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2003-11-09 @ 4:04 p.m.
acting for Emmys

So did anyone else jump up and play "Total Eclipse of the Heart" on the piano last night during the lunar eclipse? Me scanning the auditorium...(everyone staring blankly) Damn, now I feel so freakin' stupid.

In an attempt not to be bored last night, I actually turned on my TV. I don't have cable but I live about 6 blocks from two of our TV stations. You would think I'd be able to get a better reception living so close, but usually its pretty snowy. But last night, actually, with all the planets lining up and everything (you know...the lunar eclipse thing...are you paying attention??), the reception was pretty good.

And boy was I glad. I got to watch one of those cop shows set in New York. You know those kind that flash things like "Annika's Apartment, Tuesday afternoon, 3:04 p.m." That really brought me right into the action.

The story was about a woman who was pregnant, who got carjacked 36 hours before she was due to give birth. Of course she had a rare disease called Placenta-Interruptus or something like that and could only deliver in a hospital, otherwise, she would bleed to death. Doesn't that sound like something a doctor would invent? Or maybe a hard-up screenplay writer in search of A PLOT POINT??? But I digress..

So how they knew the EXACT time of delivery, I'll never know. But those New Yoik detectives sure knew A LOT OF STUFF. Well...except where she was. But even with all their street smarts, high tech equipment and Ice-T looking like he was thinking "Where the fuck is my music career?", there were still a few problems.

Like that their guest stars couldn't act. Their main guest star, who looked like David Hasselhoff's love child with a space alien, was, shall we say, a little wanting in the thespian department. He had more of a vacant surfer dude persona, then a New York killer vibe. His "eye" acting was pretty convincing, but as soon as he opened his mouth. Well, lets just say he gave new meaning to the word s-t-i-l-t-e-d. He made David Hasselhoff look like Sir Laurence Olivier.

And then there were his female co-stars. What he lacked in acting chops, the ladies made up for in overacting. I hate to name names, but (cough) Kellie Martin and Shirley Knight. Kellie Martin, who was a teen actress in a television series in the 1990's doesn't know what subtlety is. Everything is strong. Strong willed. Strong emotion. Strong eye brows. It was a small part and I think she was pissed, thinking "I need a TV series" and went way over the top when she blamed her mother for what happened in the story. Or maybe she was just working on her own mommy issues. I could see needing to do that.

And then there was Shirley Knight. Hee hee. I actually worked with her once in the 1980's as a movie extra in a TV movie. She was totally delightful in person. Bubbly. Kind of like Auntie Mame. But when the big dramatic scene came tumbling down the television turnpike last night, all I could think of was Milton Berle doing "King Lear". It was like get a fire extinguisher, this woman is going to burst into flames.

I don't know. Maybe this is TV acting. I watch very little TV anymore. And also the final scene in this show was the birth of the car-jacked baby. That was the quickest birth in the history of mankind. A couple of quick Lamaze pants, Poingggg! Out pops a completely cleaned off baby with Pampers. Amazing. Guess they didn't want to edit any of Kellie's crying scenes. You know...whisper...Emmy nomination.

So today, in an effort, to get back into so truly entertaining, theatrical efforts I went to see the new Hugh Grant movie, "Love, Actually".

I am in love, actually, with the master of the shy grin, Mr. Hugh. Can't seem to get enough of that Brit. He reminds me of someone I once dated and still care about and I have always loved that sense of humor of his.

Movie was quite enjoyable too, especially for an old love curmudgeon, like me. Not nearly enough Hugh Grant to satisfy my loins, but it was a very delightful look at that exasperating thing called love.




Note to myself: Gee, I hope Hugh reads Diaryland...especially, the part about my loins. Do you think he does? Gee I hope so. I could really use a break from this TV watching thing. My loins are definitely in need of some intense Hugh Granting.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty