Hey hey, it's Friday! The long week is over. Soon we all get to go to our homes or to our favorite watering holes and ease the stress of the last five days away with a relaxing evening of whatever relaxes us (Matt, I'm warning you, put that back in your pants). For me that means making dinner, reading to my son, and maybe catching a little of the ballgame. Oh, and snarking about entertainment news bites, but you knew that already. And speaking of which . . .
Neil Patrick Harris will go behind the camera for the first time to direct Aaron and Sarah, a romantic comedy about high school friends whose affection grows deeper over the four years of school, through four proms and a funeral . . . wait, that can't be right. *checks original article* Well, I'll be dipped. Okay then. Emma Roberts and Josh Hutcherson are signed to play the leads, presumably because Hugh Grant and Andie MacDowell can't play that young any more.
I think I wanna dance, dept.: Prince is kicking off a new tour with a performance at New York's legendary Apollo Theater, and that the show will include performers and groups like Maceo Parker, Janelle Monae, Mint Condition, Esperanza Spalding, Lalah Hathaway, Sheila E., Cassandra Wilson and Graham Central Station. This show's got more funk than a plate of cheesy grits left out in the sun for a week. Sign me up.
Here's some late breaking news I came upon almost literally as I was getting ready to put today's blog post together: Warner Bros. and MGM have sealed a $400 million or $500 million deal (depending on which story you read) to finance The Hobbit at long last. Peter Jackson is now a lock to direct, and the film will start shooting in New Zealand. As soon as labor issues are resolved. And as soon as the Weta-affiliated miniatures workshop that was to be used for some of the filming gets rebuilt after being damaged in a rife last month. Still, Jackson has a lovely pile of brand new money to roll around in for a while, and that can't be a bad thing.
Here comes your 19th nervous breakdown, dept.: Keith Richards' autobiography Life is due out soon, and in it he is his usual irascible self, intimating among other things that Mick Jagger is not spectacularly endowed, they've hardly spoken to each other about anything but business in twenty years (can't imagine why), and that for two years he thought Johnny Depp was his son's drug dealer. Which I can actually kind of see.
Swedish actress Noomi Rapace, who had a breakout role in the original film version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, is now set to bring her talents and her not quite pronounceable name to The Last Voyage of Demeter, which fleshes out the sea journey of Dracula's coffin as alluded to in Bram Stoker's novel. Joining Rapace will be Sir Ben Kingsley, director Stefan Ruzowitzky, and a vampire to be named later.
ABC has decided that brutalizing Shakespeare is not enough to ruin television forever; the network is planning the revivals of a spate of 1970s shows that really weren't very good, in the hopes that nostalgia starved Xers will tune in and forget that we're now the same age our parents were when they were watching Thirtysomething. Included in the potential lineup of ass are reworkings of Wonder Woman, CHiPS, and now The Incredible Hulk. Now all we need is William Katt to dust off the red tights and our lives will be complete. In that we will all want to kill ourselves.
Today in who gives a fuck: Madonna hates Chicago and actresses because she is a seething cauldron of angst with a bad dye job and little discernible talent; Taylor Momsen is on the cover of Revolver magazine wearing lingerie and guns, because apparently only pervy pedos into well armed raccoons buy Revolver magazine any more; and Betty Thomas finally came to her senses and decided she would not be directing the third installment in the latest plague of Chipmunks movies, preferring instead to look for the artistic integrity she never really had in the first place.
This just in: the new Godzilla film will not be merging with an original project called Pacific Rim, and the project will not be directed by Guillermo del Toro, and it will not feature Godzilla fighting a giant blue knish named Steve. Check back again soon to learn about more shit that won't be happening.
Nic Cage Watch: Two words folks: Drive Angry. Judging by the trailer, this looks like ninety minutes of Nic at his bear suit wearing, woman-punching, bee-denying, "HOW'D IT GET BURNED?!" best/worst. The trailer and poster are at Pajiba, where you can view them both in all their batshit bugfuck dinky dao glory. Hey Nic, your hand is on fire. "I KNOW, IT'S AWESOME, I ESCAPED FROM HELL! FROM HEEELLLLLLLL! HOLY SHIT IT'S A MOTHERFUCKING TREEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
And on that note: SQUIRREL!
Have a good weekend!