THIS ENTIRE “FOOD DIARY” IN NYMAG READS LIKE IPECAC.
Saturday, February 19
Taralucci e Vino in Flatiron is where I had breakfast, with my friend Chris Hughes. He’s probably best known for co-founding Facebook, but he’s also founder of Jumo, a nonprofit platform I really support and love. We split the fruit platter. We’re both sort of health nuts, and I knew I’d have a bigger meal later. I had a cappuccino there and a cappuccino to go. Cappuccinos are a big part of daily diet. They’re my fuel.
“Well," said Burt. "Things will work out. You’ve got to have faith."
“Faith is something the young can afford. I’ve read all the great books, and I’m not pretty anymore.”—Michael Cunningham, A Home at the End of the World
“Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwarzenegger must have some kind of fertility fetish. Twins? Junior? The first is a movie about genetic manipulation and the second is about man babies. And you know it was all Danny DeVito’s idea.”—
We started talking about Junior at work for some reason and Junior was, is, and will always be disgusting and terrible and ridiculous and completely irredeemable.
I have Matthew Gallaway to thank for this one. Had I not attended a Q&A with him last month, there’s no way Bedhead would have ended up in my music library. Though one of their albums (WhatFunLifeWas, where “The Unpredictable Landlord” can be found) is used as a chapter title in The Metropolis Case, the name would have slipped under my radar had it not been briefly mentioned during his talk.
Sometimes you just want to keep a great movie/book/album all to yourself - childishly clutching it to your chest and sharing it with absolutely no one. Then you finally let someone else have a go and end up delighting in their enjoyment, even if that thing you’re sharing is a now-disintegrated 90’s “slowcore” band from Texas.
Unfinished is an exhibition featuring work by Franco and director Gus Van Sant that will be open at the Gagosian Gallery in Beverly Hills from February 26-April 9. It features two films, Endless Idaho and My Own Private River, which Franco edited from unused footage from Van Sant’s film 1991 My Own Private Idaho. Endless Idaho is a 12 hour (yes, you read that right) look at the making of Van Sant’s film while My Own Private Riveris a portrait of the late, great actor River Phoenix, who starred in Van Sant’s original film.
I’m going to rage internally about how absolutely terrible this article is, go to dinner with my roommates, and then come home and elaborate. Until then, bask in its idiocy.
"Guys talk about ‘Star Wars’ like it’s not a movie made for people half their age; a guy’s idea of a perfect night is a hang around the PlayStation with his bandmates, or a trip to Vegas with his college friends…. They are more like the kids we babysat than the dads who drove us home."
“During the second verse, the persona gets cold feet and wonders what the purpose of continuing the relationship is, pondering the question, “If they say nothing is forever…then what makes love the exception?” After repeating the chorus, the song leads into a call and response section. André 3000 jokes, “What’s cooler than being cool?”, and the “fellas’” response, an overdubbed version of his vocals, is “Ice cold”, a reference to one of André Benjamin’s stage names. He then calls to the “ladies”, whose response is overdubbed from vocals by Rabeka Tuinei, who was an assistant to the audio engineer.”—
“I’m looking at your face and I just wanna smash it. I just wanna fucking smash it with a sledgehammer and squeeze it.”—Punch-Drunk Love is PERFECT you guys. How did I forget this? I haven’t seen it in like seven years and I’m in love all over again.
“Cassidy and Robot had been married in some sort of pagan ritual that the state didn’t recognize, which was fitting, they said, since they themselves did not recognize the state.”—Justin Taylor, The Gospel of Anarchy - this book would have been super irritating had it not made me chuckle every once in a while.
Slant's review of Big Mommas: Like Father Like Son is golden.
This movie is so bad that you’ll be cowering in your seat while convulsively laughing at everything from its bad KFC jokes (“We was so poor we had to lick other people’s fingers”) to an impromptu musical number involving a rap duet (one of three!) that includes lyrics about a “super-sized badonkadonk.”
It’s a true rubber-necker’s delight, a comedy so inconceivably tacky that it will make you question whether or not you’re laughing at the film or with it.
Allow me to assure you in no uncertain terms: This movie is improbably bad.
It is impossible to overstate this film’s terribleness.
The disconnect from reality that everyone involved in this film exhibited by agreeing to collaborate on it is staggering.
All the while, Chirkoff (Tony Curran)—yes, that’s right, there’s a character whose name is supposed to sound like “jerkoff” in the film—waits for his chance to strike at Malcolm and Trent, not realizing that the two are, as Trent puts it, “looking for a four-inch hard drive in three-inch heels.”
Big Mommas: Like Father, Like Son is almost never funny on purpose.
A game of Twister between Kurtis and Big Momma is not even the film’s lowest lowlight.