Last year I wrote some predictions for what would happen in 2003. For the most part, I was way off base. But a couple of them came very close to happening. Below, find out how I did and what I’m prognosticating for next year:
“Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez will be wed and the marriage will last the year. The relationship will be strained, however, when, after a drunken consolation fuck in the coat room of the wedding chapel, Gwyneth and P. Diddy are married in a lavish ceremony and declared the Celebrity Couple of the Millennium by US Weekly.”
-Okay, so they never did get married. But Gwynnie married Chris Martin, which is a whole lot better than Puffy, so that’s a pleasant surprise. Also, Ben apparently bought a truck. In know because it was the top headline at EW.com.
“The Matrix sequels will be huge hits. The third film, however, will be an artistic disappointment due to the large amounts of screen time given to the Ookies, a band of furry, diminutive cyber hackers who look like teddy bears and speak only in emoticons.”
-So, no Ookies in the thrird movie, but it was an artistic disappointment. If, by artistic disappointment you mean huge pile of crap
“Vin Diesel and Mariah Carey will meet at a film premiere, fall madly in love and begin production of a brood of dubiously talented, racially ambiguous children.”
-This one I’m holding over for ’04. I still think it is inevitable.
“War in Iraq will be averted when Carl Rove informs the President that the only country voters in Michigan hate more than Iraq is Monaco. Prince Rainier surrenders in 45 minutes.”
- If only.
“Anne Heche will finally discover Scientology.”
- Didn’t hear much about Anne this year. And people are saying 2003 sucked.
“EW Reporter Jessica Shaw will be stoned to death by a group of rabid internet fans when she declares Kiefer Sutherland ‘Five Minutes Ago’.”
- Again, if only.
“Tobey Maguire will bow out of Spider Man 2. Jake Gyllenhaal will step in. No one will notice.”
-So close.
“NBC will offer an unprecedented billion dollars and controlling interest in Jay Leno's soul to the cast of Friends to ensure an 11th season. Schwimmer will hold out for more money.”
- It could have happened. In fact, it probably did.
“In the last episode of Oz, millions of fans will rejoice when Beecher and Keller are released from jail, move to Vermont, get married, and open a shop selling specialty jams and jellies.”
-I wish because that last episode sucked.
“After winning Oscars for both Supporting and Lead Actress in the same year, Julianne Moore will alienate much of Hollywood when her second acceptance speech consists solely of the words ‘Suck it, Streep.’”
-This was the one I most wanted to come true. Julianne deserved the award. Scott still can’t talk about it.
“Fox's third entry in the Celebrity Boxing series will be cancelled after Urkel is knocked unconscious by Rerun from What's Happening and Bill O'Reilly bites off Phil Donahue's ear.”
- Well, we lost Fred “Rerun” Barry this year. But Bill O’Reilly did go bonkers and file what may be the funniest copyright infringement suit in history against Al Franken.
“Even though the series has been cancelled, Robert Wuhl will continue to produce episodes on Arli$$ in his den. It will still suck.”
-There are few constants in this world but one is that even in cancellation, Arli$$ still sucks.
“Creatively tapped after the cancellation of girls club, David E. Kelley will convince Greg Germann, Jane Krakowski and Vonda Shepherd to star in AfterAlly. Fox will cancel it halfway through the first episode in favor of a special entitled World's Wackiest Coast Guard Seizures.”
-Actually, AfterAlly sounds better than the Brotherhood of Poland, New Hampshire.
“Avril Lavigne will mysteriously disappear while on a rafting trip with Alanis Morissette and Fiona Apple. No charges will be filed.”
-Damn!
“In February, the NBC promo department will be thrown into chaos when nothing happens in the last five minutes of ER.”
-I wouldn’t know as ER is dead to me.
“And finally, Christina Aguilera will finally make her feature film debut in ‘Latin Gangbang Sluts #38’”
-No, but she did make out with Madonna and throw a hissyfit when no one talked about it, so that’s about the same thing.
Predictions for 2004:
The crisis in the Middle East may finally be solved when a workable plan is offered by the most unlikely person -- Jessica Simpson -- who turns out to have a savant-like grasp of geo-politcal issues.
Desperate to cash in on their successful franchise, New Line will commision scripts for Gimli & Legolas: The Adventure Continues, TV series Eowynn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan and a lavish broadway spectacular called, simply, Gollum!
On April 6, the last holdout, Jerry Thorndike of Lawrence, Kansas, will finally be as sick of the Osbournes as the rest of us.
Fans will be thrown into chaos and annoyance when the fifth season of The Sopronos introduces a never-before-seen third child of Tony and Carmella that all the characters seem to think has always existed. The character, Aurora, will be played by Hallie Kate Eisenberg.
50 Cent will once again be shot in the face. No one will notice.
Sean “Puffy” Combs will continue to think he is relevant in the entertainment industry. The entertainment industry will smile patiently and wait for him to get the hint.
Every single review of Jersey Girl will contain the phrase “Well, at least it’s not Gigli”.
In August, after months of anticipation, the hype for the second season Queer Eye for the Straight Guy will finally block out the sun. Kyan will recommend a good tanning salon.
After months of build-up, Days of Our Lives Serial Killer will be revealed to be popular 80’s ditz Calliope, played by Arleen Sorkin.
The US audience will finally “get” Robbie Williams and he become a huge star in this country. Morrissey will be very pissed.
And finally, after confusing Tony Blair and song and dance man Tommy Tune and referring to the city of San Francisco as “that place with the homos” in the second debate, George W. Bush will be roundly defeated in the general election. All hail President John Cusack.
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Friday, October 31, 2003
Okay Frons, this is War
I’m feeling very Howard Beale today. ABC Daytime has done the single most reprehensible thing I have ever witnessed in my 25 years of avidly following soap operas. Anna Lee, the venerable 90-year-old actress, who has played General Hospital's town matriarch Lila Quartermaine since 1978, has been fired. In what is apparently a cost-cutting measure, her contract has not been renewed. While the network promises us that she will appear in a recurring capacity, that means they only have to pay her when she appears. And there is no guarantee that she will appear. Making this all the more egregious is the fact that former Executive producer, Wendy Riche, once promised the actress that she had a lifetime contract with ABC.
Well, apparently, that lifetime has gone on longer than is profitable, so they are reneging on Riche’s statement (which was, of course, unofficial). Their behavior is despicable. Yes, Ms. Lee is in a wheelchair, she’s 90, so she’s not going to be driving front burner romance. But her presence is vital for the show, especially this show, because she brings warmth and a sense of family. And family, not romance, is what this genre is really about. For a show which has spent the last year showing a pregnant woman locked in a panic room by her deranged brother-in-law, then having the same woman shot in the head while delivering her baby (!), not to mention her sister in law miscarrying them hitting another woman with a car, perhaps a little warmth and familial humor shouldn’t be discounted. Lila Quartermaine is the calming presence, the one character everyone loves. And no small part of that is because the audience cares for Anna Lee so much. The woman was a nun in Sound of Music for god sakes.
Ever since Brian Frons took over as head of ABC Daytime, he has made or okay’s one bonehead move after another. The rape of Bianca and the endless and pointless “Sexiest Man” Contest on AMC, the Nathaniel Marston “he’s fired, he’s hired, he’s a ghost” and the decimation of the Holden and Gannon families on OLTL, Port Charles’ cancellation and the continued descent into brutality, misogyny and gunfire that is GH are all the hallmarks of Frons.
I understand that soaps need to cut costs in today’s economy. I understand that ratings are down and the market is crowded with other daytime fare. But firing a 90-year-old woman is not going to save that much money. My guess is the firearm budget alone could support Ms. Lee at the style to which she has become accustomed. Also, I know that there is an air of recklessness on all the soaps. Serial killers are moving in on Salem and Llanview, half the black population of Oakdale has left town or died and there is an ominous dread coming out of Pine Valley right now. But GH already fired Rachel Ames, whose Audrey hardy had been on the show since 1964, making her the closest thing the show has to an original cast member). Ms. Ames’ firing was deplorable and showed a lack of respect for any sense of history. But Anna Lee’s firing shows a complete lack of decency.
And somebody better let Eisner know that ABC is now the network known for firing little old ladies in wheelchairs.
Look, I’m a writer. In fact I want to write soap operas, so I understand that sometimes for the sake of the story, an actor is sacrificed. That’s why I’m not screaming about the massacre at Days right now. (Although I reserve the right to do so.) But this was clearly a business decision. And it’s a business decision that shows just how little the executives care about what fans want or even their own employees. I seriously doubt that the GH set is a very fun place to be right now.
I’m pissed. I want more people to get pissed. This action is unacceptable and I think it’s time for fans to take a stand. At the end of the day, these shows belong to us, not them. We’ve been watching them longer than Brian Frons and we know more about the show than Jill Farren Phelps. We want our stars treated well, especially as they get older, and we want them run not like businesses, but creative endeavors. Anna Lee should be getting a paycheck every week, she’s earned it. And we should be getting better shows with the actors we want to see. If they want to run everything exactly like a business, then that’s their right. I would just like to remind Mr. Frons and his dimwitted cronies, that in business, in the end, it’s all about the consumer. And the consumer is always right.
For information, to sign the petition or just to read about one of Daytimes Grande Dames, check out Anna Lee’s site. The best way to show your support is to write a letter to her care of ABC.
Well, apparently, that lifetime has gone on longer than is profitable, so they are reneging on Riche’s statement (which was, of course, unofficial). Their behavior is despicable. Yes, Ms. Lee is in a wheelchair, she’s 90, so she’s not going to be driving front burner romance. But her presence is vital for the show, especially this show, because she brings warmth and a sense of family. And family, not romance, is what this genre is really about. For a show which has spent the last year showing a pregnant woman locked in a panic room by her deranged brother-in-law, then having the same woman shot in the head while delivering her baby (!), not to mention her sister in law miscarrying them hitting another woman with a car, perhaps a little warmth and familial humor shouldn’t be discounted. Lila Quartermaine is the calming presence, the one character everyone loves. And no small part of that is because the audience cares for Anna Lee so much. The woman was a nun in Sound of Music for god sakes.
Ever since Brian Frons took over as head of ABC Daytime, he has made or okay’s one bonehead move after another. The rape of Bianca and the endless and pointless “Sexiest Man” Contest on AMC, the Nathaniel Marston “he’s fired, he’s hired, he’s a ghost” and the decimation of the Holden and Gannon families on OLTL, Port Charles’ cancellation and the continued descent into brutality, misogyny and gunfire that is GH are all the hallmarks of Frons.
I understand that soaps need to cut costs in today’s economy. I understand that ratings are down and the market is crowded with other daytime fare. But firing a 90-year-old woman is not going to save that much money. My guess is the firearm budget alone could support Ms. Lee at the style to which she has become accustomed. Also, I know that there is an air of recklessness on all the soaps. Serial killers are moving in on Salem and Llanview, half the black population of Oakdale has left town or died and there is an ominous dread coming out of Pine Valley right now. But GH already fired Rachel Ames, whose Audrey hardy had been on the show since 1964, making her the closest thing the show has to an original cast member). Ms. Ames’ firing was deplorable and showed a lack of respect for any sense of history. But Anna Lee’s firing shows a complete lack of decency.
And somebody better let Eisner know that ABC is now the network known for firing little old ladies in wheelchairs.
Look, I’m a writer. In fact I want to write soap operas, so I understand that sometimes for the sake of the story, an actor is sacrificed. That’s why I’m not screaming about the massacre at Days right now. (Although I reserve the right to do so.) But this was clearly a business decision. And it’s a business decision that shows just how little the executives care about what fans want or even their own employees. I seriously doubt that the GH set is a very fun place to be right now.
I’m pissed. I want more people to get pissed. This action is unacceptable and I think it’s time for fans to take a stand. At the end of the day, these shows belong to us, not them. We’ve been watching them longer than Brian Frons and we know more about the show than Jill Farren Phelps. We want our stars treated well, especially as they get older, and we want them run not like businesses, but creative endeavors. Anna Lee should be getting a paycheck every week, she’s earned it. And we should be getting better shows with the actors we want to see. If they want to run everything exactly like a business, then that’s their right. I would just like to remind Mr. Frons and his dimwitted cronies, that in business, in the end, it’s all about the consumer. And the consumer is always right.
For information, to sign the petition or just to read about one of Daytimes Grande Dames, check out Anna Lee’s site. The best way to show your support is to write a letter to her care of ABC.
Monday, September 08, 2003
Insomnia and Lego™ People
I spent all last lying in bed trying to decided what I would do if I was told that starting tomorrow I would be Head Writer of All My Children. Yes, this is what I do as I lay asleep at night. While Scott slumbered peacefully beside me, I worked through various scenarios in which I would deliver the show from its sorry current state and restore it to its past glory as a family-centered show with humor and drama. And yes, I’m sure the phrase “past glory” went through my head.
This is what I do when I can’t sleep. Since Scott moved in, I can no longer do what I used to do when I couldn’t sleep – act out scenes from my own soap opera I hope to produce sometime in the future. I have about two years of story for about 35 different characters stored in my brain. These stories have been honed over the years and whenever I couldn’t fall immediately to sleep, I would pick a favorite scene and act it out, usually in my head but occasionally out loud. This is why I can no longer do that. I think Scott would find it odd if I, all of a sudden in the middle of the night, started rambling to Johanna about how I, Mavis, had found her long lost daughter singing in a blues club in Portland, Oregon but hid the fact because I was mad at her for stealing my husband and shooting my brother. Yeah, I think it’s a safe bet he would find that odd.
See, I love soap opera. I always have. My earliest memory is of Erica Kane and Tom Cudahy on their honeymoon in St. Croix. And I don’t mean that that was my first memory of television. I mean, that’s the earliest thing I can remember. I would always watch the soaps with my mom when I was a kid and, well. I think they kind of warped my brain. They drifted into my subconscious and affected the way I played. My Fisher Price people had extramarital affairs. My Weebles blackmailed each other for controlling interest in Weeble Industries. And my Lego™ people…oh, my Lego™ people. There was nothing they didn’t do.
For a decade, most of my free time was spent playing with my Legos™. But I didn’t build spaceships or monsters. I built gigantic, well-appointed homes with carefully inlaid tile floors or secret passageways leading to the gardeners shed so Sarah, the bored, rich Lego™ wife could have liaisons with Jacques, the Lego™ stable hand. There were Lego™ archvillains and Lego™ heroines and every summer, there was a Lego™ plane crash in my backyard so my Lego™ people could wander around the wilderness and occasionally be presumed dead.
And there were always cliffhangers. Every night, before I went to bed, some catastrophe would befall wherever my Lego™ people lived. There would either by a huge avalanche of pillows on top of their rustic ski lodge or a fire made of construction paper would rip through the carefully laid-out Lego™ town. My favorite were the landslides where I would just shove the entire house I had built off the table and let everyone be buried under rubble. And there was always someone buried under rubble.
So I would go to bed each night not knowing who would live or who would die. I always had a few contract players who couldn’t die, so I’d have them be the rescuers in the morning. Then I would throw the rest of the characters in a bag and draw out three whose contracts would not be renewed. Then after the appropriate funeral and hopeful words from the town matriarch, I would disassemble the Lego™ people and put then back together in new configurations, thus creating new characters to repopulate the town. And if I happened to recreate a Lego™ person who looked exactly like a character I had recently killed off, then I would have to figure out a story for how they had survived being buried alive by the rock slide (gravel in the backyard) and have them return to town, usually to find their spouses remarried and their children rapidly aged. (There are no Lego™ babies, so it was necessary).
And my characters, I loved my characters. Some had been with me from my first Lego™ Town Set. There was Paul Crusafin, the dark-haired man with a business suit painted in white on his blue torso. He started out as my hero, but after a while became a nasty archvillain, always working on some dastardly plan to wrest control of the McCafferty family’s business and fortune. There was young Mariah McCafferty, the headstrong young daughter who set out to thwart Paul at every turn. And managed to be married 12 times, but to only 5 different men. There was a lot of coming back from the dead.
My Lego™ people were my friends when I needed them. They were a world I could retreat to when school was difficult or my parents were annoying me. And they allowed me to experiment with storytelling as I could go back and tell a particularly good plot over again if I wasn’t fully satisfied with the outcome.
I tried to show Scott the family tree I had created for my Lego™ people the other night but he resisted a bit. I don’t think he really wants to know how deep my neurosis goes. But when people ask me why I continue to watch soaps or why, in my heart of hearts, they are really what I want to be writing, I have to explain to them that I have been writing them my entire life. They are a part of me. Which is why I get so annoyed when they start sucking uncontrollably. And why I can’t sleep some nights until I figure out exactly the best way to bring All My Children back to its prime.
Also, I may be just a little bit crazy.
This is what I do when I can’t sleep. Since Scott moved in, I can no longer do what I used to do when I couldn’t sleep – act out scenes from my own soap opera I hope to produce sometime in the future. I have about two years of story for about 35 different characters stored in my brain. These stories have been honed over the years and whenever I couldn’t fall immediately to sleep, I would pick a favorite scene and act it out, usually in my head but occasionally out loud. This is why I can no longer do that. I think Scott would find it odd if I, all of a sudden in the middle of the night, started rambling to Johanna about how I, Mavis, had found her long lost daughter singing in a blues club in Portland, Oregon but hid the fact because I was mad at her for stealing my husband and shooting my brother. Yeah, I think it’s a safe bet he would find that odd.
See, I love soap opera. I always have. My earliest memory is of Erica Kane and Tom Cudahy on their honeymoon in St. Croix. And I don’t mean that that was my first memory of television. I mean, that’s the earliest thing I can remember. I would always watch the soaps with my mom when I was a kid and, well. I think they kind of warped my brain. They drifted into my subconscious and affected the way I played. My Fisher Price people had extramarital affairs. My Weebles blackmailed each other for controlling interest in Weeble Industries. And my Lego™ people…oh, my Lego™ people. There was nothing they didn’t do.
For a decade, most of my free time was spent playing with my Legos™. But I didn’t build spaceships or monsters. I built gigantic, well-appointed homes with carefully inlaid tile floors or secret passageways leading to the gardeners shed so Sarah, the bored, rich Lego™ wife could have liaisons with Jacques, the Lego™ stable hand. There were Lego™ archvillains and Lego™ heroines and every summer, there was a Lego™ plane crash in my backyard so my Lego™ people could wander around the wilderness and occasionally be presumed dead.
And there were always cliffhangers. Every night, before I went to bed, some catastrophe would befall wherever my Lego™ people lived. There would either by a huge avalanche of pillows on top of their rustic ski lodge or a fire made of construction paper would rip through the carefully laid-out Lego™ town. My favorite were the landslides where I would just shove the entire house I had built off the table and let everyone be buried under rubble. And there was always someone buried under rubble.
So I would go to bed each night not knowing who would live or who would die. I always had a few contract players who couldn’t die, so I’d have them be the rescuers in the morning. Then I would throw the rest of the characters in a bag and draw out three whose contracts would not be renewed. Then after the appropriate funeral and hopeful words from the town matriarch, I would disassemble the Lego™ people and put then back together in new configurations, thus creating new characters to repopulate the town. And if I happened to recreate a Lego™ person who looked exactly like a character I had recently killed off, then I would have to figure out a story for how they had survived being buried alive by the rock slide (gravel in the backyard) and have them return to town, usually to find their spouses remarried and their children rapidly aged. (There are no Lego™ babies, so it was necessary).
And my characters, I loved my characters. Some had been with me from my first Lego™ Town Set. There was Paul Crusafin, the dark-haired man with a business suit painted in white on his blue torso. He started out as my hero, but after a while became a nasty archvillain, always working on some dastardly plan to wrest control of the McCafferty family’s business and fortune. There was young Mariah McCafferty, the headstrong young daughter who set out to thwart Paul at every turn. And managed to be married 12 times, but to only 5 different men. There was a lot of coming back from the dead.
My Lego™ people were my friends when I needed them. They were a world I could retreat to when school was difficult or my parents were annoying me. And they allowed me to experiment with storytelling as I could go back and tell a particularly good plot over again if I wasn’t fully satisfied with the outcome.
I tried to show Scott the family tree I had created for my Lego™ people the other night but he resisted a bit. I don’t think he really wants to know how deep my neurosis goes. But when people ask me why I continue to watch soaps or why, in my heart of hearts, they are really what I want to be writing, I have to explain to them that I have been writing them my entire life. They are a part of me. Which is why I get so annoyed when they start sucking uncontrollably. And why I can’t sleep some nights until I figure out exactly the best way to bring All My Children back to its prime.
Also, I may be just a little bit crazy.
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