Showbits

After seeing the brilliant Kevin Murphy subject himself to the face recognition software of MyHeritage.com, I decided to see which celebrities this online software would consider me to resemble:

For those of you drawing blanks, the above eight mugs belong to Howard Dean, Jude Law, Joe Montana, Julio Iglesias, Cab Calloway, Seann William Scott, Johnny Damon, and Steve Jobs. If you find these results questionable, know that, with a beard, I'm told to be akin to J.K. Rowling, Anna Paquin, Chow Yun-Fat, and Spike Lee. (In real life, I've been told I look like either Beck or Chevy Chase.)

Diverse and spurious choices, to be sure — I do not consider myself to have vaguely African features. Still, I think it's an improvement: the last time I tried this program in 2006, my matches were Vassily Ivanchuk and Ksawery Tartakower, both Russian chess players — not terribly flattering, but at least consistent.

Who do you look like?

The current buzz of the movie industry is Warner's decision to abandon the HD-DVD format in favor of Blu-Ray. That leaves almost no major studios supporting both formats, choosing one or the other exclusively. The only party left to get off the fence is us, the consumers.

I know competition is supposed to be good for business and that we always benefit from having a choice, but my limited experience suggests this high-definition trend just isn't catching on, unlike our last media storage generational leap. The move from VHS to DVD was dramatic, delivering improved audio and video, more content, and more control over how the movie is presented. I have not observed that either Blu-Ray or HD-DVD offer significant incentives in any of these three departments. The video quality of either compared to standard DVD is noticeable, but only to entertainment mavens whose budgets support the high-end, next-gen televisions necessary to take advantage of the player's capabilities. No other significant feature justifies the upgrade: Interactivity? Internet connectivity? This is a DVD player, not a game console! And appreciable differences between HD-DVD and Blu-Ray — well, nobody has demonstrated that to me yet.

What is a consumer to do while this format war is waged? We're already poor enough from the last decade. How many of us have already upgraded our VHS collections to DVD — or from DVD standard edition to DVD "collector's edition" (now with director commentary!)? I doubt I could restrain myself (or my budget) to be satisfied with standard definition if I knew I had a high-def player in the house. Do I therefore replace my highly functional 36" CRT, buy a $850 combination Blu-Ray/HD-DVD player, and begin replacing my hundreds of movies and TV shows at the cost of house and home?

Jeff Kleist suggest it's not really up to consumers to make such decisions; it's the retailers who hold the power, and they're likely to decide soon. That's fine for them. If not to decide is to decide, then I guess I've chosen my place on the fence. Though HD-DVD may go the way of the dodo, giving way for the superior species of Blu-Ray, we're farther still from the extinction of standard DVD. My DVD player turns ten years old this year and should continue to serve up new films for some time yet, and this old dinosaur is still an industry behemoth.

Christmas future is far away; Christmas past is past. Did everyone get what they wanted?

Whether you've a Christmas bonus to spend or you're planning for next year, consider this fun-filled potential stocking stuffer: infinite bubble wrap. I confess to being easily amused and unable to walk past bubble wrap without deflating its purpose… but this commercial suggests a cultural difference far beyond anything I've previously encountered. But hey — if popping plastic from dawn til dusk brings tears to your eyes, all the more power to you. I wish I could be so entertained for only 819 yen!

Tip of the hat to old friend AliTak!

Despite my geekiness and enthusiasm, I've never felt the motivation to pursue the objects of my affection by attending a convention. But when Super Megafest promised to deliver a bevy of cult icons to my backyard, Hiphopguy23 and I couldn't resist.

My past experience with conventions came at the now-defunct Electronic Entertainment Expo, a trade-only show of the gaming software industry. Those events spanned multiple football fields and were packed with blaring televisions, free giveaways, and celebrity promotions. There, simply by standing in line for an hour each, I'd gotten the signatures of such stars as John de Lancie, Nicole de Boer, Robin Shou, and Wayne Gretzky.

I'd fortunately not been to E3 for awhile, as otherwise those experiences may've made for even more unrealistic expectations of the Megafest. This primarily sci-fi convention filled a large hall at a Sheraton hotel, its adjoining corridor, and one nearby conference room. It was a good size that required at least an hour to take in, but it was not anywhere that one could get lost. The variety of unique and exclusive products could entrap a fan for hours with DVDs, toys, shirts, guitars, and especially comics — but Hiphopguy23 and I weren't there to spend money.

Unfortunately, expense was another area in which E3 and Super Megafest differed. Whereas celebrities were paid to endorse a vendor's products, here their sole purpose was to supply fans with autographs… and so those fans became their financial backers. A personalized glossy of Adam West went for $50; other actors' costs were more reasonable, but charged extra for a photo of the fan and star. Though as a convention newbie I accepted the reality of the arrangement without much distaste, I still had to wonder why an actor like Ray Park, who currently has five projects in production, would need this income.

I hope this observation does not reflect poorly on the actors, as I was honored to meet each and every one of them. Mr. Park kindly took the time to talk to me about his work on The Descendants, a series he hopes, but does not expect, to see available next year. He even did me the honor of a free photo.

Margot Kidder was similarly amicable. Though no star had a line longer than five minutes, I was disappointed to see her so underwhelmed with fans that she had time to be reading a book about the history of the CIA. So I chatted with her about Superman Returns. "I liked it, though I think it wasn't aimed at kids," she commented, "so I think they missed the mark in that regard. But I liked it." Another fan, looking at the glossies of her work on the Christopher Reeve films, asked if she missed those days. Her answer was either self-evident or profound, depending on the age of the audience: "I don't have to miss those days; I remember them."

But it was the two other stars who were the highlight of my day. I hadn't gone to the event wanting Helen Slater's autograph, but of all the actors at the show, she was the least what I expected. Whereas all the other actors have gotten older since their prime, this former Supergirl, now singer/songwriter, has hardly aged a day. I was surprisingly nervous to approach her, as the last woman to make me bashful, another female celebrity, was a very long time ago. Rather than a color photo of her in Kryptonian garb, I chose to have signed a black-and-white glossy of Ms. Slater as she is today. I almost can't stand to have it mounted on my wall, as she far outshines the others I keep there.

Just as powerful an addition to my collection (of both autographs and memories), but in a very different way, was Larry Storch. I grew up on the comedy of F-Troop, The Dick Van Dyke Show, Dobie Gillis, and others that were clean and funny, derived from true situational comedies. Nowadays, shows like Seinfeld are built on nonsense concepts with characters who are hateful, unrealistic, and insulting — but back when shows had theme songs with lyrics, the writing and acting were far cleverer. Larry Storch as Corporal Agarn was one of several people who exemplified for me the potential of acting and comedy, both of which I now pursue myself on theater stage. To shake his hand and tell him what he meant to me was a golden moment.

Hiphopguy23 did not get that chance with George "The Animal" Steele, who cancelled due to the popular affliction of wrestlers: poor health. But I think we both had a good time at our first such convention and considered every dollar well-spent at this one-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

[Hat tip to GeneD. for informing me of this event!]

[Editor's note: After seeing Jack Benny in It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World, I did an online search and found The Jack Benny Show Podcast (link opens in iTunes). I asked a Showbits reader and historian what he thought of this rebroadcast of the 1932 radio show; his response follows.]

I am also a fan of Jack Benny and am still slowly listening through the entire run of shows that are available. I'm up to the fall of 1950, and the last show on radio was the May 22, 1955 show, before he went entirely to television. Most of them are fun to listen to, and I've certainly become a fan of the show.

The first shows are very different from the formula that he settled upon by the early 1940s, and which he continued until the end of the radio series. Also, the quality of the early shows leaves a LOT to be desired. I didn't try downloading the first podcast to see if this guy cleaned the episodes up at all, but some of them are almost unlistenable they are so bad. Not surprising, however, when you consider that what episodes we have prior to 1939 or 1940 were all recorded on home aluminum disk recorders, rather than on something better quality. Broadcasting companies didn't even feel that recording programs was of any value until the mid-1940s, and it wasn't until the late 1940s that any programs said that they were "transcribed" (recorded); almost everything on the radio was live, and any recordings that existed were done from a radio receiver.

Jack's early shows are reminiscent of the talk show format, where he did some topical humor, almost a monologue like Carson or Leno or Letterman might do today, with some skit thrown in later, and a musical number or two from the ever-present house band. With time he added cast members: Mary Livingston, his wife, was one of the first, then Don Wilson the announcer, then the band leader Phil Harris (later Bob Crosby, Bing's brother), and a tenor to sing a number during the show (first Kenny Baker and then Dennis Day). Rochester, whose real name (Eddie Anderson) was never used on the program as far as I know, came on playing bit parts in the late 1930s, and was so popular that he was added as a regular cast member and even got billing at the start of the show by the early 1940s.

As for the copyright: Apparently, due to changes in the copyright law in the mid 1970s, unless specific actions were taken to copyright a radio program, almost none of them fall under any protection today. Consequently, even shows as late as the CBS Radio Mystery Theater, which aired during the 1970s, are considered today to be in the public domain. As a result, there are thousands of radio programs out there that can be downloaded either for free or for a nominal fee, depending on the host from which they can be downloaded. There are some serious collectors and preservationists out there who offer programs that have been digitized from very good early generation recordings and have also been cleaned up; these are, of course, more expensive (as usual, you get what you pay for).

Some of the best programs I have listened to in the old time radio (OTR) realm are the dramas Escape and Suspense, which did mystery or adventure dramatizations of written short stories of the day. Also some early radio sci-fi like Dimension X and X Minus One have done radio versions of stories by Ray Bradbury, Robert Heinlein, and Isaac Asimov.

Hiphopguy23 saw Becoming Jane in the movie theater last week. There were many scenes where the life of Jane Austen could've used more imagination.

Is it wrong to imagine there is a rogue climbing the wall of the ivy-covered castle?

Or to picture a hired assassin blending into the background during the royal ball?

Or to make believe when a couple goes for a romantic walk in the woods that a group of elves is hiding in the brush, waiting to ambush them?

Or before the couple lean in for their first kiss, to imagine a renegade barbarian unsheathing his bastard sword out of jealousy?

Hiphopguy23 is just wondering if these thoughts are normal.

I haven't posted a video in awhile, so to kick off the weekend, return with now me to 1993 and the debut of the "Got Milk?" ad campaign with this hilarious, award-winning commercial:

Potentially working as an extra on Indiana Jones 4 later this month has me thinking about my two previous experiences in that capacity.

The first was Fever Pitch, the 2005 film starring Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore. Several scenes were shot in Fenway Park, a small section of which Boston Casting filled with paid extras. Not the whole stadium, though; in any sufficiently wide-angled shot, if you look far enough back, you'll notice none of the fans are moving. That's because they don't have legs. To save money on actual extras, inflatable dummies often fill in the seats that no one will notice beyond whether or not they're occupied.

It took a long time to set up each shot, what with lighting, makeup, cameras, and conferrals among the production crew. Every scene had to be filmed multiple times from multiple angles, so the extras huddled under their jackets, waiting for the call to "Action!" before shedding their covers and acting warm until "Cut!" signified it was safe to warm up again while the crew reviewed the recent footage and prepared for more. No noise was permitted; we mimed our actions, with cheers or catcalls (which may otherwise drown out the main characters' dialogue) dubbed in later. I didn't see Drew Barrymore, but Jimmy Fallon seemed happy to be surrounded by fans. We kept him company that September night from 6 PM to 6 AM — probably the first all-nighter I've ever pulled. (Driving home, I noticed my framerate had dropped considerably.) But it was all worth it:

Click for larger image.
The other movie I've worked on was The Game Plan, starring Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. I worked as a sideline photographer at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro and again at Fitton Field at Holy Cross in Worcester. Each required showing up at 4 AM, which meant rolling out of bed at 2 AM. It was wet and dreary that October, and though I was spared the false enthusiasm of pretending to be a fan in the bleachers, I wasn't able to remain seated like they were, which was exhausting. Hundreds of extras reneged, to the point that Boston Casting desperately offered iPod raffles as an incentive for people to show up. I don't know if I'll be visible when the film hits theaters in September, but, as with Fever Pitch (which I've never actually watched, except for my scenes), the DVD will likely prove more enlightening.Long hours, crappy food, and minimum wage — I'd decided additional extra work would give me insufficient compensation to warrant pursuing further opportunities; they'd just be redundant on my resume, anyway. But, unlike Sean Connery, for Indiana Jones, I'll come out of retirement.