Posts Tagged ‘Idina Menzel’

The Only Real Story

June 30th, 2010 1 comment

If you’ve been wondering why I’ve been blogging lately about such weighty matters as Idina Menzel, Wonder Woman, and the fate of Federer, here’s one explanation: I can’t bear to spend too much time thinking about the only real story, the one that threatens to compromise my (and all) kids’ futures — ┬áthe BP Oil Spill. Here’s an especially disturbing video, lavishly narrated, that chronicles the sickness and death of dolphins and whales and the deep, organic wound to our ecosystem. Warning: it’s hard to watch.

If you want to stay on top of the eco-consequences of this unfolding horror, this blog is a good pick.

But Here’s the Problem with Wonder Woman

June 30th, 2010 3 comments

This story talks about yet another attempt to reintroduce Wonder Woman, this time with a new costume:

It’s a vast improvement, yes, but for all of DC’s effort to place WW in the Superman-Batman icon troika, it’s not worked yet, and likely won’t. Here’s why:

Her powers have always been a shadow of Superman’s. He’s all-powerful; she’s super-strong, but less so. He’s indestructible; she has some resistance to injury, but has to fend off bullets with her bracelets, for Pete’s sake. He can fly; sometimes she can, too, but then why has she relied on her invisible plane? And so on.

Powers aren’t everything, as Batman conclusively demonstrates. But heroes need their own act. And a magic lasso isn’t enough, unless she’s planning to join the super-rodeo. The new origin even sounds like a Superman knock-off: Her homeland (Paradise Island) and family is destroyed, and she escapes and is raised by…ordinary earthlings. Folks like you, me, and Idina Menzel.

Don’t Mess With Idina!

June 27th, 2010 2 comments

Yikes! A silly post that I wrote about Idina Menzel last night while wasting time in front of the TV elicited some of the nastiness comments I’ve gotten.

Interesting. I’ve written about very sensitive stuff, including abortion, and generally gotten respectful disagreement. Granted, my tone here was snarky — but it was mostly a joke, people. I don’t really think Menzel believes her son can dream about unicorns, and really, does it matter? There’s hardly a lot at stake here.

Don’t insult celebrities, or their fans will come after you. One even criticized my parenting, questioning my decision to leave my kids home with a sitter when, he claims, there were tornado warnings in the area. I’ve done my share of bad parenting, but if there really were tornado warnings I’m guessing the concert would have been called off. Oh, well. It’s not like I let them sail around the world, or anything.

And for the record: Read the previous post, and you’ll see that I did like her music (even “Poker Face”), and the way she dealt with some of her more obnoxious fans (who knows? maybe they’re the same ones who wrote me). She was even kind of sweet about it, obligingly singing a quick “Happy Birthday, Anniversary, and Anything Else” and telling the story about her visit to the hospital to deal with broken ribs.

But I defy anyone to listen to her random musings and tell me how she gets from A to…some non-contiguous letter.

Hmm….is there a future in gratuitous celebrity attacks? Does Liza Minnelli marry gay men?

Idina Menzel Knows Nothing About Cognitive Development

June 26th, 2010 10 comments

On Thursday evening, David and I left our two kids with a babysitter and a few flashlights (we’d had a major storm that took out our power, knocked down a branch and shattered our lamppost), and headed off to see Broadway and Glee diva Idina Menzel at the Mann Music Center, an outdoor venue that hosts all kinds of stuff every summer.

OK, she can sing — well enough to make the members of the Philadelphia Orchestra wonder why they spent countless thousands of hours studying incredibly difficult instruments only to be back-up to a (pretty clever) cover version of “Poker Face.” (To her credit, Menzel, who studied at NYU, really did seem to understand and appreciate the talent behind her; she thanked them profusely and endlessly.)

She should have done more of that, and less of her incomprehensible, meandering, and self-absorbed stage patter. At her best when she sparred with idiot hecklers in the audience — just the right mix of pissed and playful — she otherwise rambled about various and sundry aspects of her — as she knows you surely know — amazing┬ácareer. Most of the time I had no idea why she was putting one thought next to each other. I felt as though I was being subjected to live broadcasts of random neural firings.

You wouldn’t expect such a person to be a good songwriter, and Menzel isn’t. Or at least she should never be permitted to write another lyric. She sang one of her self-penned dance hits, Gorgeous, which has a shamelessly catchy pop hook, but features these wince-worthy words:

When all of the beauty turns to pain,when all of the madness falls like rain, as long as we crash and we collide, we will be gorgeous you and I.

Well, it could have been worse. As a proud and often surprisingly irony-challenged parent, I’m reluctant to criticize others for cooing about their kids. But her paean to her infant son, Walker, was enough to make me want to call the Department of Human Services. I could imagine her belting out the song she’s constructed to her helpless child, drawing screams that she probably mistakes for the adulation of her fans. And she was singing about his dreams, which are supposed to have included such storybook stock characters as — wait for it — unicorns.

OK — the kid is still an infant, about nine months old. He’s not dreaming about unicorns. Menzel, apparently, can defy both gravity and neuroscience.