Circus of the Who?

It's been fourteen years since the last installment of Circus of the Stars, a chintzy relic of the three-network era where sitcom actors owned as property by studios could be forced to walk on a tightrope with a burlap sack over their head if a cigar-chomping bigwig demanded it. After Mr. Belvedere was savagely ripped to shreds by a performing lion, the format fell out of favor and the show hasn't aired in the U.S. since.

Today, the networks' grip on performers has slipped. A star coerced into being shot out of a cannon as part of a ratings stunt can just say no, and go appear on a dimly-lit drama on FX instead. CBS isn't going to force the cast of CSI to cram themselves into a clown car if they want to keep them around very long.

But the rise of free agency hasn't helped the bottom-of-the-barrel performers- the washed-up, bankrupt and otherwise unemployable. Future Lindsay Lohan, we're looking in your general direction! I'm talking about former child stars, supermodels above the age of thirty, musical one-hit wonders, and anyone who's quasi-famous for being on a reality show and losing. Are these people in any position to turn down work, even if it's grinding up puppies into Puppy Chow? (Oh yes, that's how it's done. Also, Santa Claus isn't real.)

Thus, this summer we face Celebrity Circus, a revival of Circus of the Stars done up in a so-new-it's-old-already reality show veneer. Note that rather than stars- you know, people who star in shows and that you want to see, you now get celebrities- people who can range from real actors down on their luck, to people who are simply famous because they do other famous peoples' tattoo art. Celebrity is cheap these days. Many of these same people have appeared on Dancing with the Stars, which is confusing, because those who are danced with are most assuredly not stars, but merely celebrities. Don't confuse the two!

Thus, you will get to see Christopher Knight, poor middle Brady child, now willing to endure public humiliation as a trapeze performer. Knight has made a "living" out of stuff like this- he's been married on a reality show (My Fair Brady), locked in a house with other celebrities (The Surreal Life), hunted ghosts (Celebrity Paranormal Project), waxed nostalgic about the 1970's (I Love the 70's: Volume 2) and done everything else on television short of dying (which may just happen here!). The difference between Stars and Celebrity is that on Celebrity, you're rooting for these losers to get injured. Whereas on Stars, network execs prayed that Ed Asner wouldn't be maimed beyond recognition and lead to the untimely cancellation of Lou Grant. The commercials even acknowledge this, showing a teaser of Knight landing on his face after falling out of a big hamster wheel.

(There's another comeback- between the revival of American Gladiators and now Celebrity Circus, big-ass hamster equipment is having its best week ever!)

So, will the new Circus provide as much entertainment as the old? Well, that's debatable. It depends on whether you want stars or will settle for celebrities, and how much you want to see them suffer. If you're willing to watch celebrities dance, lose weight, eat bugs, go stir crazy, or box each other then you probably don't have anything against seeing Rachel Hunter wounded by a cotton-candy machine.

Completely Useless Movie Previews: Speed Racer

Gentle readers. Once again, I will offer my take on films you may or may not wish to see, based only on the knowledge I have gathered through osmosis. Or from watching the film's trailer. Because if you can't fill out a minute with the good parts, you probably have a hundred and seventy-nine and a half minutes of suck left over.

This time, I warn you away from Speed Racer, made by those Matrix guys. You know, the ones who we wish more and more, with each successive film since The Matrix Reloaded, that they'd never made a film after The Matrix.

Speed Racer is based on the 60's proto-anime cartoon of the same name, and is the tragic tale of a boy suffering from attention deficit disorder. Speed, named for the drug his mother was on throughout her pregnancy, wants to win something. I think it's a race. He's aided in this goal by just the people you want surrounding you so that others take you seriously- your parents (Dad likes to dress up like Mario), your girlfriend, your little brother, and an armed chimp.

Speed is driven to drive both by his desire to escape the movie, and also to avenge the mysterious death of his older brother, who supposedly died in a freak accident coincidental to the appearance of Racer X on the scene. Racer X looks like Speed's brother, talks like Speed's brother, and raced like Speed's brother. Except Racer X doesn't show up at family events like reunions and barbecues, so it obviously isn't him.

Threatening all that Speed holds dear (apparently dysfunctional families, primary colors, and chimpanzees) is Mr. Royalton, who wants to sign up Speed to either race for his Team of Evil or work in his whimsical candy factory. I'm unclear on this. Speed can't sell out, though, because he's a commie. Becoming a cog in the bourgeois capitalist machine of excess would be betraying the sweat and blood of his fellow human and chimp workers. Will Royalton accept his refusal without a plot point? Will Racer X save Speed, and then unmask himself and help out with the family yard sale? Will we all get massive seizures watching the bright lights and pretty colors?!

Another item of note is the production style. This is the type of film that doesn't need to brag about being in color. Not that many films do, these days. Instead, this is the type of movie that opts to brutally assault you and leave you for dead in an alley with color. And then pisses color on your corpse. It's like having your blood replaced with liquefied Skittles. If that's not an endorsement, then what is?

So, on my scale of 1 to 88 stars, with 88 being the number of times you're likely to have synapse misfires and hallucinate dead relatives while watching, and 12 being the highest age of someone who would enjoy this thing, I give Speed Racer a six-pack of Red Bull, a zany simian sidekick, and a healthy dose of Ritalin.

Completely Useless Movie Previews: Alvin and the Chipmunks

Gentle readers, it's that time once again, wherein I tell you everything I think I know about a film based on a glance at the trailer. And then you trust me completely, as you are wont to do. Because you're gullible like that.

Alvin and the Chipmunks is a heartwrenching story of three small rodents taken from their natural habitat and rendered in less-than-convincing computer animation. Alvin, Simon, and Theodore desperately want to spread a message of environmental awareness and the dangers of global warming, but instead are enslaved by the cruel and heartless David Seville. Hopped up on goofballs and chained to a microphone, their screams of anguish are digitally altered into classics such as "Christmas Don't Be Late" and "The Witch Doctor."

Seville, whose hobbies include deep-fat frying underperforming chipmunks as bite-size nuggets, is played by Jason Lee. Lee was booted from the remake of Fletch because studio execs didn't think he had the persona to carry a film on his own as lead. When people compare your charisma to Chevy Chase and decide unfavorably on your behalf, this is a message. That message is, it's time to talk to your agent about that dancing rodent flick.

Big questions are presented in this movie, many left up in the air. Will Dave get rabies? Will the chipmunks take home the Grammy? Will their droppings lead the health department to condemn Dave's home, or will the Chipmunk saga ultimately end in a small cardboard box buried beneath some cigarette butts and a whiskey bottle in the backyard? You'd think the writers would care enough about their characters to supply us with this vital information, and not leave us without closure. We, as an audience, demand to see the horrible, grisly fate that awaits this trio. Especially if an owl is involved.

Fans of the 80's cartoon maybe disappointed that the Chipettes are nowhere to be seen. These proto-furry heroines were lusted after by many a lad who wished their figures were anatomically correct. Does Hollywood today not care about the money in the pockets (among other things in the pockets) of horny teenage boys who crave anthropomorphic sex idols? Their appearance would have catapulted this movie to blockbuster status. Especially in Japan, where themed panties could have been sold in vending machines.

So. The Chipmunks. A cautionary tale of animal abuse, the cold uncaring world of contemporary top-40 radio, and the career of Jason Lee. On my voodoo-cursed scale of 1 to 88 stars, with 12 or so being the general level of tolerance I can muster for any Jason Lee film, I give this movie three deep-fried chipmunk nuggets, a pair of Chipette panties, and time served. Now let us completely forget this cultural phenomenon for another couple decades at least.

Real Problems. Real Answers.

I have a plan to solve the energy crisis!

Okay, so Santa brings coal to children who are naughty, right? Okay, so we encourage all of the kids in the world to misbehave. Santa can't well give them toys, so he leaves lumps of coal in their stockings. We all know that Santa doesn't have mining operations, but rather has magic elves fabricate everything he dispenses. Thus, free coal! We take each lump of coal, put it together into a big stockpile, and voila! Enough to put a dent in the ever-growing energy void.

Yes, I know, my plan is, essentially, to steal Christmas. But I'd like to hear you come up with something more foolproof!

Completely Useless Movie Previews: Beowulf

Once again, I'm here to fill you in about a movie you don't have to see, because I've seen the trailer. This time out, the film in question is Beowulf, and left me guarantee, it's a Beowulf Cluster of fun.

Much like 300, large portions of the movie have been digitally created. Except Beo (as the cool kids will surely call it) takes the added step of digitizing the actors. Sure, this brings them creepily close to the Uncanny Valley, wherein almost-human creations are so close to humanity that their faults become exaggerated to the point of eeriness. But ignore those dead eyes and read on. The man behind them is none other than Robert Zemeckis, whose animated Polar Express certainly didn't give any children deep-rooted psychological problems.

Unlike other retreads of the source material, this one is, oddly-enough, not set in a "techno-futile world." Rather, it's the dark ages, and the Danes are up against the monster Grendel, and his mother, Angelina Jolie, who is really taking this adoption thing way too far. Grendel is played by Crispin Glover, which is a bit much, since merely casting Crispin Glover makes your villain plenty scary right there. Grendel's mommy likes to prance around nude in gold paint and stripper heels, which don't seem to be the best choice for mortal combat, but hey, times were different in ye olden days.

Beowulf is a very manly hero. Well, as manly as you can be fighting a girl. You can tell he's manly, because he does manly things, like yelling his name repeatedly ("I... am... Beowulf!") just in case you forgot who he was, therefore reminding you of his Shatneresque manliness. You know, just in case you happen to have heard about this manly guy named Beowulf, and need your memory jogged indirectly when you realize it's this guy. (It's him. HE'S BEOWULF.)

Taking a cue from 300, many other things are screamed in an important manner as well. Historical records show that, in the past, screaming was more culturally acceptable than it is today. Evidence comes in the form of the original, screamed Gettysburg Address, delivered by a half-nude Abraham Lincoln.

So, is it worth watching? Duh! Did you read about the nekkid Angelina Jolie? Granted, it's a computer reproduction, but it's as close as we can get while she's still employed by the United Nations. Or until such time as naked screaming becomes fashionable again.

As a bonus, watching the movie exempts you from reading the poem in an English class. It's true! Clip this out and give it to your teacher as proof. Even reading this review is enough to cut you some slack with the poem, letting you just read the good parts about the disembowelings.

So, on my medieval scale of 1 to 88 stars, with 15 being "good" and 87 being one shy of 88, I give this film two mugs of mead, the slain body of our enemy, and a computer-generated sex scene between two copies of Angelina Jolie.

Completely Useless Movie Previews: Lions for Lambs

It has been far too long since I, your author, have granted you assistance in deciding whether a film is worthy of your attention and debit card. Fear not! As part of my vow to entertain you while television falters under the crushing duress of labor protests, I am redoubling my efforts to keep you amused. So, Lions for Lambs. As usual, I am only using the film's trailer to inform me about its contents. Until such time as I am invited to press screenings, suck it up and deal.

Lions for Lambs is not, as the title would imply, either a film version of Edward Hicks' Peaceable Kingdom paintings, nor is it about the diet of a safari party. Rather, it stars Tom Cruise as a guy in a suit, which only happens in every other Tom Cruise movie. He says Important Things(tm), and says them loudly. Sometimes he'll bang his fist. Other people in suits stare intently. He ain't gettin' away with those words!

Oh yawn. By now we're all sick of Tom Cruise. I couldn't even make it through the trailer. Tell you what, let's start over and review Fred Claus, okay?

Now. Fred Claus is the story of Santa's hedonistic brother. Of course, Fred is jealous of the attention Santa gets. I blame his parents. If they're creative enough to name one child "Santa," where do they get off dropping the Fred-bomb on the other? They could have called him "Dewdrop" or "Rambo" or "Darth Vader." Those are names that predestine someone!

The plot involves Fred needing to borrow money from brother Santa to pay off gambling debts. It's a touching, heartwarming story of what happens when elves don't pay up, and how eventually they can only wish that one among them was indeed a dentist. Now, I know nothing else about the film, but let me wildly speculate that somehow Santa winds up in trouble, and Fred saves the day, healing their relationship for all eternity. They they wrestle in a manly, heterosexual manner to seal their mutual respect, and crack open a six-pack.

It must be tough to live in the shadow of a more successful sibling. But we've mined this material before. If the writers were really creative, they'd make a sequel where Fred and Santa discover a long-lost third brother- Jesus? Lincoln? Macho Man Randy Savage?

As it stands, this movie looks like it lacks creativity. It's Elf knocked up by any other Vince Vaughn film, and left abandoned on the curbside, where it was bitten by a spider infected with Bad Santa.

Still, it's not Lions for Lambs! It's completely devoid of Tom Cruise! Due to this fact alone, I'm giving it, on my patented scale of 1 through 88 stars, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, and two-and-a-half golden rings. It's got moxie, pluck, and spunk, and someday, science willing, there'll be a cure for that.

And what the fuck is up with Christmas movies being released this early, without the benefit of a Halloween tie-in?!

The Juice Isn't Loose Anymore

Ah, it feels like old times. Back in New England again, turning on the TV, and- what's this? Another OJ perp walk? It's just like 1995 again, only I have less hair!

Now I have to wonder who all will be back for the reunion tour. Kato is out, as I'm sure he's moved on to bigger and better things, and it would be a stretch to figure out how to involve him in the plot this time. Some of the Dream Team have died, so they'll either be replaced by lookalikes or CGI. Johnny Cochran, for instance, will be done by the same motion-capture guy who played Gollum in the Lord of the Rings films.

This time out, things will have to be slightly different, but still largely follow the same formula. Maybe next season, OJ can break back into prison, but this year let's not rock the boat too much. Episode II: Electric Boogaloo will instead involve boots that don't fit properly, a small green alien that only OJ can see and hear, and an American Idol-style competition to find the Next Big Judge Ito Dancer. Due to environmental considerations, the slow Bronco chase will now be performed in a Prius.

Thanks to the internet, this time out we can conduct live polling on IsOJGuilty.Com, watch streaming video on WatchOJFry.Com, and learn about the care and feeding of your own OJ on WhatOJsEat.com. You can friend OJ on MySpace and read his confessional "If I Did It" blog. Just be careful, he might try to kill you.

And so. It begins. Remember, we're just days into what promises to be months of speculation-fueled media frenzy. Savor it. If he goes away for thirty years, it's going to be an awfully long time before we're treated to another trial.