Category: default || By jt3y

News item from the Los Angeles Times, via Mark Evanier's News From Me: Sony Pictures refused to distribute Albert Brooks' new film, Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World, because they felt it might be offensive to Muslims. Never mind that the film is actually poking fun at American ignorance of foreign affairs --- Brooks plays himself as a comedian sent overseas to improve Arab-U.S. relations --- Sony was concerned that the title in particular was in poor taste. (It's a weak title, being too long and not very catchy, but it's hardly offensive.)

As the Times points out, this is the same studio that released (or did it escape?) Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo, which was universally derided by critics as vulgar, scatological, and possibly worst of all, not funny, and which audiences avoided in droves. (Although I see it's still playing the $1 movie in West Mifflin, which caters to those most discriminating of audiences, teen-agers hanging out at the mall.)

Yes, a company that makes millions on video games that traffic in carnage that would have made Caligula cringe; and which released Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo, which included, among other characters, a woman who had a working phallus for a nose, thinks an Albert Brooks political satire might be "in poor taste." And so it goes, as Linda Ellerbee used to say. They must purchase irony in carload amounts in Hollywood.

Along with ignorance: I recently saw the trailer for the remake of The Pink Panther starring Steve Martin. Mere words don't describe how awful it looks, and that fact that it's been delayed several times (it was originally supposed to come out this summer, and then this fall, and is now scheduled for "sometime in 2006") leads me to believe that early screenings went poorly.

Setting aside, if we can, the notion that they're taking a character inexorably linked to Peter Sellers and sticking another actor in the role, practically asking for a less-than-favorable comparison, the producers have inexplicably taken Inspector Clouseau and transported him to New York. Not to put too fine a point on it, but what the heck are they thinking?

Is Hollywood worried that people don't already see Noo Yawk City on TV and in the movies enough? Or are Hollywood executives concerned that 'Murrican audiences can't relate to a movie set in Paris? Or, even more likely, can Hollywood executives not relate to a movie set in Paris?

Part of the charm of the "Pink Panther" movies (only two of which were good, the others ranged from mediocre to awful) was seeing the European backgrounds, people and cars. Inspector Clouseau was intended as a broad parody of everything the British think is funny about French people, up to and including their accents. Taking Clouseau out of Paris defeats the purpose of making an Inspector Clouseau movie. Instead, you're making just another dumb, slapstick comedy. I predict that it will be ... how you say ... a beum.

Alas, "charm" is something in short supply in Hollywood these days. Why settle for charm when you can have poop and fart jokes? Charm takes work. Whimsy requires subtlety. But even a second-grader can understand a poop joke, and that appears to be the mentality at which the entertainment industry operates these days.

Indeed, Hollywood can squeeze the charm out of almost any property, no matter how beloved, charming or whimsical. Being a big "Rocky and Bullwinkle" fan, I had high hopes for the feature film that came out a few years ago, especially when I learned that people who had worked on the original cartoons were being tapped to provide the voices. Alas, Hollywood had to ruin it by trying to plunk these gentle, whimsical characters into a live-action film with a standard, and dull, plot.

For crying out loud, you can do anything in an animated cartoon. If you have the chance to make a movie about a cartoon, why would you constrain it by using live actors? And sure enough, any time Rocky and Bullwinkle were on the screen, the film tripped along merrily. Any time that the focus shifted to the live actors, it ground to a halt. The movie died a quick and merciful death; if you didn't see it, don't bother renting it.

It's clear that when Hollywood develops clunker ideas like these, the people responsible have no sense of fun, or wonder, or amazement. They're like people who go to a baseball game and spend the entire time rattling off statistics and keeping intricate scorecards, but never actually get excited about the action on the field, or even spend any time just enjoying the sounds and smells of the park. They understand things on an analytical level, but not on an emotional level.

Some folks who read the Almanac might know that for a brief time, I was the radio-TV critic for the Trib. It was a job I thought I'd enjoy, but didn't for a variety of reasons. One was that while I very much enjoyed covering local radio and, to a lesser extent, television, something like 80 percent of the job should probably consist of reporting on national TV.

I enjoyed doing the local stories because the people were accessible, friendly, and (for the most part) down to earth. I found many of the national people were vapid, vain and out of touch, and every time I checked the trades or opened my mail, I'd see something even more vapid, vain and out-of-touch. I decided I wasn't cut out for the beat when "Survivor" appeared on the scene; I'd rather eat ground glass than watch another episode of any reality show.

It takes a particularly vapid person to come up with a show like "Survivor," and it takes people who are extremely out of touch to do things like make a live action movie out of "Underdog" or take Jacques Clouseau out of France.

Not everything coming out of Hollywood is krep, of course. I am very much looking forward to George Clooney's new movie about Edward R. Murrow, Good Night, and Good Luck. I've read just about everything about Murrow that I can get my hands on, and from the trailer, and the early reports on the film, it looks like Clooney has done the job right.

Clooney did months of research to prepare. He filmed the movie in black and white to capture the look of the times, and he's using real footage of "Tailgunner" Joe McCarthy to depict the ethics-challenged senator's dramatic '50s showdown with Murrow.

Another reason to admire this film: Clooney is really opening himself up to a merciless attack from the right-wing, which in recent years has been trying to rehabilitate McCarthy's image. The real Joe McCarthy was not a crusading patriot, fearlessly hunting down Communists; as Clooney's movie will no doubt show, he was a lying drunkard, a thick-headed clown, and a bully who made up his evidence as he wrecked the lives of hundreds of people for his own short-term political gain. But you wouldn't know that from reading, say, Ann Coulter or Michelle Malkin.

There are no car chases, I'm sure, and no computer-generated special effects. The leading man is David Strathairn, who nine of 10 "Entertainment Tonight" viewers couldn't pick out of a police lineup. This film isn't going to attract a teen crowd, won't have any merchandise spinoffs, can't spawn a sequel, and will be mercilessly attacked by the usual suspects (talk radio, The Washington Times, Fox News, et al).

In fact, I'm starting to wonder how it got made in the first place.

You don't suppose the studio blackmailed Clooney, do you?

Well, if he turns up in the "Underdog" movie, you'll know why.