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March 2007
Your Humble “Tudors” Tutor Checks In…
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Clearly, I wouldn’t have made a good Tudor. I cannot tell a lie.
There are 10 episodes in “The Tudors,” Showtime’s visually gorgeous, action-packed series about the young King Henry VIII and his lusty, conniving “Peyton Place”-like court.
Showtime made the first six hourlong episodes available to critics. I watched three.
I simply was too exhausted to go on.
Episode One starts with a bloody murder. Next comes the decision by one of the early 16th-century world’s superpowers to go to war against a rival superpower. Then Henry (a determinedly vital Jonathan Rhys Meyers) romps around the bedchamber with a woman who not only isn’t his wife. Lady Elizabeth Blount (Ruta Gedmintas) also is no lady, if her cuckolded husband and the many “this is premium cable” shots of her bare breasts are any indication.
All this occurs within the first six minutes. What, pray tell, will they come up with for the next 594?
Plenty, it seems. Which is what “The Tudors” has working for it, and against it. There’s a guilty-pleasure tingle that comes from watching this attempt to let a little air into the creaky old Henry VIII legend via colorful scenes of jousting tournaments, and an elaborate treaty-signing ceremony where wine spouts from the castle walls and two crowned heads of state engage in a shirts-off wrestling match. Then there are such noble-meets-nefarious characters as the quietly backstabbing Cardinal Who Would Be Pope Thomas Wolsey (Sam Neill) and Sir Thomas Boleyn (Nick Dunning), who tries to redraw the palace depth chart by pimping out his daughter, Anne, to the married king.
But the downside to this constant, albeit beautifully staged barrage of plots, subplots and characters is that it’s easy to confuse your Dukes of Norfolk and Buckingham, your Kings of France and Spain. At least The Man’s still only got the one wife at this point, the older, stolid Katherine of Aragon (Maria Doyle Kennedy). But their toddler daughter, Mary, is herself promised in marriage to two different monarchs as political alliances shift in these early episodes.
By Episode 3, when Henry ping-pongs between ordering up an invasion and a new warship, indulging in some archery practice, and dispatching Sir Thomas More (Jeremy Northam) to burn every book by that “heretic” Martin Luther, viewers might feel the urge to consult Ye Olde CliffsNotes to “The Tudors.” Including its woefully needed chapter on Putting Things in Context.
“My Henry is new,” Michael Hirst, the creator/writer/executive producer of “The Tudors’” says in his press notes. “He’s never been portrayed this way.”
Problem is, “The Tudors” goes off in too many ways all at once. Hirst is correct when he says that the standard TV and movie portrait of Henry VIII — gluttonous, hirsute and all “off with her head”-y when it came to his six wives — is too one-dimensional and played out. The young Henry who ascended to the throne at 18 was learned, athletic and the pre-Elizabethan equivalent of a rock star, says star Rhys Meyers.
“Anybody who’s been ordained by God and who owns their own country has a certain amount of arrogance,” Rhys Meyers says of the monarch who is 29 when “The Tudors” begins and ages approximately one year per episode. “He’s intellectual and he’s zealous. But he’s also aggressive and insecure, vulnerable — all those things.”
Maybe that’s why he comes off in these first few episodes as an intermittently intriguing circa-1520 cross between a multitasking CEO and an overgrown rich kid with too many toys and not enough Ritalin. Henry moves everywhere at warp speed and he never dallies long; after spending just over a minute making the case for war against France to his counsellors in Sunday’s opening episode, he declares, “Now I can go play,” and heads off in search of God knows what pleasure.
Motivations, too, are shadowy and confusingly shifting. One moment, Henry suggests war is necessary to check France’s dangerous ambition. A little later he dreamily tells More he wants to be remembered like Henry V, whose defeat of the French at Agincourt “made him famous … it made him immortal.”
Those two impetuses aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive — just as Wolsey could be simultaneously serving two gods (doing what’s best for England and his own church career) with his furtive foreign policy meddling. But “The Tudors” is so busy being beautifully busy, it doesn’t take time in these crucial early episodes to connect the dots that could expose and illuminate the complex personalities nestled inside the larger-than-life personas.
Watching “The Tudors” is, one suspects, a lot like what it must have been like to move in young King Henry VIII’s circle. Both are wildly ambitious, fast-paced and fascinating to look at. You feel like you’re supposed to like them more than you really do. Still, you never know what either one will get up to next, so when Episode 4 airs next month, I’ll be ready to resume watching.
Until then, quoth the rock star king: I can go play.
“The Tudors” 10 p.m. Sundays on Showtime Grade: B-
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The Perils of Paulina
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
So it came down to the former Miss USA and the former supermodel.
For once, being pretty wasn’t enough.
No evil snickering here (well, not much), because in the Serf’s humble opinion, America picked the wrong pretty girl to send home Tuesday night on “Dancing with the Stars.” Former model Paulina Porizkova showed a surprsingly fun sense of humor and grace on and off the dance floor, especially when she found out she was joining DWTS’s unenviable “First to Go” club.
“My family was my fan base,” said the Czech beauty, who’s married to ex-“Cars” genius Ric Ocasek. “They weren’t extensive enough.”
Barely escaping the knife of public censure was Shandi Finnessey, Miss USA 2004 and a current GSN hostess (that’s the onetime Game Show Network, in case you didn’t know. And if you did … why?)
Billy Ray Cyrus and Clyde Drexler both overcame their natural handicaps to stay around to mambo for another week. Clyde’s about 12 feet taller than his partner, Billy Ray is a better singer than dancer. So you know what that means. But that’s also good news, since both men are trying their tight breech-ed butts off and are entertaining as heck.
But nothing was as entertaining as a new feature introduced during Tuesday’s results show: In “Dance Along at Home with Jimmy Kimmel,” the late-night talk show host, along with his “parking lot security guard, Guillermo” we learned how to tango. Here’s how: Whatever Jimmy and Guillermo do, don’t. Apparently this hjilarious little bit (which the Serf confidently predicts will be on YouTube by the time she’s finished looking up the correct spelling of “Shandi Finnessey) will be a weekly feature.
Finally, we’ll get to see Jimmy Kimmel in Atlanta. Nobody tell WSB-TV, OK?
The Dirty “Dancing” Details
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
It was Heather Mills in a walkover.
No, “Dancing With The Stars” didn’t crown the future-former-Mrs. Cutest Beatle champion Monday night. But Mills’s pretty much put to rest any of those lingering questions about possible fallout (aesthetic and literal) from her prosthetic leg. Early on in their mambo routine, Mills splayed herself across partner Jonathan Roberts’s knee and, legs extended sky-high, proceeded to do a BACK WALKOVER!
Leg still on. Case closed. And good enough for the 3rd best score of the night out of 11 couples. The only woman who performed better was Laila Ali, the world middleweight boxing champ whose fast-shaking hips clearly should be registered as a lethal weapon.
ABC has been tugging on viewers’ heartstrings relentlessly when it comes to Mills’s undeniable courage. Monday’s two-hour show featured footage of the “charity campaigner” (as she’s introduced) appearing with her partner at a fundraising event for children and at least one commercial plug for an upcoming “Good Morning America” segment on how Mills’ “Dancing” role (two whole nights so far) is inspiring other dancers with disabilities. Having seen the impact on the judges and — if ABC is to be believed — all of America, you have to wonder if some of her fellow celebrity dancers have taken note and decided they’re not above a little heartstring-tugging themselves.
Why else did birthday girl Leeza Gibbons announce “I want to be fearless at 50” (she even produced a button bearing that catchphrase; how soon before we can buy one online?). Ian Ziering publicly dedicated his Quick Step to his deceased mother (fortunately, he did her proud) and Billy Ray Cyrus made HIS routine an homage to Johnny Cash — right down to the music (“Ring of Fire”) and the lone guitar sitting at center stage.
The judges pronounced Billy Ray “Most Improved” and judging by the prolonged cheers, he’s an audience favorite. Maybe those slick Hollywood crowds appreciate his aw-shucks Kentucky attitude — In a clip from rehearsals this week, he mournfully proclaimed about the Quick Step, “It’s almost against the laws of nature.” Billy Ray still got one of the lower scores of the night, but considering how much viewer votes count on this show, it’s becoming increasingly clear he knows exactly what he’s doing out there. The good ole boy is crazy like a fox with two left feet.
Tuesday night will see the first celebrity eliminated during the live show at 9 p.m. If Billy Ray’s low judges scores don’t do him in, I predict either Clyde Drexler or — yawn — Miss USA 2004 Shandi Finnessey will get the old heave-ho. Don’t let me influence your votes, folks, but let’s just say that there’s a reason Ms. Finnessey danced in a spangly bikini top. All that was missing was her sash and tiara. And much of anything covering her bottom. And, uh, talent.
Here’s my early favorites to take the overall crown in a sort-of/but don’t hold me to it order: Laila “Hips Don’t Lie” Ali; Apollo Anton “Oh Yes!” Ohno; Heather “Who You Callin’ ‘Yoko’?” Mills; and Joey “Joey!” Fantone.
Meanwhile, Tuesday night’s show features a veritable Walk of Shame to go with all those dancing clips. A segment called “First to Go” will feature interviews with the first celebs eliminated in the previous three editions of “Dancing” — Trista Sutter, Kenny Mayne and Tucker Carlson.
If only they’d worn spangly bikini tops…
Messing with the Masters?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Remember all the hue and cry a few years ago when Atlanta’s own Ted Turner wanted to colorize some classic old black-and-white films? Well, now the issue has reared its little technicolor head again here in Georgia. And the revered footage in this case involves — brace yourselves, children — the Masters.
Way, way back in 1960, Arnold Palmer birdied the final two holes on Sunday at Augusta National to snatch the green jacket away from Ken Venturi by one stroke. Ardent golf fans know all about that dramatic finish, but it’s never been re-shown on TV. Until now.
On April 8 (aka this year’s Masters Sunday), CBS will air “Jim Nantz Remembers: The 1960 Masters,” at 1:30 p.m. Obviously, we won’t get to see the whole thing all over again — the durn show’s only an hour long, after all — but there will be an interview with Palmer as he watches the broadcast for the first time and recalls all the details of snatching victory from the jaws of Amen Corner.
But wait, there’s more! Unwilling to leave good enough alone, Jim Nantz Productions (working with Legend Films) has colorized the original black-and-white footage of the live event. We’re told by CBS that this represents the first time in TV history that a sporting event that originally aired live in black-and-white has been rebroadcast in color. Ain’t technology grand?
But considering how many folks don’t want anything involving Augusta National to change, ever, (two words: pimiento cheese) one wonders if they’ll take kindly to the carpetbaggers, er, the good folks at CBS and Jim Nantz Productions messing with sacred old footage.
It comes down to this: Tradition? Or the azaleas (not to mention the plaid golf pants) in full technicolor bloom? The Serf is going to say that anything that brings more color to Augusta National is OK by her, and leave it at that.
Save Billy Ray!
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
The numbers are in and Monday night’s premiere of “Dancing With the Stars” attracted a whopping 21.65 million viewers. By its last half-hour, it was up to 23 million, many of them undoubtedly waiting for the performance of prosthetic leg-using, Paul McCartney-fleecing (or not, divorce is so ugly) Heather Mills.
Unless there’s another reason viewership kept growing:
We all were hoping Billy Ray Cyrus would do an encore.
Oh, man, how bad was he? I didn’t think anything could ever make me want to stick hot knitting needles through my eyeballs as much as hearing “Achy Breaky Heart” played on an endless loop one long hot summer … But then Cyrus himself did a cha-cha-cha that was such a nah-nah-nah (“It was like a crazy bear lost in a swamp,” judge Bruno Tonioli yelped in pain afterwards) that his “Achy Breaky Heart” seemed like a Bach sonata by comparison.
And yet, I loved it. Every last third grade dance class moment of it: The way Cyrus kept looking at his feet and moving his lips (was he keeping time? reminding himself to buy butter and paper towels on the way home?) while partner Karina Smith did all the work. The Breck Girl ‘do that made the Kentucky-born singer look like he borrows cream rinse and bobby pins from his daughter, “Hannah Montana” star Miley Cyrus, who we saw cheering him on from the audience. And best of all, the fact that he “danced” to “I Want My Mullet Back,” and then ripped a faux mullet (fauxmet?) off of Smith’s head as she went down in a split for the big finish. It only took him three tries to get it off.
The Fauxmet Moment was, of course, an homage to Cyrus’s signature hairdo back in his Achy Breaky days. Homage, is of course, French for “crass marketing ploy.” Soon after the three judge panel gave the duo what Smith suggested was the lowest “Dancing” score ever, Cyrus said he was disappointed only that “they forget to mention ‘I Want My Mullet Back’ is off my new album and is also available on ringtones.” Wisecracked host Tom Bergeron, “That’s how you turn a bad score into a good plug.”
Speaking of plugs, what will we do if they take Billy Ray and his hair away from us? So what if he can’t dance? Would you rather spend the next couple of months watching — snore — Leeza Gibbons and John Ratzenberger politely plie their way across the stage?
SAVE BILLY RAY! If you haven’t already voted for him, shame on you. If he gets booted in the first round, call ABC and threaten to invade their studios and glue fake mullets onto every one of the “Desperate Housewives” heads. If we all band together we can keep him and his fabulously entertaining persona around for weeks to come.
“Persona.” That’s French for more fun than a barrel of crazy bears lost in the swamp.
SAVE BILLY RAY!!!
Who’s the Boss?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Didja hear, didja hear?! Simon Cowell’s on “60 Minutes” this Sunday!
No, he’s not going to make Andy Rooney warble “Hips Don’t Lie” and then snarl, “Find another career before it’s too late, kid.” He’s being profiled by Anderson Cooper, who moonlights for “60 Minutes” from his day-and-night job on CNN.
Speaking of moonlighting, the fact that the Serf is writing about this, instead of nonstop “Idol” blogger Rodney Ho, has nothing to do with her attempt to shamelessly draft off of the incredible popularity of that blog and the show it covers. The Serf is no “Till Death” or “Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?” She’s no smarter than a third grader, and darned proud of it.
No, the reason you’re reading this here is because Cowell makes Major TV News Sunday. Emboldened, perhaps, by his regular skirmishes with Ryan Seacrest, he sends out a verbal smackdown to — brace yourselves — THE American Idol himself.
“I sell more records than Bruce Springsteen,” Cowell, who shares a record label (Sony BMG) with The Boss, tells Cooper. “In the last five years, I’ve probably sold over 100 million records. If [Springsteen] got 100 [million dollars, reportedly the size of Springsteen’s current contract], I should have got 500.”
Ouch! That’s not Cowell singing on “Since You’ve Been Gone” or “Jesus Take the Wheel.” Still, he claims he can claim over 100 million records sold because “I signed the biggest artist on the planet and it’s called ‘Idol,’ because every single ‘Idol’ winner is now sold through Sony BMG.”
Having towered over, er, stood next to Cowell at a party in L.A. last year, the Serf is pretty sure Springsteen could take him in a fight. But is Cowell bigger than him artistically and financially-speaking?
Don’t know. But I am pretty sure we won’t be seeing “Bruce Springsteen Night” on “American Idol” anytime soon.
Polishing the Family Jewels
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Yes, but can they lift someone ELSE’S face onto his?
A&E (aka the Arts & Entertainment channel, which clearly has forgotten all about the “Art” part by now) has an eyebrow-raising (literally) plot line in store for the second season of “Gene Simmons Family Jewels.” If you watched Season 1, you know that much of the show’s alleged comedic tension revolved around the non-marriage of ex-KISS rocker Simmons and his live-in love of over 20 years, former Playboy pin up girl Shannon Tweed. The duo have two teen-aged kids, and frankly, everyone’s remarkably well-adjusted, especially considering …
Which is great for America, but not so great for making compelling television. So when Season 2 starts on March 25, the unorthodox family will undergo not one, but two facelifts. Both Tweed and Simmons will have their KISS-ers cute-ified and, A&E trumpets, “for the first time ever, a celebrity couple allows cameras inside the operating room.”
We’ll also get to see the aftermath. Which, considering what a shocker it was when Simmons scrubbed off all his KISS facepaint and revealed the rather pudgy, averge Joe mug underneath, might be a good thing. Tweed is still stunning looking, so we can only assume she went along for the same reason she posed for Playboy and agreed to allow TV cameras to follow her and her poor kids around for months on end.
Because it’s “Art.” Yeah, that’s it.
Fatal Bus Crash, Take Two
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
CNN will use a bus and helicopter to reenact last week’s tragic road trip that ended with six people — including four members of the Bluffton University baseball team — dying in a horrific accident on I-75 here.
It’s all part of “Fatal Journey,” a one-hour investigative documentary airing Saturday at 8 and 11 p.m. (repeating at those times Sunday). Correspondent Drew Griffin and the rest of CNN’s investigative unit will look more closely at the accident as well as examine the question of whether highway safety “is being compromised by the urgent need for more highway capacity in America’s growing cities.”
The program will also include interviews with survivors of the crash, transportation authorities, traffic experts, rescue workers and the family of one of the players who died in the crash.
Star (Navel) Gazing Is Back!
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Girlfriend is back!
With her own daily TV show. And — shockingly — it’s not all about her wedding!
Court TV announced Wednesday that the lately de-“Viewed” Star Jones Reynolds is joining the cable channel as executive editor and host of a daytime talk show. Airing live, the new show from the channel that’s now part of the (gulp) Turner Entertainment Network has no official start date yet (“Sometime later this year,” Court TV says with a restraint rarely associated with the daytime home of Nancy Grace and other verbal -bullet-between-the-eyes yakkers). But we do know that Star will cover legal cases and issues on the show, plus — oh, joy! — “stories from the news and pop culture arenas.”
You know what that means — whatever they’re talking about over on “The View,” she’ll say the opposite. Let the cross-channel verbal smackdowns and getting-even by stealing each other’s guests, staff and ideas begin! (And don’t give us any of that namby-pamby psychobabble from the press release about how “Reynolds will empower viewers by asking the questions everyone wants to ask … blah, blah, blah. The only questions we want answered are,”Why did you REALLY leave ‘The View,’” “Who deserves each other more, Barbara or the Donald,” and “Dark alley, fistfight, you or Rosie?”)
The show doesn’t have a name yet either. How about, “This Cable Channel Ain’t Big Enough for Me and Nancy.” The Serf can’t wait to order the T-shirt!
Pussycat Doll wannabes
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Don’t cha wish your job was hot like mine?
You open the mail and find — omigod, omiGOD! — the first two episodes of the new reality series “Pussycat Dolls Present the Search for the Next Pussycat Doll.” With, like, a letter. Only better, ‘cuz there’s hardly anything to read.
Just a quote about why it rocks to be in “PCD” (initials fit sooo much better on their teeny tops) from founder Robin Antin: “There’s nothing slutty, there’s nothing skanky about it … every girl in the world wants to do it.”
Yuh-huh. There was even a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt — something about doing what feels right. Whatever. That girl totally gets it. Not like certain (probably not hot) reporters who, hearing PCD described as “empowering” at a recent CW press conference, were all like, “How can you say that about women who prance around in go-go boots and shorty-shorts singing, ‘Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me/Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?’ “
Sigh. Don’t they know profound when they hear it? Fortunately, there’s way more profundity in these initial episodes. Interspersed, like, between the frequent high-pitched squeals:
“I think the Pussycat Dolls have had a large influence on my generation.” — Natascha, 19, New York City, one of 18 semifinalists seen tonight learning the Dolls’ patented provocative right buttock slap, the lyrics to “Buttons” (“I’m a sexy mama/just tryin’t get what I wanna”) and — in two cases — throwing up.
“When I was younger, I had so many people who didn’t believe in me. … I want all those people to just feel awful when I make it.” — Shauntae, 21, Minneapolis, on why it’s her dream to join PCD.
“Performing is my favorite thing, like, ever. I would love to share my talents with the world.” — Anjelia, 20, Toms River, N.J., who then shares her talent for saying “Pussycat Dolls” in loud burps.
“You are now officially in Pussycat Doll boot camp. Toughen up!” — Robin Antin in Episode 2, welcoming the nine finalists to the group house, tricked out with pink shag carpeting, heart-shaped mirrors and a silver throne where they conduct interviews.
“I didn’t even shave my legs!” — Sisely, 25, Los Angeles, when Antin tells the finalists that dancing in skimpy lingerie in lighted boxes on the wall of a crowded restaurant is a way to “show off your confidence.”
“That girl’s got booty for days.” — Mariela, 24, Miami, assessing a fellow contestant’s, uh, “confidence.”
“They’ve just gotta go all out, that’s the bottom line. You only get one chance to blow!” — Lil’ Kim, Grammy-winning rap artist who spent a year in prison for conspiracy and perjury. Now getting a second chance as a “Search for the Next Doll” judge.
ON TV: “Pussycat Dolls Present the Search for the Next Pussycat Doll,” 9 p.m. Tuesday, CW.
