Briefly, we want to remind you of a few weeks back when we discussed the possible successor to Jimmy Fallon as host of Late Night. The rumor at the time – and still presumed favorite – is that Seth Meyers will take over in Studio 6B. However, we voiced our opposition to that plan, with no disrespect to the vastly talented and incredibly charming Meyers. Instead, we felt it best if the show went a different direction. Specifically, West, to Los Angeles, where it could mine some of that coast’s best and underutilized talent. Well, yesterday Comedy Central basically announced plans to do just that, with the news surfacing that they’ve tapped Chris Hardwick to host a late night talk show following The Colbert Report, the net’s first real foray into traditional late night programming. With Hardwick, the Nerdist impresario, you have that young, cutting edge, hip LA talent that we talked about, the Nerdist podcast network including comedians like Kurt Braunholer, Pete Holmes and TJ Miller. Possibly even more important than gaining access to the Nerdist family, the show will be executive produced by Reno 911 creators and The State alums Tom Lennon and Ben Garant, with additional involvement from the folks at Funny or Die. So, essentially, this show links up most of Los Angeles’ best, funniest, talent all in one place. What a deep pool of talent to pool from. Too bad NBC couldn’t think of this first.
Tag Archives: MTV
Ahead of the premiere of the twenty-eighth (!) season of The Real World, set somewhat curiously in Portland, MTV has scheduled a weekend marathon of three “classic” seasons of the trailblazing reality show. Starting Friday night at 8pm MTV will air the first entry in the series, the groundbreaking Real World: New York, followed by the booze and sex soaked Las Vegas season Saturday at 2pm, and rounded out by the Puck and Pedro-fronted season three, Real World: San Francisco, beginning 8am Sunday. While we applaud the selection of NY and SF as 66.6% of the marathon, we cannot support the further promulgation of Las Vegas, especially at the expense of more worthy, important, less debaucherous seasons like Los Angeles, New Orleans, Seattle, or even the underrated Miami.
Choosing New York to lead off the marathon is a no-brainer. It was not just the first season of the long-running series, it defined what the series would be. Like Richard Hatch on the maiden season of Survivor, The Real World: New York set the mold for what this show would be, and, in many ways, set the course for Reality TV for the next twenty years. It’s cultural relevance and impact cannot be understated. Likewise for San Francisco, which was even more captivating and controversial for its inclusion of Pedro, an HIV positive Cuban-American, and Puck, a bellicose bike messenger with questionable hygiene and even more questionable social skills. This season – with its portrayal of a gay man (living, not dying) with AIDS and the caustic, boorish punk who alienated his housemates to the point of eviction – truly launched the show, and as well as awareness of the deadly disease, into the public consciousness, establishing The Real World as an MTV institution and a cultural phenomenon with immense significance. Nearly ten years later, Las Vegas began to undo everything that San Francisco and its peers has established.
Last night Prince Fielder became only the second player to win the MLB Home Run Derby twice, equaling the feat achieved by Ken Griffey, Jr (whose success in the event can no doubt be attributed to the freedom to wear his Mariners cap in his preferred backwards position, enlivening him and providing optimal comfort in the batter’s box). The derby itself, taking place at the Kansas City ballpark that most of the country just learned is named Kauffman Stadium, was an interminable display that painfully reflected the American ideal of bigger is better, an incessant cacophony of bombastic, intolerable, verging on nauseating home run calls (the half-life on Chris Berman’s “back, back, back, back….GONE!” is exactly two). Three hours into it, and there we still were for some reason, watching Prince Fielder and runner-up Jose Bautista tee-off on meatballs lobbed in by AARP-card carrying batting practice pitchers (or, in Robinson Cano’s case, disappointed fathers). One can only watch baseballs be launched into centerfield fountains so many times before the tweens earnestly but unsuccessfully shagging pop flies quickly become vastly more entertaining. We freely admit that there was a time when we were once highly engaged in the Home Run Derby. But now, what we wouldn’t give for Roger McDowell and a cow in right field.
But it wasn’t just our yearning for something more exciting and less vacant that reminded us of MTV’s Rock N’ Jock Softball. We couldn’t help watch Prince Fielder deposit ball after ball into the right field stands and not remember first seeing him as a young boy accompanying his father Cecil “Big Daddy” Fielder at those true mid-summer classics. Unfortunately, as Grantland notes in its superb primer on the halcyon days of Rock N’ Jock, video of those games is stunningly difficult to find online. You can spot Cecil in the starting lineup during the Star Spangled Banner in one of the earlier match-ups, but that’s about it. Other than that brief appearance, tragically, there’s no video evidence that Cecil was a Salamander or an Aardvark, let alone any footage from those MTV broadcasts that show a young baseball prodigy named Prince, and we’re all losers for it.
However, there is some proof of Prince’s early talent. However, this phenom ability was found in throwing a baseball, not sending it 440 feet with a Louisville Slugger, as illustrated by this 1992 McDonald’s commercial with Cecil.
Although Prince is on the other side of the ball in this commercial he still comes out on top. Burger royalty then, baseball royalty now.
Keeping with today’s theme, we’re going to address the recent rumblings about Queen Latifah’s sexuality. Last month word spread across the blogosphere that Queen Latifah declared herself a lesbian at the Long Beach Pride Festival on May 19th. But she later denied those reports, explaining that her unity with the gay community does not necessarily equate with her coming out of the closet, and she refuses to comment further either way. And we respect her feelings on the matter and her preference to keep her private life private. But we don’t care either way; you be you, Queen. What do know, however, is that the girl can play ball, for whatever that’s worth.
Take a look at this classic highlight from the 1994 MTV Rock’n’Jock B-Ball Jam and draw your own conclusions. Or don’t. Or do and keep them to yourself. That’s your right too.
Also, Dan Cortese.
Jason Sudeikis proved himself a songsmith and a piano man, and, perhaps more importantly, showed with his subtle but unmistakable bite and subversion that he’s maybe not ready to join the Hollywood Elite that this awards show falls all over itself to celebrate. It wasn’t Gervais territory, but it seemed that Suds wasn’t afraid to bite the hand that feeds.
Best part:Vodpod videos no longer available.
The rest of the show featured Twilight winning pretty much every award, save for the insipid “Best Line From a Movie” statue, which at least went to a seven-year-old, hopefully shaming the award from ever appearing again.
But we have to admit, despite our seething disdain for Twilight (admittedly having never seen the movies or read the books), we can’t help but really, really admire Kristen Stewart, if only because she seems to be straining ever fiber of her being not to say “fuck you” to everyone in the audience, including her fans. She’s always genuinely awkward amongst a sea of people who feign awkwardness, and she seems to grasp just how ridiculous this show is, and by extension the whole Hollywood machine. Kristen, you’re okay by us!
A few months back we were drawn into MTV’s Teen Mom 2 for a number of reasons. There was Kailyn, the Target employee who was living in her baby daddy’s parent’s basement. There was Leah and her fiance Corey, who must endure a physical malady affecting of one their adorable twin daughters. And there was Chelsea, the Teen Mom who kicked her loyal best friend out of the house in favor of her toolbag boyfriend, who, in fact, may not own a shirt.
But what truly caught our attention was Teen Mom Jenelle, and more specifically her explosive, expletive-laden relationship with her mother Barbara. And we couldn’t stop thinking to ourselves “Who does Barbara remind us of?” And finally it came to us. The answer, we’re pleased to announce, is Megan Mullally’s Lydia in Party Down. See?
Go ahead. Compare and contrast.