It appears Lindsay Lohan finds a similarity between herself and one or more blondes portrayed in Grand Theft Auto V. TMZ writes that LiLo is taking legal action over parts of the game that she feels appropriate her persona — quests like helping a starlet escape the paparazzi and photographing another starlet having sex at the Chateau Marmont. GTA V made $1 billion within its first three days in stores; I like to imagine that Lohan has a crack team of lawyers always watching out for opportunities like this.
Not only does Mario get to ditch the silly "Italian" voice for this new short film, he gets a whole gritty backstory that buries the Dennis Hopper movie under so much question-mark-brick rubble. And it's not just Mario! This clip is one of four, with Luigi as an addict and Peach and Toad forthcoming. Evan Daugherty, who penned Snow White and the Huntsman and the upcoming Divergent, wrote and directed. [h/t ComingSoon.net]
Maya Rudolph is coming back to NBC, and it's not to lend SNL a momentary famous black lady impression or to appear on a middling sitcom. It's to [OPRAH VOICE] HAVE HER OWN VARIETY SERIES! Or a pilot, at least. Lorne Michaels is producing, and Deadline hears the pilot will air as a special after the Olympics in February. I have no idea what a Maya Rudolph variety series on NBC prime time will look like, but let's assume there'll be impressions and an overall charming glow.
I've never been a white person for Halloween. Because I have no interest in ever being white, even for a costume party. And for me, there is a never-ending, exponentially growing supply of amazing black people to impersonate.
Last year, I was Madea. For an entire weekend, I proudly walked around New York City dressed as a gun-toting, "Hallelujer"-ing woman in a muumuu. And I'd do it 10 more times before it would ever occur to me that "maybe this is the year to be Ashton Kutcher as Steve Jobs."
Because it's just not happening.
There are some amazing white people, though. White people who, at times, I'm a little bummed I'll never portray for Halloween. I've been studying the Independence Day Jeff Goldblum "We just saved Earth, watch me stunt with this cigar until my girl jumps into my arms" strut for years. It'd be kind of nice to be him for Halloween. But then I think, why not let my boy Matt, a wonderfully Jewish fellow with similarly amazing dark hair, be Goldblum? I'm more than happy being Jaden's dad.
So I can understand why you, a white person, might want to be someone black for Halloween. I know what you're thinking: The only thing more fun and carefree than being black is being temporarily black.
Yesterday Buzzfeed reported that Laura Prepon, the owner of the most critically divisive eyebrows on Orange Is the New Black, was springing herself from women's prison, returning for the second season only long enough to close the arc of Piper's hot ex, Alex Vause. An hour and a half after the news had been posted (and commenters had roundly responded with frowny faces and hopes that she would stick around if offered more cash), Netflix called the story "not accurate." If she were leaving, it would be a strange choice: Vause is the best role she's played since That '70's Show's Donna Pinciotti, and OITNB one-upped Netflix originals House of Cards and Arrested Development (the reboot, that is) by getting renewed before it even debuted. Why risk losing that momentum?
This week we opened up the hermetically sealed doors of the HoodieDome and welcomed our first podcast guests, Jesse Cohen and Eric Emm of the band Tanlines, to talk about — what else? — Sex and the City. Specifically, we wanted to talk about the show's peculiar place in the Golden Age of Television (as defended by The New Yorker’s Emily Nussbaum a couple weeks ago) and the evolution of the flawed female protagonist since Carrie Bradshaw's tutus and Manolos first graced our screens, from Girls to Veep and Orange Is the New Black. Plus, we all make our picks for the best Golden Age TV antiheroines.
Appropriately, for a discussion of a show that is about hitting rock bottom and finding a way to thrive there, the Girls in Hoodies recorded this podcast from the plushly carpeted floor of the Grantland studio. Maybe it was our Pavlovian subconscious telling us that we were about to have some quality circle time or maybe do an improv game or two, but we don't plan on returning to furniture anytime soon. We'd all done varying levels of binges on Orange Is the New Black in preparation for this show, and were impressed and encouraged not only by the show's unconventional (read: diverse and heavily female) point of view and casting, but also by the enormous popularity of a show that a pay-cable network probably wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole. After singing the show's praises, we couldn't help but get into it with regard to the earworm-y Regina Spektor theme song, which got us thinking about the most and least effective opening sequences of some of our favorite shows. So sit down, get comfy, and join us for our casual, cross-legged sharing sesh. You've got time.
Today on the Girls in Hoodies podcast, Molly, Emily, and I talk about the greatness of Orange Is the New Black, which leads us, inevitably, to a discussion about opening credits. OITNB’s intro was not made with Netflix marathons in mind: fast-forwarding through it can seem like too much of a hassle (especially if you have Apple TV), so it’s best to leave the room for a snack during Episode 3 as you are urged to remember all their faces and remember all their voices yet again. The lyrics are applied literally, directly to the forehead like a smack; the sequence feels lengthy and on-the-nose, which is the opposite of what Orange Is the New Black can boast to be.
On this week's pod, Andy and I finally get around to the serious business of breaking down 2013's summer jams. It's been a long time coming … so long that summer is almost over. But when you hear our debate you'll understand why we've been dragging our feet. Other than the two pop disco kaiju that roam our land — "Blurred Lines" and "Get Lucky" — it's anyone's ballgame. So we looked to some slightly obscure corners for summer heat, tapping Chance The Rapper, Migos, Vampire Weekend, Superchunk, and Travi$ Scott as candidates for the president of let's get this party started. Most of the songs are on this playlist:
I hate the Netflix distribution model, and the way, every few weeks, it backs up the content truck at the stroke of midnight and offloads 13 hours of industrial-strength television. I've written at length about how this emphasis on quantity robs quality material of the time necessary to consider or even savor it, how it mutes the great beehive of conversation that has sprung up around TV in recent years and replaced it with the lonely, furtive clicks of a solitary remote control. We don't always eat for the sole purpose of getting full, and we shouldn't consume art that way, either. There's a reason you'd never order anything à la carte that can be found in an all-you-can-eat buffet.
But I'd be lying if I didn't say that Netflix, thus far, has chosen projects that actually benefit from bingeing. House of Cards had all of the weight of a great cable drama but almost none of the depth; it was probably better served as a lurid, late-night entertainment. Hemlock Grove was a quick genre cash-in, something mildly diverting and occasionally horrifying to slot between streams of An American Werewolf in London and Alvin and the Chipmunks Meet the Wolfman. And Arrested Development ... well, no one is more primed to stuff his face than a comedy nerd who's been starving for seven years. Even better, the all-at-once episode dump helped creator Mitch Hurwitz gin up an overlapping conceit that helped explain away the varying commitment levels of the cast and the middling humor in the scripts. It's always beneficial to tell someone you've disappointed that they just didn't understand the intent.
Paul Bettany is in talks for Showtime’s Masters of Sex, an adaptation of Thomas Maier's book Masters of Sex: The Life and Times of William Masters and Virginia Johnson, the Couple Who Taught America How to Love. Masters and Johnson were sixties pioneers in human sexuality research, and the show will follow their relationship as well as the cultural impact of their research. In the first episode, the origins and intricacies of the baseball/sex analogy are explored. Grade: B+ [Deadline]