If you want proof that the American romantic comedy is in a dismal state, trapped halfway between apology and experiment, you need look no further than "Going the Distance," which features real-life couple Drew Barrymore and Justin Long as a likable young recession-era duo separated by a continent, a lack of funds and a cloudy future. I don't mean that this movie is strikingly good or strikingly bad, in cosmic terms -- it's a solid but totally forgettable entertainment, redeemed somewhat by Barrymore's loud, horsey laugh and some agreeably racy comic situations.
Abstraction is where genres go to die. In the post-"Bourne" era, the idea of a lone operative working in the shadows, holing up in rustic European towns while dodging impeccably cutthroat, improbably glamorous enemies, seems almost quaint, even kitschy -- the cloak-and-dagger equivalent of a Hummel figurine. A hired killer, living by his own eccentric but determined code of ethics? How utterly darling.
The mother of "The Brady Bunch," a former NFL quarterback, one of the self-proclaimed "guidos" from "Jersey Shore" and the daughter of Sarah Palin are among the celebrities who will cha-cha-cha on the 11th season of "Dancing with the Stars."
The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced last week that Jean-Luc Godard would be given an honorary Oscar at a non-televised ceremony in November, along with Eli Wallach and film preservationist Kevin Brownlow. Normally such a move would prompt a number of questions, such as: Would Godard, a famously anti-Hollywood filmmaker, accept or decline such an award? If he accepted, would Godard even show up, and if he showed up, what would he say? Would he hector the room about the corporatization of cinema, which is even more pernicious now than it was 50 years ago, when Godard made the jump from Marxist film critic to new wave filmmaker? Or would Godard, who has been vocal in supporting the Palestinians against the Israelis, and has been accused of anti-Semitism throughout much of his career, pull a Vanessa Redgrave?
What a night! "Mad Men" wins the Emmy for outstanding drama, Don Draper wins the Clio for his Glo Coat campaign, and Peggy wins a major victory against dismissive art director Stan Rizzo -- which inspires him to bestow upon her the "prize for smuggest bitch in the world."
"You know I love you more when you're cold and heartless," says Eric tenderly to Pam. It's a lovely moment, like "Casablanca" starring vampires. And it's the first time in a few episodes that Eric has been something more than, as Russell puts it "just a lump of muscle with a blood grudge." Or in the words of the disenchanted pole dancer/cardiologist Yvetta, "big, long and stupid."
The Oscars have arguably bigger stars, and the Golden Globes have an international je ne sais quois. But the Emmys, well, where else are you going to get Kim Kardashian, Jewel and Jack Kevorkian together in the same room? Saaayyyy….