Category Archives: Show Biz

So proud of you, hon

What is it about pro athletes and precocious actresses and singers who love to procreate all over the place?

Have they never heard of (a) birth control, (b) marriage, (c) self-restraint, or, at least (c) respect for the kids they’re going to usher into the world?

The latest breathless announcement lapped up by the paparazzi, TMZ, gossip columnists and other barnacles on society is that actress Natalie Portman, 29, is pregnant and not married, but thrilled about her situation. In a statement to Entertainment Weekly mag, she gushed:

“I have always kept my private life private, but I will say that I am indescribably happy and feel very grateful to have this experience.”

Oh, did I mention that she’s also in the middle of promoting the hell out of “Black Swan,” her latest movie?

Dork from Ork

I’ve been a confirmed Robin Williams fan since he first came to national attention. Witty, clever, lightning-fast, frequently over the top but with a childlike edge that made it difficult to take offense from his antics.

I’ve been less impressed by his recent motion pictures, particularly the recent “Old Dogs” with John Travolta that has, essentially, no reason for being foisted off on a ticket-buying public. So, it was with renewed hope I heard he was back on the standup comedy circuit and was going to talk about it on the “Charlie Rose” interview show on public television.

The “interview,” if one can consider the mutual admiration society hour of insider-comments, oneupsmanship wisecracks and non-stop celebrity fawning by Rose — punctuated by video clips of old Williams appearances on Rose’s show — was a disaster. But, hope springing eternal as it tends to do, I nevertheless made a mental note to watch the HBO special that Williams recently taped in Washington, DC.

I did. Well, the first 12 minutes, anyway.

After hearing more permutations of the word “fuck” in such a brief time than I thought possible – fuck, fucking (verb), fucking (adjective), fucker, motherfucker, fucked, fuck you, what the fuck, fuck me, get the fuck out (off, up, away, etc.), unfuckingbelievable, fuck off – accompanied by no wit, no humor, no insight and virtually no funny lines, it dawned on me: Robin Williams is finished.

We’ve seen it happen to others with a special comedic quality — Chevy Chase during a brief star arc (“Saturday Night Live” and the “National Lampoon Vacation” flicks) before he became a pathetic caricature of himself comes quickly to mind — and it’s always a bit sad to think about. Nearly as sad as performers who don’t know when to bow gracefully off the stage — perhaps to work in another niche, perhaps to avoid tarnishing an iconic career.

Robin Williams, as we know, never has known when to rein himself in. Pity.

Put your lips together and shut up

They are endlessly telling us to …

(A) “Put your hands together for … ”

That doesn’t make any noise after the first hit, by the way

(B) “Make some noise for … ”

I might cheer or applaud if the performance is worthy, but just sitting there like an ass, making noise? No way

(C) “C’mon,” as in sing their songs

I paid good money for the ticket or for the cable service. You entertain me, Host Boy

Feel free to add your own.