Alicia vs Mashonda?  Who will you choose?  Can’t we both just make them into Pokemon cards and have some kids play them by yelling dumb moves at each other?  Ain’t no women should be beefing over that cricket Swizz Beatz.  The Superwoman now speaks!  (Vibe Magazine)

Tell me again, exactly what leg does Chris Brown have to stand on?  Of course you wanted to keep it private: no one who wails on their partner exactly wants to go around telling people “Hey, this is my bitch. Yeah ok, I beat her up.  Aw, don’t worry, it’s cool, said I’m sorry.  (turns to partner) Oh, babe, by the way, your mouth is oozing blood, I think you need some tissues.”  (Bossip)

Serena freaks the eff out, cusses some folk out, gets slapped with a fine, and possible probation from the U.S. Open.  Poor Serena? No, she still gets to go home and get put to bed by Common.  I somehow think she’ll be fine.  (The New York Times)

Tiger’s fine, and he says he’s sorry.  He stands by his wife, Elin, who’s now facing a possible domestic violence charge.  And Tiger still wants to say he’s not black?  Funny: he has a white wife, they got into a fight, she beat him up, and now they’re cool.  I feel like some people think ya can’t act blacker than that! (lol) (Vibe Magazine)

(photo courtesy the Blackroc website, www.blackroc.com)

Hey guys. Extremely busy so again falling behind with the posts. But I DID go see KiD CuDi at the Kool Haus in Toronto on Saturday (BIG thanks and love to Angelique Knights of Flow 93.5 for helping us out, I owe you one!)  So, ya know, I clearly have some gushing to do.  Am I gonna rave, or rant? That part, well you’ll have to wait to see.  Be patient, bitches.

In the meantime, I’m doing it Quickies-style and giving some tidbits just to keep you mildly entertained for a bit.  I hope you like my offerings!  But no Quickie for this one, cuz frankly it deserves a bit of a mini-essay.

If you’ve been reading The R consistently enough, you’ll know that I’ve been listening to the Blakroc album for almost two weeks now.  Just in case you don’t know your hip hop (shame on you) or live under some kind of rock, or just prefer to spend your time deconstructing Adam Lambert’s boring, subpar performance on the AMA’s that brought all the secret homophobes outta the woodwork just long enough to get his GMA gig cancelled … Black Keys have just dropped their Blakroc album.  A proper fusion of rock and rap, done just the way it’s supposed to be done: all instruments and a collection of some of the best music-loving MC’s in hip hop.

Their video for the first single off of their self-titled album, “Nothing Like You (Hoochie Coo)” should be enough to satisfy your palate, for now.  Bringing together Mos Def and Jim Jones on a blues track??  Live shooting in the studio?  Split screen, a la Lauryn Hill’s “Doo Wop (That Thing) video?  I’ve seen enough.  And there’s more on the album, if you’re into the MC cameo list more than the actual music -which is, by the way, some of the best rock I’ve heard since the 1970′s.  Rza (!!!) is on it, and so are Luda, Raekwon, Pharoahe Monch, ODB (argh!!!), Q-Tip referring to some chick as a “tenderoni” (loving, can’t breathe from sheer excitement), Billy Danze of M.O.P. and Nicole Wray (I am ready to pass out at this point).

Can we just take a moment to reflect on my fave on the list: Mos?  Mos is one of the most creative minds in hip hop I’ve ever seen.  Such talent, I love it.  Such a huge crush.

Please, please, if you do anything today, go search-engine the Blakroc album, at the very least I’m sure you can stream it from somewhere.  Try Hype Machine maybe?  (Link’s on my Blogroll).  Time at work well-wasted, and welcomingly so, I’m sure.

If you really want them, like crying tears of want, and can’t find them, I’ve got all the tracks.  You know what to do, lovers.

The R Word: Rave. What Limp BizKit THOUGHT they coulda pulled off, except they were fronted by a complete douchebag.  Oh yeah, and their music SUCKED.  Black Keys know their f*ckin rock n roll.

Image by © Underwood & Underwood/CORBIS

So, I caved and went to see This Is It with my family last weekend.  I removed my intense cynicism about the exploitation of MJ’s memory and just gave in, and I’m immensely glad I did.  I danced in my seat.  I was awed.  I almost teared up … almost.  All in all, This Is It functioned as the King of Pop’s redemption, his validation.  It served to remind you, and those who chose to forget, and those who chose to believe the awful things they heard about it, that he was a force to be reckoned with.  Kenny Ortega gently reminded us that there was no other, is no other, and never will be another entertainer like Michael Jackson.  I smell a DVD purchase …

But despite all the moments of pure joy I experienced watching This Is It, none got me in quite the way that the reworking of “Smooth Criminal” did.  Not because I was obsessed with “Smooth Criminal,” and knew the long and short version of it.  Not because I knew, and still know, most of the moves.  But because Michael had enough class and taste, and enough of a respect for the Golden Era of film to rework and reinterpret the “Smooth Criminal” video to include that seminal moment in film: Rita Hayworth, sexpot extraordinaire and undercover Spaniard, in Gilda, singing and coochie-cooing and making everyone blissfully uncomfortable with the sexy number “Put The Blame on Mame.”  It remains, to this day, one of my favourite movie moments.

The R Word: Rave. Damn, they really don’t make celebrities like this anymore.  I lament the changing of tides, but I always have Gilda, and Rita Hayworth’s hair, to see me through.

(photo courtesy Dum Spiro Spero, http://elventryst.blogspot.com)

As I sit in my home in Trinidad, soaking up the sun, chowin down on some amazing food and being spoiled by my family, I’ve had a lot of time to ponder about life, and the world I live in, and what it all really means.  It’s been a fun trip but it’s also been one of soul-searching, and coming to terms with my home, my past, my present and my future.  So, sorry I’ve become lazy with the posting again – if you were in a 40 degree climate with bright blue skies, beautiful people and delicious food, I know you would too.  I beg your forgiveness. “Doh beat meh!”

Over the past few days, I’ve been a real sponge, keeping up with my international news as usual, but also rediscovering my home and my legacy.  My return to Trinidad has yielded some great finds and some not-so-great finds.  I’ve reconnected with great friends and my loving family, but I’ve also noticed that Trinidad, never one to be caught dead without “the latest,” has been experiencing some intense racial issues.  I find myself questioning whether or not I was cognizant of it before, whether I was blissfully ignorant, or whether this is some kinda regression into an ugly racial past that it shares with most of the world.  As a result, I’ve become more in touch with my blackness, that part of me that is undeniably black and refuses to let the ugly I hear in the world affect my sense of pride.  Black, my dears, it seems, is no longer considered beautiful.

Gone is our heyday, that precious stretch of time in the late 1960s and the 1970s, when we just woke up as a race and said, simply, “enough.”  There was a time when it was cool to eschew the damaging chemical relaxers and skin whintening creams, a time where we all danced and sang “Say it loud! I’m BLACK and I’m PROUD!”  Instead, it has been replaced by a fragmented pride – we’re still divided, we still have our detractors that exist within our own race, and yet we still have those who love us, our legacy, the contributions we’ve made to this world, and all the good that we do.  But, the good doesn’t sell papers and doesn’t get press (well, except for, you-kn0w-who).

So, after a morning of reading this article in The Washington Post, about Chinese views of black people, the colour of our skin (which still seems to bother so many of us in this world, including us), our legacy and the fact that many in this world consider everything about us ugly, I have been a bit down.  Because of all the turmoil going on in the world right now, the fact that money has disappeared and countries are now in a power struggle to rule supreme on this planet … well, racism is able to rear its ugly head again and can now go, for the most part, unchecked.  And while I hate racism in general, with every fibre of my being, nothing hurts more than hearing awful things about my own race.  Call me a softie, but it genuinely hurts, and  I take it personally.

But then, I stopped by my new favourite mag’s website, Au Courant Magazine, and saw that they had posted the video I’ve embedded below.  It is the late great designer and couturier Yves Saint Laurent, waxing philosophical about black models.  Any black woman (or man!) who wants to call themselves a fashionista must surely know about the long struggle our race has had within the industry, especially where the use of black models is concerned.  ”They don’t sell.”  ”They’re not as marketable as white models.”  And, my favourite, “they’re not pretty enough.”  Smh.

Watch how, simply and with a quiet dignity that he always made part of his public persona, Yves Saint-Laurent praises us.  It made me smile.  It uplifted me, and I hope it does the same for you.  And those glasses, they’re back in, and I’m due for a new pair.

So, now, when I hear the awful things, and I witness the ugly, and I read articles about ignorance and lines like “black people, especially Africans, are not clean enough” (see Washington Post article) … well, I can ignore it all.  I can tune it out.  I can focus on YSL, and Grace Jones, Barack Obama, Michael Lee Chin, my own mother, Duro Olowu, Tracie Thoms, Benjamin Banneker, George Washington Carver, Dr Eric Williams, Martin Luther King, Rebecca Cole, Oprah, Chris Rock, Kofi Annan, Naomi Campbell, Jay-Z, Rosa Parks, Ozwald Boateng, the Williams sisters, Veronica Webb, Arthur Ashe, Gael Monfils … and the list continues.

I’m going to do some laps in the pool now, then relax and lounge on the deck with my iPod and the Blackroc album.  Did you get your hands on the leak?  I can help you out.  But first …

I usually average thousands of words per day, but with less and less time on my hands, I fall behind.  I love being able to write items that are well thought-out, well-written and meaningful.  I hate poor grammar, bad spelling, and shitty blogs that only posts pictures and 4-sentence blurbs.  Not my thing.

The R is never going to become one of those blogs.  I’m not letting it happen.  BUT, quantity does matter, and I know that, hence my new thing: Quickies.  Get your minds out of the gutter.  Quickies are just short, intriguing, and always thought-provoking items – usually links to other sites – that I think might interest you.  Not meant to replace my longer stuff, just … something to munch on, if you’re feeling peckish.  Like snacks.  Don’t worry, you’ll still get some food though …

(photo courtesy What Would Tyler Durden Do www.wwtdd.com)

Someone needs to stop Beyonce.  Soon. Or, you know, just hold her down and put some freakin’ pants on her.  The reason I rag on Beyonce so much  … well, the reasons are simply endless.  She’s pure entertainment.  The unsexy, overdoin’-it dance moves, the misguided-yet-meant-to-be-funky-and-edgy outfits, the Mariah Carey wind machines, it’s all too much.

By the way, B: I know you’re happy you’ve lost some weight and your body looks “great” and all, but … Houston, we have a problem.  Come get your citizen, STAT.BIG NIGHT TONIGHT!  It’s about time, I’ve been waiting for this since February.  20/20 with Diane Sawyer, ABC, 10pm (11pm for all countries not on Daylight Savings Time).  Rihanna looks beautiful, speaks eloquently and honestly (?) about what happened, while the world watches.

One of the dirtiest videos out right now – Girls’ “Lust For Life” – VERY VERY NSFW (Not Safe For Work) and not for the homophobic nor squeamish nor closed-minded.

You wanted me to be more relevant, you got it.

I usually don’t address gossip on this site.  It’s mindless and requires little to no brain matter, hence why it’s left for the lesser intelligent of us.  That’s not what I’m here to do with this, and moreover I’m not the kind of person who endorses gossip.  I don’t enable it, I rarely am on that chain of people who spreads it, and I usually forget most of what is whispered to me within less than a day because, with the risk of sounding like a snob, I actually have better and more important things to do.

A reliable source confirmed to me and a couple of the kids over at The Angry Pothound early this week that this new story was supposed to hit the scene in Trinidad: that former Miss Universe contender, Pilar designer, and generally upstanding T&T citizen Anya Ayoung-Chee had a very naughty sex tape floating around, and that someone has just busted it online, and that it would be only a matter of hours before the story exploded.

Well, we didn’t even have to wait, because ten minutes into our conversation, we were alerted to the fact that certain people were already putting it up as a Facebook status (lame) and blasting it all over their Twitter accounts and various social media outlets (double lame).  The finger-jockey courage … it’s crazy, I’m telling you.  Do we have nothing better to do, people?

SIDE NOTE: If you’ve been a regular visitor to The R, then you will know that I constantly say that good taste is dead, and trash is alive and well these days.  It’s true.  There’s too much of everything, we live in times of complete excess.  It’s a counter-argument for the realities of recession and the fact that there’s so little money actually circulating in the global economy compared to how much once did.  People also get bored, and crave an effective escape.  Check and see which products and industries are managing to stay afloat: drugs, alcohol, shit talk … you know, all the trashy stuff we love to partake in, then pretend to abhor.

Pam Anderson and Tommy Lee were the first to create a “celebrity sex tape” back in the 90′s.  At the time, they claimed it had been stolen from their house.  The amount of press they got as a result was amazing.  It was also much-needed, at a time when both their careers had pretty much stalled.

Fast-forward to 2009, more than 10 years later, and everyone who’s anyone has taken notes out of the Lees’ book.  Sex sells, and they managed to prove it.  So, more and more substandard, B-list and C-list (and Z-list) “talent” began having sex tapes that “leaked” (read: were sent over, possibly anonymously, by these people or their equally fame-hungry publicists).  If you read any pop culture news, then you’ll know that there’s a sex tape out every, hmmm, week or so.  It’s according to who’s in it that gets higher points on the scale, but it always gets them some press time and some pub for at least a week or two.  Great push if you’re releasing a project, or just want some paparazzi face time because you’re an attention-whore.

Anya Ayoung-Chee has a brand to support, true.  But she’s also a well-known, well-connected woman on the scene and chances are this wasn’t what she intended to have happen.  Like I said to my source: Trinidad is not ready for that sort of thing, we’re a country full of prudes.  We’ll do anything behind closed doors and spout something totally different when we’re around others.  It’s the hubris we all cling to.  It’s getting bad.

Whether this is an intentional leak (because Trinis love nothing more than being fadwhores and follow-fashions), or the revenge of a mean-spirited acquaintance … who cares?  She’s young, she’s well-known, she’s successful, she’s bright, she’s wealthy, she makes some great clothes … and because it’s a small country, she’s accessible.  People will undoubtedly flap their gums, which was completely expected.

For some reason, I was in no way shocked.  Neither were the kids at The Angry Pothound, and neither was my source.  Not because of who it was, but simply because sex tapes don’t grab the headlines that they used to, and we’re smart enough to know this.  They’ve been done.  They’re passé.  Even writing this now, I am yawning.  It’s really not a hot enough story – what’s hot here, at least for me, is people’s behaviour and reactions.  Because, honestly, do we really care that much about what gets off someone that we don’t even know? (Most of the people whose comments I read, by the way, have never met Chick and never spoken to her.  But that’s the way the ladder goes, right?)

No seriously, do you really care that much about this?

The R Word: Rant.  I KNOW Trinidad has better headlines than this.  I’ve heard something about a TT$2 million flag and a dictator prime minister?

When you're posing with CoCo, your stock drops and your clock starts ticking PRETTY quick. (photo courtesy Bossip)

Two Rihanna posts in a row. Don’t worry, this won’t be happening again.

Le sigh. RiRi’s just released her brand spankin’ new vid for “Wait Your Turn (The Wait is Ova),” the second (?) single off her highly-anticipated Rated R album. Now, before my fellow cynics get snippy, note that I said “highly-anticipated,” making sure to clarify that I haven’t been waiting, because frankly I have never waited for a Rihanna album and I have yet to wait for one. Perhaps when her music and the production on her tracks improves …

But, I am all over the videos. It’s part of my passion for the moving image. Feature films can rarely offer creativity, and short-form videos (music vids included) are really much more interesting and imaginative anyway, especially these days. So, when my friend Zani bbm’d me “The wait is ova!” (all puns intended), and sent along the Youtube link, I kinda felt like I had to watch. Also because people are getting mad because I don’t post enough, or I’m not all over every item floating around in pop culture, or when I post I’m too harsh, or too soft. Guess, like RiRi, I too cannot please everyone with my choices, haha!

Today, it’s a grey, crappy day in Toronto. I’m home today, and my head’s pounding right now as I’m still under the weather. Pathetic fallacy abounds. And so, I feel like being harsh today, and so luckily Rihanna’s career gets to suffer too.

The song fucking sucks. The video?  Trite. Any and all attempts at edginess fall flat, as usual with Rihanna. “Good girl gone bad,” my foot: there’s nothing badass about taking shots from your teenage boyfriend, then refusing to comment on it for NINE MONTHS, much to the dismay of your fans (especially the abused ones); then singing substandard hip hop/R&B hooks on every track you’re offered, just to stay relevant; then releasing your own substandard tracks; and then finally agreeing to talk to Diane Sawyer not because you care about your fans, but because you need publicity for your new album. Because, make no mistake: if this album fails numbers-wise, RiRi is going to have to take a nice, long break from releasing music. No savvy manager or agent would advise otherwise.

The overexposure is hitting boiling point. Everyone’s saying it. I, for one, am completely exhausted by seeing Rihanna everywhere when I make my daily news and pop culture news rounds, when in reality, she is not producing anything of merit that warrants the press she gets. Moreover, she’s steadily refused to talk about “that night,” which is the only thing people have wanted to hear from her since February, and now that she’s going to on 20/20 there isn’t much room to move from there. Because the only thing RiRi has to offer these days is buzz. Buzz, and no substance. It’s like being satisfied with cutting through crab shell only to find tiny scraps of meat that just can’t satisfy your hunger, no matter how much of it you might eat. Well, I know Rihanna never had substance, but at least her team attempted to inject her image with some during her Good Girl Gone Bad heyday. Now, it seems like they’ve all just gotten lazy, content to rest on their laurels because people are stupid and have low standards. It doesn’t take much of anything to impress the huddled masses these days.

If you want me to get more detailed about just how much I loathe this song and video …

1) Rihanna cannot fucking sing. Now, this I’m actually cool with, as I like a lot of vocalists and frontwomen who don’t have great voices: Janet Jackson, Eleanor Jackson (of La Roux), Britney Spears, OLD pre-sellout Nelly Furtado (ever heard her live? awful), and M.I.A. come to mind. The deep, guttural register RiRi is working with here in the verses sounds absolutely terrible. It’s painfully embarrassing to listen to, especially because this is a finished, mastered version and yet STILL sounds like something J.Lo would have pumped out back in the day. But at least J.Lo had/has some form of personality, whether you liked it or not. The point here is: Don’t attempt vocal gymnastics if you don’t have the pipes for it.

2) While I don’t expect everyone to sound like Adele and Beyonce, I still expect you to bring something else of interest to the table. Sensationalism. Rough beginnings. A difficult childhood. A dirty big ego. Heartbreak. A “foot-in-mouth” persona. A genuinely bad (not contrived-bad) attitude. SOMETHING. Carefully crafted “edgy” outfits conjured up by a very good, very silent stylist (to make it look as if you dress yourself) and endless paparazzi pics do not a music career make. Rihanna has always been just a blank slate – I’ve hardly ever seen two different facial expressions from her. Aren’t we in the middle of the worst global recession we’ve seen since The Great Depression? What happened to cutting the fat? Seems like Rihanna is now part of “the fat” we need to cut – along with The Simpson sisters, the still-lurking overpaid fat cat execs in EVERY industry, BET, the Kardashians, almost all MTV programming, those Hills morons, Amber Rose (ew), Katy Perry, the Cyrus family, and whoever insists on keeping Fox News alive.

3) THE FUCKING CROTCH GRAB AT 0:38. It stopped shocking people in 1992. There’s high school seniors and a few superbright college kids younger than this move. Trite.

4) The cropped, hooded chinchilla coat belongs on Cam’ron, Ghostface Killah, or more appropriately on Queen Pen whom Rihanna seems to be channeling, circa her “No Diggety” days. From one Grammy winner to another, right? Not to mention that PETA will probably see this and schedule a paint-throw photo op REAL soon. (Please see video below for the funniest PETA attack I’ve seen in a while.)

5) The complete lack of coolness and/or smoothness genuinely kills me. Rihanna looks so forced and awkward doing some of these moves that I cringe with fontrum every time. It’s completely incredible. My favourites are at the following marks -0:15, 0:20, 1:03, 1:41 and 3:37. Please let The R know if you actually are gullible enough to believe that RiRi is a bad bitch, because I just may be able to help you with that. Seriously. I am totally fed up of the overuse and misuse of the term “bad bitch.” Rihanna is NOT a bad bitch, nor are any of the other “I’m famous for doing almost nothing” chicks aimlessly floating around the celebrity world. Maybe Nicki Minaj, but that’s still under review. In “The Wait is Ova,” I’m about as scared of Rihanna as I am the gang members in the Michael Jackson “Bad” video, with their West Side Story dancefight moves. Oooh, CB, you’d better watch out!

6) The blonde and black mohawk/undercut … I cannot endorse here. I’m all for edge and originality and weird shit fashion-wise, but just … no.  Besides, the hipster-inspired head shaving is so 2 years ago.  Why is hip hop so late with the subculture trends these days?  Remember Jay-Z rocking big black plastic frames about a year or two too late?  All kinds of wack.

7) Please note the heavy Bajan accent, which was a production decision meant to please and/or impress … well, nobody. As a West Indian, I’m not impressed by its convenient use here to make Rihanna seem tough and “hard.”  Where was this accent before?  Why is it so pronounced now?  It is because Rihanna “gets real” when she’s angry?  Like Lafayette says, “Hooker, PLEASE.”

Anyway, I’ve said all I can muster up for now. Here, from The R to you, is “The Wait is Ova.” Also take a look at the hilarious PETA attack video below. “Fur hag! She wear fur!” I’m still dying of laughter.

The R Word: Rant. Rihanna needs to pull up and come again, much like a hot party track on an urban radio station.

UPDATE: Removed the RiRi vid, couldn’t deal with the fact that it automatically started playing every time I logged on. Yeah, you’re welcome.

(photo courtesy Vibe, http://www.vibe.com/mt/2009/10/singled-out-rihanna-russian-roulette/)

It’s the beginning of Rihanna season, as the singer prepares to release her next album, Rated R.  Today, the blogs are alive with the sound of music, as everyone’s all over the release of single numero uno “Russian Roulette.”

I have a bone to pick with some of these creative heads and songwriters in the industry.  Rated R?  ”Russian Roulette?”  Really? They couldn’t come up with better, more imaginative names for some of this material?  Or is the demand end to blame?  People really seem to like this corny, pun-riddled crap.  I can’t – it leaves no room for my intense cynicism.  Must … ridicule … must … criticize.

Anyway, I digress.  Rihanna hasn’t excited me for a long time (I blame the overexposure), and she doesn’t excite me now with this single.  I applaud Ne-yo’s songwriting efforts for creativity and depth in terms of lyrical content, but these R&B power ballad beats bore me to tears.  Tears, I tell you!  But I suppose that’s the thing with the power ballad – you either love that kind of music, or you don’t.  I will just simply chalk it up to the style of music not being my thing.  I don’t hate it, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not about to suggest it to people to add to their playlists.

But, I am excited to hear more from the album.  Although I can’t stand most of her music, I genuinely like Rihanna.  Personally, I think her talents and strengths perhaps lie outside of the music world.  I would love to see her doing some designing, or even some styling.   I don’t like most celebrity lines, other than Twenty8Twelve (lovelovelove the Spring 2010 RTW collection), but I would LOVE to see a Rihanna line, perhaps a teaming-up with some great designers; after all, she’s a fashion world darling, and we know she has the contacts and the weight.  The girl has an eye, it’s just that her lack of personality just does not do it for me on the music front – besides, why not make the space for someone fresh and new, someone a tad more interesting?

However, I must say, I am not feeling the new dancehall-queen-like direction her wardrobe has taken, especially not the eyepatch-wearing and the slicked back, brown and black pompadour/undercut/I don’t know.  Rihanna by day, fierce pirate or passa passa dancer by night?  Your call.  I just miss her pre-”Run This Town” style, that’s all.

Anyway, here is “Russian Roulette” for those of you who haven’t already heard it.  Take a listen below.  Our thoughts?

The R Word: Rant.  I’m sooooo bored, you guys.

(photo courtesy Insequential)

Almodóvar is back and he’s back with Pene (and Blanca Portillo of Volver!) for what might be his most sensual, lush, painful piece of work to date.  I just took a first look at the trailer over at Apple.com this morning, and all I can say is … nothing.  Have you seen her film wardrobe?  The black dress covered in gold chains? I’ve included a shot below for you to salivate over.  I’m almost speechless.  I’m excited.  I’m tickled pink.  I just let out a small giggle.

(photo courtesy Ace Showbiz)

Whether boys or girls are your fancy, you can’t deny it: Penélope Cruz has a sex appeal that I think is unparalleled in film today.  She’s the second coming of Sophia Loren, with the acting chops to match.  The only word to describe her is “enchanting”: she completely seduces me and pulls you in, and always leaves you wanting more.  She’s harnessed her raw talent and sensuality with a sense of maturity, making her one of the best actresses in Hollywood, although she still lacks the bankability of her blonde American counterparts.

But then you remember the Oscar, a rarity for a comedy feature.  And her scene-stealing role in Vicky Cristina Barcelona. If her Lena is anything like the Maria Elena of VCB, or the Raimunda of Volver, Broken Embraces is going to be one of the best films of the year, and possibly her best role to date.

(photo courtesy People.com)

She’s also doing double duty this season, releasing Rob Marshall’s second bigscreen musical Nine on Christmas Day.  This month’s Vogue is dedicated to the women of Nine, and Pene landed the cover with Nicole Kidman, Marion Cotillard and Kate Hudson.  Ugh, this cover bothers me for so many reasons: the Photoshop look that makes them look like they were photographed separately was a poor choice.  Plus, the most obvious faux-pas: No Sophia Loren?? Shame – I would have loved to see her get the cover.  I feel like she’s put in the time, and her involvement in the project is a huge deal.  With the greats from old Hollywood passing away left, right and centre, I feel like she is all we have left from that era, and I feel like we should respect that crucial era of film. Don’t get me wrong, I love Kate Hudson, but Kate on the cover doesn’t feel right to me, not after a track record that includes Fool’s Gold and Bride Wars.

By the way, I feel like I must make mention of how I feel about Fergie’s involvement in Nine.  I know it’s a musical, and I know she can sing and dance, but … no.  Just like her presence in Planet Terror: No.  I’m avoiding her in my iTunes, and I don’t want to see her meth face coming up in my musicals now too.  Seriously, look at the shot below: Fergie front and centre? Really? When there’s people like Dame Judi Dench and a freshfaced Marion Cotillard around?  They could have done better with this shoot.  But still, look at Pene and Sophia Loren cuddling in the corner.  Passing of the torch, perhaps? Go to Style.com (Vogue’s online home) for all the behind-the-scenes goodness.

(photo courtesy People.com)

Also check out the trailers for Broken Embraces and Nine below.  I smell Oscar number two for Pene.  Will I be disappointed?

The R Word: Rave. Nuff said.

Kanye and his 808's & Heartbreak-era entourage, South-Park style. (photo courtesy Nitrolicious)

Have you gone to see Where The Wild Things Are yet?  I’m going this week, and I’m tickled pink.  I grew up on Maurice Sendak (remember Little Bear?) and I love Spike Jonze’s work – in fact, Spike Jonze’s involvement, upon Sendak’s approval, is probably the main reason why I’m so excited.

Do you remember the Fatboy Slim “Praise You” video?  Spike directed and starred in what was one of the biggest videos of the late 1990′s.  He also directed Adaptation and Being John Malkovich, so we know he knows what he’s doing.

So, why can I not co-sign on Jonze’s latest, We Were Once A Fairytale, starring the extremely talented but equally annoying Kanye West? Perhaps because it feels pretentious and artsy-fartsy rather than statement-making.  Maybe because Kanye’s acting is more than a bit overwrought.  Probably because, after the first 2 minutes, I want to scream “OK, OK! I get it!”

I will admit, I’m more than a bit impressed with Kanye’s acting skills (I’m not sure if I expected worse, but I might have), and I applaud the effort to address his public persona issues.  He’s ravaged his own reputation with his misguided antics, and with the Taylor Swift debacle, he has managed to kind of exhaust us all.  Hence my not posting a blog on the whole thing – why bother?  I don’t have the energy for Kanye anymore, and I know I’m not alone.  We Were Once a Fairytale only serves to add to the exasperation.

The R Word: I don’t know, but I can’t quite put my finger on this one.  Thoughts?

UNCOOL UPDATE: They keep ripping down the video. I HATE when they do this.  When bloggers post stuff like this, they’re disseminating your work FOR FREE and are giving you FREE PUBLICITY.  So, I’m gonna keep reposting every time they take it down, perhaps until I get in trouble.

You’re welcome.

Video file courtesy Vimeo