"Borat star's next film sparks bidding war" Friday October 27 5:51 AM ET
"Bruno," English comedian Sacha Baron Cohen's follow-up to next week's release "Borat," triggered an intense bidding war in Hollywood on Thursday.
By early evening, sources said leading contender Universal Pictures hadoffered more than $42 million for worldwide rights to the film.
As in the case of "Borat," Jay Roach would produce with Baron Cohen. Nodirector is on board, though it has been reported that Baron Cohen wants to shoot the movie in the summer.In "Bruno," he will call upon another of his alter egos, a gay fashionistafrom Austria. Bruno fancies himself as "the voice of Austrian youth TV."
In his appearances on Baron Cohen's "Da Ali G Show," the character sashayed from New York Fashion Week to Miami nightclubs.
Fox, one of the contenders for "Bruno," is releasing the LarryCharles-directed "Borat" on November 3.
Concerned that the movie wasn't registering strongly enough in tracking polls, the studio has scaled back its opening to about 800 theaters in hopesof building word-of-mouth. ----- A good friend noted: "It can't be tracking all that bad if Universal's offering 42 shampooing million for the RIGHTS to Sacha's next one, before a frame of film has even been shot..."
¶ 4:11 PM0 Comments
Thursday, October 26, 2006
I'm Going Away for a While
Yeah, well, the site hasn't been updated in a while.
And I have some bad news: it won't be updated for a while more.
I have lots of work, and lack a laptop, so the TLBR posts are going to be scarce. And I apologize for that. But I'm sure there's lots of stuff you all could be doing in the 5-7 minutes it takes you to peruse this site.
(anyone care to help me start my 06-07 mbb media guide? i started it yesterday. first game is wednesday. help me. please.)
The Band Is Back Together
NEW ROCHELLE, NY -- The band is back together.
In case you didn't read the headline, you now know it.
(you know it!)
That includes the entire 549 Coalition (skip to the end), as well as many other auxillary members...
It's nice to be back in the Queen City of the Sound. It's especially nice when you know tomorrow begins the 20 year countdown clock.
DB did the driving, after the quick tour of the institution that helped take me from boy to man (yeah, that sounds awful like a bad Nickelodeon show, or something on ABC on Friday nights...and I don't mean the Australian Broadcast Company...)
The drive that was dreadful for too many times to count was theraputic. It was also broken up several times because old man here had to pee.
And I had a proper cuppa Dunkin Donuts (large hot, skim, one sugar...it rolls off the tongue), so it make me sorta hafta pee.
And when we arrived at the finest four-year institution between Fairfield and Fordham, it was a welcome sight. Yes, it is uncommon to hang out in a place that you used to work, but, well, they have beer. And football. (kinda.)
After a few minutes, and a few texts, we found Shaky...now the erstwhile assistant coach of young men and women. And, despite the sublimity in seeing one of Earth's most solid individuals, me and DB (or is it "DB and I?" Whatever. The "both of us.") it was time to go to the place where I spent the third-most time in New Roc-izzle - the Avenue Deli.
(not a #2...went #32, with a splash of balsamic.)
Delish. I mean, real delish. And I inhaled it like Lindsay Lohan and an eight-ball in the bathroom of Bungalow 8.
After pouncing on the sando, I took in a bit of the "football" (bit = maybe 46 seconds) and headed to the beer tent.
And by beer-tent, I mean "bunch of assholes in a confined area who you didn't like ages ago, still don't like know, and bump into you so you spill your dixie cup of Bud Light or you get theirs spilled on you. Fun for all ages. Well, not really. Only those over 21. I kinda wish I wasn't there, so I left and went to heckle my old assistant/now replacement. The goal was to subliminally say the word shampoo (in this case, "shampoo" = "douchebag") as he was the P.A. announcer and I thought that it would sound funny if he said "Carry by Douchebag, tackle by Sullivan...third down LaSalle."
By then, J-Malls was in the house, spry and fresh, while Dyzzy was in lockdown mode in his role as the Assistant Director of Campusland Security. Buzzy was en route, packing his service revolver and, unfortunately, his bird.
But regardless, the watches were unevenly synchronized to focus on the 6 o'clock hour - which was the point of coming down the N to the R-O. (author's note: not NiRoPe) It was a night out, with a 100 dollar cover, with open bar and open lobster.
Rather than go to the one single establishment left on North Avenue (the Champs-Elysses of Westchester County), it was MobilMart, a sixer of some hoity-toity beer, and a 12er of the cham-pag-nuh (you can take me out of the MKE, but you can't take the Miller Lite proclivity out of me...) for some Notre Dame football and the new Justin Timberlake CD on awful loud.
(yeah, JT. five men. all of whom have their pants on.)
Beer, good friends, oh shampoo! Shoulders just walked in, all growns up and with a tie.
And in watching, the second half of the Knicks/Celtics in the preseason the other night (the French call it ennui), I tend to agree.
Does Balkman have energy? Yes. But so does my eight-year old irish setter. Kaleigh doesn't know a thing about basketball. And, as we've seen through the different ports of call, neither does Isiah.
And Isiah, I won't even (inappropriately) "touch" anything you might have on your docket. ----- And we say, Let's Go Mets.
Say what you want about the squad from Queens, they have fun. As do the fans in Mets/WKTU Nation.
Tonight should be interesting. Jeff Suppan is coming off a full slate of rest, while the Mets will patchwork a pitching staff tonight, starting with Oliver Perez, then conceivably to Darren Oliver, Steve Trachsel, Aaron Heilman, Bob Ojeda, and Jerry Koosman.
I'll repeat: it's Jeff Suppan. Su-ppan (yes!). Second syllable rhymes with "Spahn." If I'm Willie Randolph, I'm not worried.
Then again, Willie the Yankee is putting a Pirates throwaway, the corpse of Darren Oliver, and potentially a guy with a 14+ ERA in the playoffs out there.
Just a thought: if the game is going well and the Mets can get to the 6th or so with a good tempo, keep Trach on the bench. He's too damned slow with his delivery and it's a schoolnight. ----- I was going to go all Greg Anthony-on-Renaldo Balkman on Donna Shalala, but someone else did a much better and concise job. ----- Whew, Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn are still dating.
And to think I was worried about Kim Jong Il and the potential of North Korea proliferating nuclear weapons.
Priorities... ----- Back to the Mets: the postseason on Fox is why I'm glad Anna Benson lives in Baltimore's Inner Harbor.
How much would the Fox folks feature camera glimpses of the hurler's harlot missus in the stands, wearing something next to nothing, but different from the day before? ----- Yeah, I just quoted a Prince song.
But Raspberry Beret is potentially one of the top three songs of the 1980's. ----- I'll leave with this. Enjoy Thursday.
Yes, if you've noticed, I've put a whole mess of posts up today.
Reason: it helps alleviate the boredom/angst as I sit here in limbo. Also, I can't possibly chew my fingers anymore. (that should answer any question as to whether I've "heard anything yet." it's been a year, what's another day, right grasshopper?) ----- Tomorrow is Tuesday Matinee Day. I think I'll be taking in Jackass Two. Man of the Year is close second option. But I'd prefer to unwind with gratutitous smashes to the groin. ----- Oh my...flipping through the radio...onto one of those crap "We play the hits from the 60's, 70's, 80's, and 90's..." stations with the nighttime show hosted by "Delilah."
Well, some 18 yr. old dude calls in with a request going out to his 13 yr. old girlfriend...Aerosmith's "I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing," from that movie where Ben Affleck decides to fly the shampooing Space Shuttle into an asteroid that is about 2,000 times the size of Texas.
But let's not lose track of the point here, kids. 18 yr. old lad. 13 yr. old lass. Save for Bangkok, that's pretty shampoo illegal. Unless they're just drinking vanilla frappes and sharing the same, long strand of spaghetti akin to Lady & The Tramp.
But back to the ancillary point: can we get Affleck back in the Space Shuttle? ----- "It's All Over Now Baby Blue" by Dylan is on WMVY, which still remains as the best damned terrestrial radio station in the country. ----- Memo to the Fox Sports execs: Steve Lyons' crime is not ignorance or, worse, racism. It's stupidity. I listened to the comments over and over.
They weren't in poor taste. They were merely poor, well, use of the English language and basic logic. They made no sense.
As I was listening to WEEI today (more proof that TLBR needs me a jobby-job), one caller referred to Randy Moss as "a sinister Manny Ramirez." I liked that.
But if it does indeed come to fruition, I will take the same stance with Moss as I do with Ramirez: just perform (, baby). I don't care if you talk to the media. I don't care if star in the commercials. I don't care...as long as you do when you're in between those lines.
(my concern with Moss isn't his attitude, it's his aptitude...I don't think he can grasp the Patriots' offense...see also "Hays, Donald") ----- Ken Macha got shitcanned today. Weird.
I wonder if he ends up on the Red Sox bench should Brad Mills depart... ----- Are you on MySpace?
(seriously, I'm going to try this MySpace thing as a sort of experiment...so drop by and, I dunno, do whatever it is you do on MySpace...other than try to pick up 13 yr. olds...leave that to the folks on Delilah...) yh&os,
¶ 9:17 PM4 Comments
How Did I Miss This? (Borat in Amsterdam)
The quotes in this are too priceless. I can't wait for Nov. 4.
I'll Add One More Reason...
Shortly after the Yankees ended their 2006 season like Elvis' last days - bloated, overweight, underperforming, filthy rich, taking a dump on themselves, and dead - the New York Daily News quickly reported that George M. Steinbrenner III was ready to dump skipper Joe Torre.
Well, yesterday proved that report as "false." At least, that's what Kevin Kennedy was trying to diatribe about on the Fox pregame show. (on an aside, I like Jeanne Zelasko, but what is her real job? Does she do anything else other than work on Saturdays and in the postseason?)
Not so fast. I'm not sure it was false. Maybe it was proved to be inaccurate, but there are no doubts that Torre was finished.
Bill Madden, the highly respected NYDN baseball scribe, penned a column today with his three reasons why Torre was spared the Steinbrenner axe.
All three reasons are good, solid, and I'd surmise about 99% accurate.
But the main reason all this Torre hubbub kicked into play, I believe, has less to do with the baseball team off the Grand Concourse and more to do with the baseball team off the Grand Central Pkwy.
It takes away from the New York Mets.
The Yankees got eliminated in the afternoon, prior to the Mets winning their series. Mets, back page. Yanks, front page.
Now, I have no doubt that Steinbrenner was fuming after the loss. And I'm sure, after he was done accusing his bowl of tapioca pudding of stealing his red hankerchief, he was shouting for Billy Martin's number. But I also believe that Yankee brass "floated" the story in order to take away from the Amazin's positive press.
There are three teams that GMSIII hates to see get one-up on his pinstripers: the Mets, the Red Sox, and the (Devil) Rays. In that order.
In the eyes of many New Yorkers, Yankee fans, and other baseball fans, you don't fire Joe Torre. You convene both chambers of Congress, and if they vote 2/3's majority in favor of dismissal, then Torre is impeached. That's the "aura and mystique" of St. Joe Torre.
So to dare, gasp, to fire the manager of the team with the best record in baseball (best payroll in baseball be damned...), then that's going to take the lead in the race for the lede.
(no truth to the rumor, Law & Order was going to use it as a "ripped from the headlines" episode)
And it was a shrewd move. The Yanks were eliminated on Saturday, floated the firing story on Sat. night while the Mets were playing, and it took center stage (no, not Eraserhead's show on YES). And then it took on life of its own for the next three days or so until Torre would hold his own presser.
Three days of coverage for the Yanks, all of which overshadowed the fact that the Mets are four wins from the World Series and eight from Ring Day at the 2007 home opener at Shea.
Kinda crappy, but it's par for the course.
As for my feelings on the whole thing, I dunno. The Yankees are a different animal.
They spend the most money, leaps and bounds more than the Red Sox who rank second in payroll. They have an All-Star at every position. The right side of their infield has a combined salary close to the annual operating budget of NASA.
They pay their manager $7 million, more than any other skipper in MLB. They have four other former major league managers as their coaches (Tony Pena, Larry Bowa, Lee Mazzilli, Joe Kerrigan).
For all those riches and excess to exist, they have equally as rich and excessive goals. Or should I simply say "goal." To win the World Series. Every year.
No win? No goal. No success. And potentially, no job.
That's the goal. Every year. If you don't like the goal, or don't think you can achieve it, then don't sign with the Yankees as a free agent, or don't take a job as a coach or front office executive.
As you all well know, I am not a Yankee fan. But I am a fan of a professional sports franchise that, while the rules and the leagues are different, have the same goal and expectations of excellence: the New England Patriots.
No, Bob Kraft can't buy the AFC Pro Bowl team. No, Bill Belichick doesn't have a roster of first-ballot inductees to Canton. But they put together the best roster with the best players and the best coaches, all tuned into winning the Super Bowl. That's the goal of everything they do, from training table meals to training camp to week 12.
I can appreciate the expectations, and the approach to reach those expectations. They're lofty. And no, Bob Kraft doesn't have to be talked out of nuking Rt. 1 after a Patriots loss like the senile old guy in the turtleneck in Tampa might be wont to do with a Yankee playoff exit (which is becoming quite a regularity for the "business-like" Yankees these days).
So whose fault does the demise of the Yankees lie at the feet of? (apologies for ending a sentence with a preposition, Grammar polizia)
Torre? He's the manager. He makes up the lineup. The same lineup that had two-time American League Most Valuable Player Alex Rodriguez batting 6th, 6th, 4th, and then 8th.
Cashman? He's the one who makes up the 25-man All-Star roster. So when Joe Torre is forced to start Sidney shampooing Ponson in a key August series with the Red Sox, there's something rotten in Aruba.
A-Rod? One man does not make a team. One man, however, can break one. Some of the criticism he receives is justified. Most of the rest of it is crap. He is an outsider in the Yankee clubhouse and I don't care how talented the lot of them are, you need cohesion.
Which brings me to the Captain. Is it Jeter's fault? Is it his fault because he's not the vocal type of leader? I seem to think that Paul O'Neill would have stabbed anyone who stood in his way of winning. And if he had to hold A-Rod, Giambi, or Mussina by their necks over a boiling caulderon of oil to shape them up, he would have. Jeter would not. And I don't think it helps that he kinda sorta loathes A-Rod.
The core of the "true Yankees? I don't think the Yankee clubhouse is 25 men, 25 cabs. Because I think Jeter, Bernie Williams, Posada, and Mo Rivera probably share one. So it's 25 men, 20 or 21 cabs...depending on whether or not Scott Proctor and Kyle Farnsworth are heading to karoake night at the Beechmont Tavern. But the players that were there for the halcyon days of Chad Curtis, Luis Sojo, Charlie Hays, and Scott Brosius, they have a beef with the other folks. No doubt. I do recall in 2003, when a clearly dismayed and disgusted Jorge Posada referred to the rest of the Yankee clubhouse as those "who weren't here when we were winning rings." (quote is paraphrased, but you get the point).
Or is it the rest of the Yankee clubhouse? You can't fault a Robinson Cano/Melky Cabrera or Hideki Matsui/Chien-Ming-Kevin-Brown Wang for any of it. Cano's a rook. Matsui and Wang have language barriers. I also don't think you can fault Johnny Damon. While in a different and less homicidal way than Paul O'Neill, Damon would kill for a win. (wow, I'm defending Johnny shampooing Damon...) But the Sheffield's, Giambi's, Mussina's, and Johnson's...they're at fault. They make the money. Rather, they took the money. They need to take the responsibility and put their personal and insignificant ways behind them. Sheffield is the type of player who admitted to making errors on purpose in Milwaukee in order to get traded. Giambi cheats. Mussina is widely regarded as a miserable human being. And Johnson is Mussina, except 6-10 and left-handed.
So that's that. Now that the resolution of L'Affaire Torre is done, maybe we can get on with the business of covering the Mets' run toward baseball history. That is, until reports fly about A-Rod being traded. I wonder if that will coincide with a potential trip down the Canyon of Heroes for Willie, Omar, Pedro, David and Jose... On an aside... The White Sox are set to start their games at 7:11, in a promotion with 7-11 convenience stores. How long before NORML sponsors a team, so that they start all their games at 4:20? ----- Saw "The Departed" yesterday. (when you're on a self-imposed personal work stoppage such as I, going to the movies is a viable option)
Thought it was pretty good, not great. 3.5/3.75 stars outta five. Matt Damon was great. Leonardo DiCaprio very good. And Marky-Mark very above average. Even Alec Baldwin was good.
It's worth the 10 bucks, or whatever it costs to go to a movie these days (I dunno, because I go to the matinees with the old folks.) ----- The Queen Mary 2 is in town. Literally. It's docked across Newport Harbor. I might go downtown to see it pull out.
(there is also some other random cruise ship docked in Newport. The QM2 makes it look like a dinghy.)
Which made me think: I never noticed the QM2 in Milwaukee this past year... ----- yh&os,
¶ 2:03 PM133 Comments
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Ok now, let's try one all together...especially Kenny...
Yeah, um, right. You just made 1.65 billion. Might be time to head to the Range Rover dealership. Might be time to call and see if South Beach is open (p.s. - I think it is. They don't close Florida.) Might be time to get Paris Hilton's cell number.
Or, at the very least, you might want to hold your "I'm rich, beeotch" celebratory lunch at someplace else OTHER than TGI Friday's (yeah, the red and white striped awnings sort of give it away.). Try Ruths Chris or something. But you have three commas and 10 figures now. Upgrade. (D-bags.)
In honor of your business deal, and the absolute dork-fest that was that video you just posted, Eric Cartman will now use your service to sing you a song.
and also, there's no point to this link, so don't click on it.
It's Not A Vacation...Coming down off the crest of the Rt. 138 extension at about 75 mph, the windows of the luxury vehicle are down, the sun roof open, the iPod cranking something by Robbie Williams, and one of the most beautiful sights I can imagine is coming into view.
The calendar reads Columbus Day - Oct. 9 - and the temperature gauge on the S60 reads 77 degrees. In a word: perfection.
If you could bottle it for a later Winter date, you could probably make as much as the two less-than-30 somethings who just sold YouTube for 1.65 billion.
It's a perfect Fall day in the great state of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations. My home. I live here now. Rhody's not a vacation anymore. (although, as far as the DMV, office of taxation, and MetLife knows, I've ALWAYS lived here...)
Since 1993 - my freshman year in college - I've lived out of state, for the most part. Four years down the road at Fairfield, followed by one year back in Providence, then seven in New York. Coming to Rhode Island was not a long trip mileage-wise or time-wise. It didn't take long to get here from there. And, generally, I never stayed as long as I'd have wanted.
This past year in MKE, it was sorta the same. Except it didn't involve driving up the Connecticut Turnpike, getting stuck in traffic from Greenwich to Branford. It involved layovers in Cleveland or Newark.
As for the summer - the season most Rhode Island-friendly - I spent five of the 12 weekends in God's Country for some reason or another. Whether a bachelor party, wedding, or simply just to surprise my Mom, I'd ride Orbitz, Hotwire, or Priceline as far (and as cheap) as it took me. But while the trip home would always make my heart race, and the time spent here simply flawless, the flight/trip back would send me deeper into the hole. One time, the iPod karma hit me with this tune as the Continental flight zipped down the TF Green runway. Yee-ouch.
But it's home again. Home again, home again, jiggity-jig.
This past weekend, I got to drive the 25 minutes (it should be 40 minutes, but I drive wicked fast) to Providence to celebrate a friend's 31st birthday. That is, after I had dinner with my Dad, bumped into a good friend's parents at the restaurant, and had a Dunkin Donuts coffee (large hot, extra skim, one sugar) for dessert.
On Saturday, after some of the folks woke up with a slight headache (not for me, because the retirement governor is still intact), we played Grand Theft Auto for a few hours before getting something to eat on Thayer Street, and then I thought I might head home to shower and wash my tukkis. It was 5 o'clock or so...
Yesterday, I watched a Patriots game with my folks and ate a Thanksgiving-style dinner (maybe it was the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and cranberry that I probably should have had in lieu of the cheeseburger at the greasy spoon shithouse in Bozeman last November...nice planning there by the executive assistant...but I digest...)
These might seem like small things, but it's the small things that make the bigger ones possible. And the smaller things make the bigger things sweeter. When you neglect the smaller things, it can be best described as taking something for granted.
And that is something I'll never do again. I'll never take a lazy Saturday playing XBox, or a dish of General Tso's chicken at Seven Moons, or a Pats game, or going to the Ivy and realizing that the barmate was a high school classmate, or the two minute drive over Narragansett Bay as the rest of the sailing populous of New England glides by underneath...I'll never pooh-pooh that again.
Despite learning about it, and ultimately looking through it, I never realized what my ultimate concern was...what my faith was. I'm not a religious person, per se, but I know I am deeply rooted and tend to believe strongly in people, places, events, etc. Rhode Island is such a place.
These are my roots and returning here was my ultimate concern - not just for the past calendar year, but for the past decade or so. And now, it's no longer the temporary. It's not a vacation. It's home.
RIP. ----- As you might expect, I have an opinion in regards to the speculation coming out of the Toilet in the South Bronx (the South, South Bronx). And that will be forthcoming at some point this week. But here are three columns that are must-reads: Adrian Wojnarowski on how A-Rod should hit the bricks -- and -- Lisa Olsen on how there is another baseball team in New York that is still playing games...on the field.
But John Harper took a stance that I had pondered in game three. Where is the Captain? Where is the true Yankee? Where is the purported American League MVP? ----- The guys who own Google are in their mid-30's. They have 10 billion in the bank to play with. They bought YouTube for 1.65 billion. The guys who own(ed) YouTube aren't even 30 yet.
Disappointment for two movies; Anticipation high for two others
Well, since I'm going through a short period of gainful unemployment/vacation, I'm trying my best to catch up on some movies.
Saw two today. Both had high expectations, both were dull thuds.
Me, You and Everybody We Know - D-minus. Sucked. Yeah, pretty much sucked. I thought the part where the two girls...um, no, wait. Sorry. I was trying to be positive. It just sucked.
Little Miss Sunshine - B-minus. Some funny parts. Some compelling acting. Key word here: "some." I think the stories and character development lacked more than some. Overall, worth the $5.75 that me and four other elderly people paid for the 1:35 p.m. matinee. On an aside, if you've seen the movie, you can only imagine what folks in their 70's thought of it.
As for the two flicks I'm anxiously awaiting, they are The Departed and Borat. And they come out soon.
(Ms. Moakler is from Barrington, er, I mean Boreington...and do you think her dentist daddy has her Playboy spread up in his waiting room, while the soothing sounds of Blink 182's "All the Small Things" are pumped in through the ceiling speakers?)
¶ 5:20 PM2 Comments