Every story – even love stories that have been over for years, or decades – can be rebooted in an instant. It’s not until the real end, death without quotation marks, that “closure” in the truest sense of the word can be achieved, and then, only for those who are no longer around to benefit from it.
“Congratulations, Bangkok!” I said to the city as we exited and beelined to DJ Station, where the thrills were more PG-13. “You’ve accomplished the impossible. You’ve made sex totally unsexy.”
Start the Facebook campaign now! For all the pomp and circumstance of his music, Groban has the sort of sharp, self-deprecating humor that many of his superstar peers lack. When people make fun of his classical-pop musical style (and I will admit, I’ve taken some shots at it), I can imagine Groban laughing right along with them.
…But George Clooney? Yes, he’s been rocking salt-and-pepper hair since he became A-list. And yes, he’s clearly out of Zac Efron’s demographic. But he’s the sexiest man alive. How could he be hitting the half-century mark on the day before my birthday?
Here we go again. The years may change, but every December 31, the questions remain the same. Do I splurge on an overpriced, underwhelming dinner at a restaurant where the criminal intent is to rob special-occasion thrill-seekers blind?
Once again, I respectfully dissent. This time, with the Oscar prognosticators, whose general consensus is that Annette Bening is egregiously overdue. I understand where they’re coming from: She’s a first-rate actress and one of the few who has allowed herself to age gracefully onscreen. She also accomplished the seemingly impossible Hollywood task of taming Warren Beatty. But how overdue is she?
The downside: If it’s possible to pay your bills, watch movies, listen to music, or have an entire romance by pressing a keypad, why bother leaving the house at all? Feeling horny? Get laid with Grindr, or have text sex. Pretty much the only things we can’t do with online technology are exercise and go to the bathroom, but I’m sure someone is working on it.
Unlike the Dawson’s Creek gang, who worked phrases like “statute of limitations on mourning a break-up” into everyday conversation, these teens actually talk like teens, and this L.A. zip code isn’t populated by the sort of stereotypical archetypes that dominated The O.C. Liam is supposed to be the tortured, brooding hunk (see Dylan and The O.C.’s Ryan), but he isn’t just that.
Why do the major networks keep recycling the same dozen or so actors in bad shows? There are so many talented daytime soap stars dying to transition into prime-time TV. Film stars whose big-screen roles have begun to dry up, so TV is looking like a better option.
Abraham Lincoln is ready for his close-up. After years of starts and stops, and the coming and going of leading man Liam Neeson, who recently admitted that he probably is now too old for the part, director Steven Spielberg finally will bring Lincoln to the big screen.
