THERE WILL BE A BLACKTRESS IN YOUR HOME

So, as you all know, yesterday, I did my first taping for television. What fun!!
I was interviewed by a wonderful, hilarious gay man, who happily let me rant about Celebrity bodies. As I talked, he jotted down notes and smiled encouragingly, much like a mother at her shyest child's recital. (He explained he couldn't laugh out loud because his voice wasn't supposed to be heard on the taping.)

Because I was told to wear "no white, no stripes, no logos, no busy patterns, and no green, because you'll be in front of a green screen," I rolled up in one of my finest blue dresses--you know, with just enough cleave to show I'm a lady in the street, but a freak in the bed. Even though the outfit looked great, the fabric was apparently difficult for the sound guy, who kept coming up to adjust the clip-on mic because he could hear rustling.

Quite frankly, I think he was just using it as an excuse to touch me in the boob area. He had a soul patch, and his name was Mike, and he spoke in an unnecessarily sexy voice, all smoky and low and full of deadpan. I enjoyed messing with him every time he came over to press the mic and come up with new ways to make sure it stayed put. "Are you trying to give me a mammogram, Mike? You're obvi checking for lumps."
He was so not having the blacktress' jest. I think it's cause I was the last interview of the day and they were getting sleepy.

We went through the list he'd gave me, and I had jotted down jokes, and he let me refer to them on set, which was cool. However, it really was the random off-the-cuff stuff that they liked best, such as when I referred to Matthew McConaughey as "a kind of sexy rotisserie chicken. He's always juicy and glistening and in motion, the breasts are highlighted, he's looking succulent."

They also appreciated when I totally went off on a tangent unrelated to beach bodies and explained my theory that Spencer Pratt looks like a Furby.




Srsly, do you see it??? They are both freaking me out!!!!

I left feeling good, with the producer and the makeup artist telling me I was great, and the producer saying--and I QUOTE--"I hope we can get you to do some more of this." I won't know what bits they end up using until it airs, and I won't even know the air date until it's edited, but it's scheduled for June.

Even though some things are up in the air, one thing is for certain: Even if it's just for 12 seconds, I AM GOING TO BE ON YOUR TV.

Can You Handle "The Ugly Truth"?

Cause I can't.
I just got back from seeing an advanced screening of the new Katherine Heigl rom-com The Ugly Truth, (you didn't know I had the hook ups, did you?) and I must say--not impressed. I'd write "SPOILER ALERT," cause technically I'll be giving you all the details, but trust me--there's nothing to spoil.

I thought any movie with a focus on TRUTH would be a hit with Sojo. Unfortunately, I was quite wrong.

Listen, I know it's a romantic comedy, and that the genre follows a strict formula, so I wasn't expecting to be blown away, or to even have lingering thoughts about it once the lights came back up and credits rolled. However, I was hoping for my generic expectations to be met, and to experience laughter and merriment. This was not the case. I knew I was in for it when the main titles opened to Katy Perry's annoying single "Hot 'n' Cold."

Katherine Heigl plays Abby, a producer of a morning talk show who has no luck with men. We see this early on during her internet date with a random dude played by Kevin Connolly (note to Kevin Connolly: fire your agent.). She is a classic Type-A shrew, the very kind she lamented having to play in Knocked Up. She's controlling and dislikes fun of all kinds, and even brings a list of "talking points" on her date with the Kevster--do you think Connolly would mind if I called him that?

Of course, Gerard Butler's job is to act as her foil. As Mike, an emotionless man ruled by his peen, he isn't afraid to take the shrew head on and tell her what men really want. He does so first when she appears as a disembodied voice on his radio show, and then continues as he becomes a featured host on her morning show--what a crazy random happenstance!

Okay, here's my thing with Katherine Heigl. I think she's pretty--like, really pretty, and I usually don't think blondes are attractive. However, I think that even when she's playing a romantic lead, her bitchiness shines through, and there's little to redeem her. I imagine her in real life, hanging out with her main gay T.R. Knight, talking ish about everyone they don't like while her husband Josh Kelley strums his guitar in the background, begging for her attention.

Sorry, I digress.

I thought Gerard Butler was actually pretty good in this--I mean, given the script, he played the cocky asshole part wonderfully, without playing it like a 21 year old (I'm over older dudes acting like they're in college--McConaughey, I'm talking to you). He was all vengeful testosterone in 300, then played the tender Irish lad in P.S. I Love You, and here he shows that third side of a dude--the d-bag. I kind of wish Butler's character would be my personal dating coach (sigh), as I believe everything he said made total sense--you know, that men don't like criticism, want you to laugh at their jokes, and that a woman should "never talk about your problems. men don't listen and they don't care."

Um, am I bitter?

Anyway, the film--which Heigl produced, and should have made a point to improve the characer she plays--suffers in that it knows the rules of the genre but refuses to follow them. Neither Heigl or Butler's characters have any redeeming qualities, save for a couple of scenes Butler gets with a nephew, which is supposed to make him seem sensitive. The guy Heigl is attempting to lock down, a doctor named Collin, is basically a One Tree Hill cast-off who we see no chemistry with at any point. And even though we know she should end up with Butler at the end (I mean, that's what I paid--or, in this case, didn't pay--for), it would have been nice to see a real conflict between the two guys, either among themselves or within Heigl. We also don't see Mike and Abby have any moment of tenderness or a real connection, other than a shared preference for tap water when dining out.

The tap-water scene, like the rest of the film's supposedly major moments, fall flat, and seem to be taken from other films: a pair of vibrating panties yields a wannabe When Harry Met Sally diner scene; and a steamy dance number between Abby and Mike at a Cuban club reads like a scene from the editing room floor of Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights. Heigl's big reveal to Collin that she's been pretending to be someone else comes down to her taking out her blonde hair extensions that gave her a much-needed sexier 4 inches of hair, and as a result, the key to Collin's heart.

Seriously.

The film's ending, which involves Abby and Mike in a hot air balloon and broadcast live on air, looks terribly cheesy--like some of that old-school, first-bluescreen type of technology used in the original Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Their close-ups make them appear cut and pasted into the scene, and their final lines sum up the film's failure.
"Why, why do you love me?" Heigl's shrew asks seriously--you know, cause she can't take a compliment.
"Fuck if I know," Butler's says in a gruff tone, before kissing her passionately.

Um, you're right, Gerard. Fuck if we know.