Edgy MD

Yeah, this was well performed and executed, but you kinda saw each scene coming and unfolding just as they did. I wonder if it was accidental that the woman who played her mentor-ish neighbor looked so much like Betty Friedan.

It's mostly German.

It's 1971, in an oppressive Swiss backwater, where a referendum to give women the right to vote has arrived shamelessly late. While most of her neighbors either mock the referendum openly or are too timid to show their support, frustrated housewife Nora finds herself thrust forward, gets a new haircut, a sweet pair of momjeans, and becomes an unlikely suffragette leader. [fimg=450]https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BNTY3NDg1ZGMtZjU0ZC00M2ExLWEyZmMtMWY4NmZjZjFiMmUzXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMjI3NDAyNg@@._V1_.jpg[/fimg]

I'm curious and it's on my watch list. I'm reading things that butt up against each other. It's a family flick but it's quiet and over two hours? It's slow moving but there are hyjinx ensuing? I only have one brain!

A domestic chameleon gets lost in the desert, falls in among outlaws and the like and decides to redefine himself as the sheriff of dusty western creature-town. https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51Cg6lDu9QL._AC_.jpg>

Having missed time due to the utter absence of minor league baseball in the US in 2020, #2 Mets prospect Francisco Alvarez will try and make some of that up in Australia this winter, having signed to play for the ABL's Sydney Blue Sox. A more surprising signing with the Blue Sox this offseason has been 48-year-old 12-time MLB All-Star Manny Ramirez.

That's well put. They also had an intraband romance go bad, lawsuits, battles over residuals, and solo projects of varying viability. Still, Gina Schock is hilarious. I want her to become a go-to talking head for all documentaries about the eighties now. She could be the next Art Donovan.

Hey, somebody gave this five starzz! Fun Go-Go's Fact: Gina Schock's post-breakup band, The House of Schock, was cofounded by Chris DeGeneres, brother of Ellen, the original Mr. Hands on Saturday Night Live, and bassist and co-star in this video. [YOUTUBE]atX9mu4riqg[/YOUTUBE]

I would have liked more expert witnesses: actual ride designers, engineers, regulation professionals, psychologists, sociologists. I mean, what is it in us that makes us say, "This looks stupid, but here I go"? What was it in how they projected their images that made the whole scene whiter than a Nugent concert, despite being in New Jersey and aimed at folks of modest means. The footage rolls and rolls and you see almost no parents and no persons of color. Right next door at Great Adventure there were plenty of both despite being a higher ticket. I mean, a trip to AP almost was a Nugent concert — rusted cars full of young men out for trouble, often with the more reticent guys suddenly thrown in with the bad boys for a road trip, pregaming with cheap beer and ditch weed in the parking lot, hooting at girls with big hair, having no expectation of any authority stopping you from being an ass, and coming home with myths to tell your jealous friends. In the end, a young woman reflects on her AP times, saying something along the lines of, "Yeah, you could get hurt, and you'd be scared, but then you'd say to yourself, if you're afraid to do it, then get the fuck out of Jersey." And I'm thinking, "Capital idea, that! Yes, let's all get the fuck out of Jersey."

A charismatic, self-promoting, 1980s, Trumpian criminal lowlife opens a New Jersey theme park designed by amateurs, overseen by a staff of wasted teenagers, regulated by nobody, and dangerous as fuck. Anarchy reins as the park becomes a right of passage for tri-state-area youth and young adults, and an early death for more than a few. Now streaming at HBOMax. [fimg=600]https://www.thepitchkc.com/content/uploads/2020/08/Class-Action-Park-Poster.jpg[/fimg]

Wow, I've got to use my wishing superpowers more responsibly.

Miles Copeland is one of the relatively few non-band members to provide commentary during this doc, and it strikes me that a filmed history of IRS Records might have been more fun.

Thanks. Any particular magazines?

This film is by Alison Ellwood, who set the standard for band docs with the very-rewatchable History of the Eagles. So it's interesting to find parallels with that film, and it's always going to be there when it's another story of LA scenesters making it big and fueling their wild ride with massive amounts of coke. But there are other story arc similarities — like the too-often-forgotten pre-breakup period where Jane had quit the band (the Go-Go's without Jane? unpossible!) mirroring the Don Felder tale in that it was precipitated by her hopig to sing lead on a song and getting rejected. Unequal shares of the $$ get under everybody's skin, and the manager who believed in them from the get-go and brought them to the top gets tossed over the side as soon as they get there. Guitarist Charlotte Caffey, who seemed to be ahead of them as a musician and songwriter, always appeared to be more uptown than the rest of them with her hair and fashion sense. (In fact, she seemed more like a Bangle and actually later toured with the Bangs during a Vicki Peterson maternity break.) But turns out that she was anything but uptown, nursing a nasty heroin habit almost from the band's inception. The real star of the whole thing is drummer Gina Schock, who has been through health scares and hard times, and just sardonically laughs at all the bullshit with more candor and frankness than the rest of them put together, all of whom are more interested in their own stories than the band's. Her flat-voice allows you to look at the band from her seat on the drum riser in the back, hysterically detached, if only in retrospect. At the end, the narrative blindingly jumps from 1985 to 2000, and then 2000 to the present, skipping over a bunch of attempted relaunchings and the not-terrible God Bless the Go-Go's comeback album from 2001. The problem, as these these things tend to do, turns on the enterprise being authorized, and missing the documentarian's detachment (with most exceptions, again, being the Schock highlights), so the movie ends up (a) plugging the band's failed juke-box musical, ( lobbying for the band to be inducted into the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame, and © plugging the new single they just got together to do, which is ... meh ... but you'll hear it on a Sirius station or two if you listen real hard. Their relationships with groupies, cosmetic surgeries, solo careers, Kathy Valentine's lawsuit and grudge against the rest ... are all hard to spin graciously, so they simpy get whitewashed. Strange to hear the narrative that they really upped their game as players before the first album, and that Stewart Copeland is a big booster of theirs (and one of their RnRHoF lobbyists.) My understanding had been that their playing only picked up after Copeland tutored them all during the massive Police Around the World Tour. Anyhow, if they put more energy into getting something more out of their partnership rather than hiring a filmmaker to inflate their story, they might well be a worthy induction. Until then, yeah, they were the first all-female act to go to #1 both singing and and playing their instruments, and that's certainly not nothing, but now, they're scarcely more than a vehicle for Belinda Carlisle's terrifying cycles of plastic surgery. (She originally seemed to be trying to turn herself into Ann-Margret, but now she's more late-stage Priscilla Presley, and I don't feel good about typing that.) There's an interesting subplot about a grudge with Jann Wenner. And that could certainly go a long way toward explaining why they haven't even been nominated for the Hall, but there have been a lot of bands on the outside looking in despite waves of fan support, and the ones who eventually broke through — think Rush and Cheap Trick — were the ones who kept plugging in, playing, touring, making albums, and not letting the world leave them behind. Show me, you know? And that show me has to go for Ellwood as well, who also came up short on her Laurel Canyon film. If you're ever going to match that Eagles movie, you have to try and do this from your own initiative, instead of going to work for your own subject.

Five likeable, relatable young women transform themselves into fearsome sociopaths to take on the LA punk scene, and then transform back into likeable, relatable young women to climb the pop charts, becoming the first (and to this day, only) all female act to hit #1 US while playing and singing all the parts. Money is made. Backs are stabbed. Cocaine is consumed. [fimg=450]https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BYmYwYTU5YmUtYmJlOS00OThmLWI3N2UtY2IwN2M3MDRlYzVmXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMzA1NTgxODA@._V1_.jpg[/fimg]

He could, but I think they're adding a lot of high end prospects who are still way down on the totem pole, just so they can get the supervision of the top development instructors. They added Matthew Allen, and he's only thrown 10 innings outside of high school.

One of the pullquotes from the reviews said that it will "stay with the viewer long after leaving the cinema." But beyond Covid-19, how do arthouse cinemas survive without the free alternative weekly street tabloid to plug them?

Two of the four Lords — Stallone and Perry King — ended up reading for Han Solo.

And yet, it was far better than the Bad News Bears TV show with Jack Warden as Butterworth, Meeno Peluce as Tanner, and Corey Feldman as Regi. And anyone who knows me knows I don't talk no shit about Meeno Peluce.

That's some good writing. Mrs. Stallone: Was that the Fonz I saw leaving? Sylvester: Eh, he's not such a big deal. Did you know he did Peter Pan? Mrs. Stallone: You did porn.

Kesich was a legit writer, with a handful of well received plays. But this was his story, having gone to Indiana and having a friend named Dave who carried his team most of the way through the Little 500. He parlayed his Oscar into a few more films — including the adaptation of The World According to Garp — but was done by 1986 after writing a second cycling story (American Flyers). He's a real interesting guy. He was born in Nazi-occupied Serbia, and is credited by some with coining the term "post-truth." Plus, he wrote what is quite possibly (likely?) the best sports movie ever.

A four-man gang is a good starter size, though. It's hard to do the doo-wop without at least four guys.

I agree it was better, and I need to put up a separate thread. Still kind of disappointed though.

If you can some up my disappointment with this project as: No coverage of the dark side of Laurel Canyon, Absolutely no Joni Mitchell, Arbitrary cutoff date, Too pinned to Jakob Dylan's vanity project, then, well, there's a https://variety.com/2020/music/news/laurel-canyon-tv-review-epix-joni-mitchell-jackson-browne-1234621109/new documentary by Alison Ellwood (who made the terrific History of the Eagles) that reportedly seems to acknowledge and attempt to correct all those shortcomings. Exciting. It's like some producer said, "Edgy was disappointed, so let's see if we can do better here."

Almost every sports movie about a douchey young man who had it all and lost it and needs to find redemption through coaching ... is almost always really about a douchey slipping A-list actor who had a great Q-rating and lost it and needs to find redemption though a family movie.