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.