogging it to death is not.

The current issue of Esquire features an interview with actor Christian Bale (not Kristen Bell--say the two names and be amazed how close they sound) that defines the celebrity interview in the pages of this magazine. I don't think I've ever read one that wasn't more about the interviewer than the subject. This one is a case in point. Admittedly, Bale would be a hard nut to crack. He clearly doesn't like to do press. But this time out the interviewer argues with Bale about the Q&A format the actor insists upon, to avoid being misquoted. After all, it IS an interview, so questions must be asked, answers should be forthcoming, even from somebody as reticent as Bale. The interviewer doesn't agree and spends most of the article sneaking in his own thoughts about Bale.

Bale argues that interviewers tend to be people who want to be novelists and "got stuck interviewing me...so they're writing these novellas..." And the interviewer, who writes almost incessantly about his chafing under this Q&A format bears him out when--late in the article--he writes, "He (Bale) leads the way out to a balcony overlooking the Pacific where there are rich men in blazers with icy cocktails and frosted wives."

Yep. Frustrated novelist for sure.

 

Magazine rack: the new issue of Entertainment Weekly...

Reading each issue of Entertainment Weekly is like gambling on a slot machine: you pull the handle and wait to see what pops up of interest. Sometimes you get three cherries, three great feature articles that you can't wait to dive into. And sometimes you get zilch. But rarely have I seen an issue like the April 2 one, featuring the imminently forgettable Katherine Heigl in an "angelic" pose on the cover. It has the added bonus of being an EW cover that makes you wonder "Who the hell is that?"

The cover feature is on Heigl leaving Grey's Anatomy, a story that seems so old you'd think the rest of the issue would have interviews with new stars Burt Lancaster and Gregory Peck. Heigl became a newly-minted star herself with her turn in Judd Apatow's Knocked Up. She coasted on the new found fame of movie stardom while Apatow was still making movies that were remotely appealing and she has yet to make another movie that is even semi-enjoyable. The Ugly Truth, anyone? I rest my case. She's the poster child for spoiled stardom. 

But this issue doesn't stop there. It goes on to become a pop culture masterpiece when it comes to turning me off. An American Idol article? Check! "Tiger Woods Checks Into Image Rehab?" Check! Articles on both Miley Cyrus AND Jennifer Lopez? Check AND double-check! (My sixth addition to "5 Ways Jennifer Lopez Can Get Back on Top:" Retire gracefully.) And of course the obligatory blowjob to some sort of "legendary" Hollywood figure, this time producer Jerry Weintraub. Check!

I love Entertainment Weekly and I've read every issue since its inception back in 1990. But boy, when it's bad, it's really f*cking bad, and this week's issue is a new nadir. But that photo of an unrecognizable Heigl on the cover--best known as a blonde, now a brunette--sure is crying out for a Sharpie mustache and goatie.

Magazine rack: Vanity Fair's Hollywood 2010 issue...

Vanity Fair is back this year with its annual Hollywood issue. I say "back" because I don't really recall one last year, since the March issue, timed for the Academy Awards, cover-featured the anointing of Barack Obama as President of these United States. But this issue more than makes up for the lack of Hollywood features last year.

Besides an inordinately long blowjob disguised as an article on Relativity Media's Ryan Kavanaugh--filled with such breathless quotes as: "He has the nerve and tastes of an old-fashioned showman," and "Bring Ryan into that meeting and an hour later everybody's singing in Capri"--there's a great assortment of articles here on both old and new Hollywood, not to mention the gatefold cover that showcases some of the movie industry's new hot actresses. The best photo in the entire magazine is the one showing about-to-bust-out laughing Carey Mulligan right behind oh-so-serious-and-glowering Twilight star Kristen Stewart (on page 232).The articles include a look at the making of Raging Bull, the behind the scenes story on the almost-biography on producer/studio head Jon Peters (still a worthless piece of crap floating in the toilet known as Hollywood--don't worry, he can't read, so he'll never see this), a love story to Ali MacGraw, and a great look at the ink and paint "girls" who worked during the golden age of Disney animation, plus the usual photo section on Hollywood today and the ubiquitous and entirely money-focused Hollywood Top 40. The best article is a long one on John Hughes, who died at 59 last summer in New York City. Hughes is best remembered as the writer/director behind the teen trilogy Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Ferris Buehler's Day off, but he also wrote National Lampoon's Vacation, Mr. Mom, Beethoven (the dog one, not the deaf composer one), and the Home Alone movies. He had an amazing ability to capture the voice of teenage America at a time when he himself was in his thirties, but I think the article--by David Kamp--offers a telling look into how he was able to do that. He married his high school sweetheart and I think his entire sensibility was kind of frozen in those years, like a big talented mosquito who was dipped in amber and found eons later. Hughes was a compulsive writer and sketcher, compiling Moleskin notebook after notebook, the article also reveals. I wish someone would edit them down and publish them. He was the voice of a generation, at least in films, and he remains a fascinating almost-enigma, throwing away the entire Hollywood career to go raise his family near Chicago. He remained married to his high school sweetheart until he died. Now that's a love story.

Why I won't be renewing my TIME magazine subscription...

Once upon a time, I lived for TIME. The magazine, that is.

Back in the mid-1970s, I did the oh-so-adult thing of subscribing to my first mainstream magazine, and it was TIME. Each week it would arrive in my mailbox, offering me a unique view of the world around me. But even at that point in time, TIME was not quite timely. If you wanted to stay on top of the news, you read a daily newspaper. TIME did a great job of compiling the big news stories of the week, offering in-depth coverage of major stories and often insightful commentary on things that mattered most to concerned readers.

But if TIME was a bit of a dinosaur 30-some years ago, it's as old as the Big Bang these days. With cable TV news blasting its usually wonky commentary 24 hours a day, and the Internet (you're soaking in it) seemingly reporting news BEFORE it happens, TIME has seen better days. MUCH better days.

About a year or so ago I got one of those unbelievable subscription offers in the mail: a year's worth of TIME for $19.95. Still harboring fond memories of the magazine--which I dropped back in the mid-1990s or so--I took the plunge and subscribed. And, boy am I sorry.

TIME has become a magazine filled with columnists. You remember columnists, don't you? Let's just say they were yesterday's bloggers, only they got paid--sometimes quite handsomely--for their writing. TIME has given up being timely altogether these days, and instead relies on a small network of columnists to fill up the scant pages of the magazine (the current issue clocks in at 68 pages or so--some of the ad pages are numbered separately). TIME still makes a half-hearted effort to report the news of the preceding week, in an upfront section called "Briefing," but it all seems so dated and useless.

Instead we're subjected to the same writers week after week. Joe Klein. James Poniewozik (who does have an excellent cover story on Jay Leno in this issue that covers everything that's wrong about his new show on NBC--but isn't that more the province of sister magazine Entertainment Weekly?). Movie critic Richard Corliss. And the back-page denizen, Joel Stein. Stein once worked for EW for a short period of time. It was a time I toyed with the idea of canceling my subscription to that magazine, too.

I find none of these columnists enjoyable or even readable, and the whole idea of columnists in a news magazine seems almost quaint--although annoyingly quaint--at this point in time. TIME is one of a dying breed. If daily newspapers can't sustain an audience, what hope does a weekly newsmagazine have? I can see room for niche and genre magazines like People and EW. But news is all so temporary. Watch you local newscasts. Whatever they're leading with tonight will be an afterthought tomorrow night. Today's lead story is the at the bottom of the A-block the next day, all but gone by the end of the week, sometimes never to return. TIME does some excellent reporting on bigger issues and has been especially diligent over the past year I've been paging through it (almost never actually reading it), each week on things like the economy and health care.

But oy, these columnists! Maybe they should just go out and get themselves a blog or two. When my number comes up for renewal in December, I'll be letting go of TIME, I'm afraid, never again to be seduced by some too-good-to-be-true monetary offer. I guess there's TWO things money can't buy you: love or TIME.

Magazine Rack: Special New York Times Sunday edition...

I get itchy for New York City every year around this time. I have a short trip planned in about 2 and a half months, and this time, for the first time in quite a few years, I should be up there when fall is in full bloom. The past few years, I've gone up in mid-September, before the temperatures drop and the trees change. This year it'll be late October, and only for 3 days, but I am starting to look forward to it more and more. These days, anything to look forward to is grabbed and held and treasured. Trust me on this.

As part of my prep work for any trip to the mythical kingdom of NYC, I start off by buying a Sunday New York Times, just to do a little reconoitering. Being a hot day in August, the Times was as thin as the stack of cash in my wallet and a quick read, but still not without its own small revelations...

Such as: who decides who are pertinent personalities in the Times these days? The Magazine has an article on Anne Heche (seriously: WHO CARES?) and the Arts and Leisure section has an article on Tom Arnold. What? Joan and Melissa Rivers weren't interested? Like NBC, has the Times gone the route of including pop culture personalities who have become punch lines to their own jokes (see this season's Celebrity Apprentice on NBC for more information)? Does the newspaper of record actually think that either Heche or Arnold are personalities anyone cares about? What's next? An in-depth look at the life and career of Billy Mays?

I am constantly amazed by the wedding announcements. Some are accompanied by photos and those that are all contain at least one person of extraordinary beauty. One photo today includes a couple who are both 51. He looks like her father, she looks all of 25.

Finally, this issue of the Times includes a longish article on the financial woes of the photographer Annie Liebowitz. The Times seems shocked that an artist of such stature could be in such deep money trouble. HELLO! She's a freakin' artiste. When have you ever known ANY artist who could handle money? This is as earth-shattering a story as the profiles on has-beens Heche and Arnold.

Today's Sunday Times gives new meaning to the term "slow news day."

Magazine Rack...Entertainment Weekly goes up in smoke, Esquire still sucks.

I'm sure there are plenty of magazines that still accept cigarette ads, but I never seen them. I don't read Playboy, Sports Illustrated, GQ, or any typically male magazine, with the possible exception of Esquire (about which, see below). So imagine my shock, surprise and utter disdain when I find a big, honkin', stiff-paper insert for "American Spirit" cigarettes in my new Entertainment Weekly, which arrived yesterday in the mailbox.

Just the other day, while perusing the EW.com website, I was assaulted by a giant American Spirit banner ad, which expanded onto my screen, covering up everything I was reading. These kind of ads are annoying enough, but when they're for cigarettes, it seems even more annoying to me. I'm guessing EW, like every other print publication, is hard up enough for ad revenue that a big cigarette campaign is welcome, both in its print and online editions. But whatever happened to doing the right thing? Sure, American Spirit bills itself as a "natural" cancer stick, but there it is FOUR times on the insert: "No additives in our tobacco does NOT mean a safe cigarette." (And, yes, they added the all caps on NOT and bolded it, too...not me.) It's organic, it has no additives, it has a pipe-smoking Indian on the cover! It's American, dammit! It's also a cigarette. Plus $20 gift certificates--hey kids, free cigs!

Entertainment Weekly...I am incredibly disappointed in you.

As for Esquire, I sometimes think it's the most incredible waste of paper on the newsstand. They're still flogging to death those type-heavy covers where the "star" of the issue floats on top of text. It was cool the first time, annoying the second, now it's so overdone it's ridiculous. The current issue--with the incredibly over-rated Megan Fox (Angelina Jolie-lite) on the cover--is ostensibly a movie issue, but you won't want to read any of the articles. Their Terminator Salvation article is about two things only: a scene containing a scream and why McG isn't a dick because he calls himself McG. The Pelham 1-2-3 article talks about the original movie (The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3) starring Walter Matthau and Robert Shaw and goes on about how bad it is (he'd never even heard of it before--and he's writing about MOVIES?), but leaves out the fact that it has one of the coolest endings ever and then goes on to give Tony Scott, the director of the remake--starring Denzel Washington and John Travolta--the equivalent of a blowjob in print. So much for a movie issue.

I'm still waiting for a publisher to come along and do a serious movie mag again. Premiere was great in its hey-day, and with the American box office ramming its way to a record year (in this economic climate!), shouldn't there be a market for us movie lovers? The UK has the great Empire magazine (the one on the newsstand right now here in the States is a beauty, guest-edited by Steven Spielberg). At 10 bucks a throw, it's a pricey import, but it's pretty much all we got here in the US (plus the other Brit imports, all equally expensive and not as good). If the French can keep Premiere going, why can't we?

Magazine Rack...

The new issue of Time Magazine has a cover feature called "How to Save Your Newspaper (A Modest Proposal)". No offense to Time, but maybe they should concentrate on how to save Time Magazine. This issue is a paper-thin 56 pages, plus covers, with only 12.5 ad pages, one of which is a Time Inc. ad, with another that looks like a public service announcement (i.e. freebie?). Of the ads, 4 of the pages are drug company ads, 2 ads taking up 2 pages each. Even Time's magazine cousin, Entertainment Weekly, has more pages (64) this week. Either the news biz is slow or fading, or entertainment news is king. Maybe Time needs to do a Jessica Simpson cover.

Looks like Vanity Fair has ended an almost 15-year tradition with its latest issue. The March issue has been--over the past few years--the traditional "Hollywood Issue," and while it's still on the cover, type-wise ("Plus: Hollywood 2009!"), this issue is given over to a different theme with its "Special Commemorative Inauguration Issue!" top line and a picture of that guy. You know who I mean, oh his name is on the tip of my tongue! You know...the black dude that was just sworn in as president. OBAMA! Yeah, that's it. Boy, I haven't seen him on a magazine cover in AGES.

Is this just poor planning on VF's fault? Shouldn't Obama have been the cover feature LAST issue, during the actual inaugural month? Or has the magazine given up the ghost on wall-to-wall Hollywood coverage during the Oscar season? It could be worse, I suppose. They could have handed the whole thing over to the self-appointed "icon" Tom Ford to edit again.

I'm a tad late on this, but New York Magazine had a great article on Sully Sullenberger last week, the pilot who landed that USAirways jet smack dab in the middle of the Hudson River in New York City. It pointed out how this is the only time a pilot ever made a successful water landing, and it was part luck, part skill that it happened, a "perfect storm" gathering of circumstances that included conditions--wind, distance, Sully's glider training--that made a perfect water landing possible. (It also pointed out how the commercial air travel business has changed since the time Sully became a pilot, and how pilots like him are a vanishing breed). Sully is going to do his first-ever interview on 60 Minutes tomorrow night, and I know I'll be watching. I also know I'll be crying. When it comes to stories about heroism and a word greatly underused these days--triumph--I'm a sucker.

Magazine rack...

The latest issue of Entertainment Weekly (with the departure of CSI's William Peterson as the cover story) contains one of the grossest misuses of editorial resources--not to mention just plain old PAPER--I've ever seen in a magazine. EW--which I have been reading since the very first issue and look forward to each and every week, because let's face it, my life is bereft of even the most barren form of amusement--has taken it upon itself to "revote" the Oscars. This doesn't seem like a bad idea on the surface, if the purpose is to go back and "correct" what are regarded as Oscar wrongs over the years. But that's not what they did. Instead they "...focused on five different years—2003, 1998, 1993, 1988, and 1983 (picked with no agenda other than that they were 5, 10, 15, 20, and 25 years ago)..." WTF? Why bother?

The article, titled "And the Oscar Should Have Gone to...", touts itself as a "recall," and utilized online voting on the EW website. The results? Well out of 30 categories "re-voted" upon (best picture, actor, actress, supporting actor and actress, and director), 7--SEVEN!--whole awards were different, with one tie. And yes, while Roberto Benigni should NEVER have gotten an award for best actor in 1998, they still can't retroactively erase from our memory the horror of watching him accept the award.

Why even bother to do this? Is EW that hard up for material that they have to rehash such garbage? Or did they need some kind of easily-formatted list type article that would fit conveniently around full-page ads (4 pages of the article have ads facing them on the right-hand page).

On a related note--an ad--is anyone else offended by the print ads for the new Showtime series, United States of Tara? While EW has a spiffy little lenticular card insert touting the show, the accompanying full-page ad--which shows 4 of the star's split personalities--mentions executive producer Steven Spielberg, the show's title and various other pertinent info--but fails to mention the name of the star, Toni Collette. The back of the lenticular card does mention her. But isn't she one of the selling points of the show? And isn't she fairly unrecognizable in the 4 separate identities featured in the ad and on the card? (The show's tagline is: "One woman. Multiple personalities." Didn't Lucy do this each Monday night in the '50s?) Lesson learned: Spielberg trumps acting talent each and every time. It's the name above the title that matters.

Los Angeles Magazine "The Sex Issue:" You're doing it wrong...

I love Los Angeles Magazine, and their new issue is devoted to a topic a lot of people love, namely sex. But there's something radically wrong if the lead story in the sex sex-tion is about David Spade. Seriously, whether true or not, even imagining the androgynous boy-man as "The Don Juan of our time" or "the no. 1 stud in town," as the cover so breathlessly proclaims, achieves the opposite of the issue's purpose, which is, of course, to titillate (yes, pun intended...I'm that cheap). I mean c'mon, the guy isn't even funny. He's the star of Joe Dirt, for Christ's sake, and he's smarmy AND whiny. I'm not buying it, no matter who confesses to banging him, or how many kids out of wedlock crawl out of the woodwork, literally.

Yes, I'm calling a Spade a spade here.

Seriously?

Are the editors at Playboy so bereft of ideas for online photo spreads that they've actually resorted to "The Girls of the Olive Garden?" According to TMZ.com the answer is yes. Or do you think maybe this is just a simple case of product placement (insert breadsticks joke here--wow, that's a DOUBLE double entendre!)? I tend to think they're working their way through the restaurant franchise phone book. Personally, I can't wait for "Shakey's Hot and Saucy Pizza Girls."