AND I WAS TOLD THIS WOULD BE GOOD!
I Was Told There’d Be Cake
4/10
by Michelle Matthews
I might possibly be the only person on the planet who doesn’t like this book. I’ve scoured the internet in order to find one negative word spoken about Sloane Crosley, but it doesn’t exist. Her first book, I Was Told There’d Be Cake, has brought many reviewers and critics to describe her as David Sedaris-esque or as The Next Sarah Vowell. The comparisons are simply undeserved. The writing isn’t necessarily bad, but it’s far too self-conscious. She’s the type of writer who takes a description a bit too far, and while most of the time it does end up being witty, I’d say the wit is a lot more Candice Bushnell, author of Sex and the City, rather than Dorothy Parker. This description can’t be too far off base considering HBO’s been knocking at Crosley’s door in order to make a television show out of the essays (Crosley swears it’ll be more Curb Your Enthusiasm than Sex in the City, but again, I think she’s ranking herself in a higher league than she really is). It’s also really difficult for me to take seriously the sort of awkward front she gives off, having previous knowledge that she is a successful literary publicist who’s well known for having dated Moby.
While I don’t necessarily see what everyone else sees in her, I know who it is that likes her so much; it’s the technology-savvy, blog-reading, Google generation. Crosley’s essays are kind of like glorified LiveJournal posts. The essays are wordy, and read like Crosley is purposefully demonstrating her studied use of the pun and flexing her metaphor muscles. In the first essay, “The Pony Problem,” Crosley describes what her biggest fear would be if she died and her family had to go through her belongings; she’s afraid they’d find her stash of toy ponies that she manipulates each of her boyfriends into buying for her at the beginning of their relationship. She goes on to describe the relationships with her partners, and her commitment issues. Oh, I get it; the ponies aren’t just plastic expressions of affection (or possibly some incredibly selfish sick mind game she plays), but actually stand for something bigger. After she purposefully abandons the toys in a black plastic bag on a subway train (a strange move in post-9/11 NYC), she writes “I breathe a sigh of resolute relief. From now on I will make a conscious effort to remember – should I find myself face-to-face or pipe-to-skull with the end of my life – that the real proof that I have tried to love and the people have tried to love me back was never going to fit in a kitchen drawer.” Thanks for spelling that out for us, Sloane!
Truthfully, if I had read most of these pieces in the context of a blog, I would have enjoyed them a lot more. They aren’t terrible, and can be funny at times, but there’s something about having paid $14.00 in order to read them that raises the standards a little. Her work is just not mature enough. It is not as observant as Sedaris, or nearly as meticulous as Vowell. It doesn’t read like a series of essays written by a thirty-something, successful Salon-contributor/literary publicist, but instead, like the self-absorbed musings of an early-twenties, barely post-collegiate American princess.
Just OK Rover
Okkervil River - The Stand Ins
7.5/10
by Nick Torsell
You probably won’t like Okkervil River the first time you hear them, but if you listen to them enough, you will begin to appreciate the story-like lyrics that litter their new album The Stand-Ins. The lyric book for this album is well, long — probably the longest you’ve ever seen. As lead singer Will Sheff so eloquently puts it, “you’re lying if you sing along.”
Okkervil River’s newest album is a sequel to their 2007 release The Stage Names, and was originally to be released with it as a double disc. Continuing the theme from the last album, The Stand-Ins feels like you are backstage watching real-life theatrics that are more powerful than what goes on in front of the camera. The first full-length track, “Lost Coastlines,” is also the strongest. Will Sheff’s songwriting ability truly shines through on this track with outstanding lines that will surely find their way to someone’s away message. Like last album’s standout track, “Unless It’s Kicks,” the song is accessible from the very beginning. Other songs on The Stand-Ins take a little more time to appreciate, especially the introduction of “Blue Tulip” where Will Sheff’s wavering voice might turn off a few listeners. As with most songs on the album, however, there is a pay-off at the end. “Blue Tulip” ends with a flourishing guitar solo that catches the listener by surprise.
“Pop Lie” is an ironic take on the mundane drivel that is top 40 radio (cough, Jonas Brothers, cough) with lyrics like “Week by week, it climbs up and comes on, and we’re feeling alright though we know it’s all wrong,” while sounding more like pop music than ever before. The last two tracks on the album, “Calling and Not Calling My Ex” and “Bruce Wayne Campbell Interviewed On The Roof of the Chelsea Hotel, 1979,” (an indie song title if I ever saw one) end on a high note. “Bruce Wayne Campbell…,” is an especially strong song with an exhilarating crescendo that would certainly excel live.
The album has eleven tracks, but there are only eight full-length songs on The Stand-Ins, clocking in at around forty minutes, with an average song-length of five minutes each. Don’t let that deter you, however, as Okkervil River do not waste time on this album. Instead this time is used to showcase Will Sheff’s unique voice and songwriting ability. Sometimes listening to these lyrics gets to be monotonous. Words and even verses get lost in the fold of the album on the first few listens. If you have the patience for it (probably not) or are an English major or an indie snob, listening to The Stand-Ins will be a rewarding experience.
California Dreamin'
Shwayze - Shwayze
6/10
by Elina Vaysbeyn
You might have seen the show on MTV. Maybe you wondered, “Who the fuck is this?” Shwayze is the Malibu-born project of Aaron Smith, or Shwayze, and drummer/ rapper Alex Orbison. One day, the two had a spontaneous free-style, and things just spun from there. The match was made, and Shwayze materialized as the collective love-child of slothfulness, bachelorhood, and luxury.
Their recent album, Shwayze, combines the sweet lax of California with casual sex, drugs, and Coronas. The songs glorify the free-wheeling, love-dealing lifestyle, but only on the condition that the two getting laid are Shwayze and Alex. Apparently, the duo has exhibited potential, because MTV has given them their own show. The disastrous nature of every reality show is the allure of the genre, and Shwayze is no exception. Full of mishaps, it documents the dudes getting into all kinds of shenanigans, like missing a gig with the infamous Dave Navarro, legal trouble, and other dude stuff.
Shwayze could be a watered-down Sublime, sans heroin and the political undertones. “Lazy days in Los Angeles/ if it ain’t your parents, it’s the damn police,” croons Shwayze, and it’s almost soporific, unless you’re listening to the lyrics. Their slow west coast drawl and acoustic guitars have created quite the buzz. They’re a bunch of grown up mallrats and beach bums. They just want to get high, and they don’t mind if you’re there to do it with them. Maybe that’s why their music isn’t failing miserably. Maybe we just want to be right there, hanging out on a bench at the beach, gazing out at the Pacific, smokin’ roaches, and watching chicks walk by in biker shorts and cut off tops. “I met her at a backyard, block party/ by the bar, and she kept lookin’ at me/ like she knew who I was,” Shwayze’s chorus from “Buzzin” describes their carefree existence as Malibu’s party boys. They let us into their world completely, and despite it being admittedly a shallow and somewhat sexist world, it’s a fun place to drop in on.
People complain about hip hop being misogynistic, but in “Polaroid,” Orbison serenely raps, “Yo, uh, at a party on the beach/ I was smokin like cheech/ scopin out a hot piece of ass I’m a creep/ getting head while the radio speaks/ popped like the bubble in these sneaks.” A thorough analysis of the lyrics on their self-titled debut would anger more than a few feminists, but I’m no radical. And I happen to like hip hop. And I think I kind of like Shwayze.
The beat flows like the liquor they rap about, and their rhymes are kind of amateur, but they don’t put on any airs about being a couple of burn outs who have just earned rock star status. Shwayze is for the listless, for the unassuming, and the extremely blazed.
A ninjas, castles, and bears, oh my!
Castle Crashers {XBox 360)
9.5/10
by Ryan Mallette
Castle Crashers is a frantically paced, fight fest available for the Xbox 360’s Xbox Live Arcade platform. Developed by indie studio, The Behemoth, who are relatively well known for their previous effort, Alien Hominid, Castle Crashers continues the retro aesthetics that the studio has become popular for.
You begin on your journey in the game as one of four color-coded, noble knights with separate elemental magic attacks. A wizard has nabbed your kingdom’s royal crystal whilst every other territory in the country has decided it would be a prime time to rain on your parade. Our heroes set off after the cretins make off with the king’s four beautiful daughters, hilariously dragging and tying one of the daughters by her face. The king assists you at random times during your ordeal, leading his army of soldiers into the frontlines, and even helping you blast a giant catfish with his cannon.
The game features many diverse levels, ranging from caves to stagecoaches, to flower fields. Castle Crashers is a beautiful throwback to the beat-em-up classics of yesteryear like The Simpson’s Arcade Game, Streets of Rage, and River City Ransom. The game takes this old recipe and adds a few of its own ingredients, making the old new again. They implement a character-building system, similar to that of a role-playing game. If there is a boss you are having trouble defeating on your first go, you can exit the level and add on the skill points that you earned by slaying all of his friends, consequently returning to teach the enemy a lesson. Magic spells grow more powerful as well and become your best ally when multiple enemies hope to take your head at once. This can be an often occurrence, as you’ll frequently encounter ambushes of 15 or so enemies.
The game’s only drawbacks come with its fighting. It can be hard to line up attacks with singular enemies, as they have to be directly in front of your paper-thin protagonist. Enemies can also have cheap attack patterns (archers especially), giving you little chance to evade another attack upon falling from the last one when there are many enemies around.
Over 20 unlockable characters are featured in the game, including The Behemoth’s own Alien Hominid, all of which are completely upgradeable with their own special attacks. Ninjas and bears also help round out this list, but unfortunately, there are no ninjabears.
Dan Paladin brings his signature art style to the game, projecting the game’s visual appeal through hand drawn characters and non-repetitive backgrounds. The characters are very similar to Nintendo’s Paper Mario series, thick black lines and two dimensional creatures are throughout. The sense of chaos is brought to cartoon reality with the over the top use of blood, limb loss, and particle effects. The animations are smooth, beautiful, and can rival any cartoon on television.
Aside from its fantastic sense of humor, the best part of the game is its multiplayer. Like many of the old arcade games of the same genre, Castle Crashers is a wonderfully messy four-player game. You will find your friends laughing alongside you as you fight over kills, gold, and even murder each other for a kiss from a freshly rescued princess. For the $15 price tag, Castle Crashers is well worth the price instead of a case of beer.
Do Not Bother
Do Not Disturb
3.5/10
by John Hugar
Here’s a rule of thumb for you: if you’re watching a comedy on Fox, and its not animated, it sucks. Over the years, Fox has given us such mediocrity as ‘Til Death, Back to You, Greg the Bunny, and my personal favorite, Stacked. It seems that for every gem like Arrested Development, we get several piles of dogshit that get cancelled after ten episodes (‘Til Death is still on the air, I have absolutely no idea why). Sadly, their latest entry, Do Not Disturb does absolutely nothing to break this trend. It’s yet another mediocre sitcom that I can’t picture anyone giving two shits about.
The lead actor on the show is Jerry O’Connell, probably best known for banging Rebecca Romijn, and starring in 2003’s so-horrible-it’s-actually-pretty-funny Kangaroo Jack. In Do Not Disturb, he plays a playboy hotel manager who struggles to keep it in his pants and fails miserably (yeah, I know, what a stretch). It co-stars Niecy Nash (Reno 911) as his assistant. She’s likeable enough, but not the slightest bit original. Frankly, it’s a terrible waste of a very funny actress. The show co-stars Molly Stanton, Robert Wagner, and Jolene Purdy. Unfortunately, there characters were so inconsequential, I don’t remember too much about them. Suffice it to say, none of them are anything special.
My big beef with this show, beyond the one-dimensional characters, is the fact that it’s simply not funny. Even the jokes that made me chuckle a little bit felt lame and forced, and like I had already heard them before on better sitcoms. The writers want so badly to have the humor of Friends or Will & Grace, but they miss the mark by a fairly wide margin. I’m not the only one who felt this way. The pilot rated so bad when screened for critics, they actually replaced it with another, apparently better epsiode, which was what I watched. Well, if this was the best they could offer, I’m not too enthusiatic about next week.
So, if this show is so horrible, why not give it a zero? Well, it’s not like I was ever offended by its mediocrity; it’s a perfectly fine show to have on in the background. The pilot, directed by Arrested Development’s Jason Bateman, featured no really big laughs, and I can’t see any reason to give a shit about the lives of these characters. There is a chance that, with improved writing, and better use of Niecy Nash’s talent, this show could have a future. That being said, if it becomes another early season casualty, you won’t hear me complaining. For me, watching this show really proved that the traditional sitcom is dead.
Face it. The modern TV landscape has no place for the typical laugh-tracked TV comedy. The humor on these shows, while it may have been fresh and even shocking in the 80’s, now just seems stale and boring. The fact is, the most successful, and more importantly, the funniest shows on the air are the ones that do away with the laugh tracks, and let the audience discover the jokes for themselves (30 Rock, The Office). More importantly, sitcom writers need to stop recycling the same weak jokes and plot lines, and breathing fresh life into this middling genre.
