You may be as surprised that I am recommending something called The Natural History of the Chicken this week as Jim was when I said I wanted to spend the evening watching it, but perhaps you won't be quite as surprised when you learn it was made by Mark Lewis, the same documentarian behind the cult hit Cane Toads. While the film was made in 2001, it feels older in a good way. Rather than adopting the inane tone of most “educational” shows about food (think Unwrapped and Diners, Drive Ins and Dives) it has the look and feel of an older Errol Morris film.

The story of chickens is not told through obnoxious narration but by real people that love the animals. One one lady gave her chicken mouth the beak resuscitation, another writes poetry to her pet chicken after taking a few laps with him in her pool. Lewis has the wisdom (the sadly so many current documentarians have lost) to just let these people talk while offering fun recreations and imagery to go with their stories.

It calls to mind the annual Thanksgiving Poultry Slam on This American Life, and unlike the age old question of what came first, the chicken or the egg, we know that it was Ira Glass and team that first appreciated the many stories to be told about our favorite white meat. PBS, whether inspired by the radio show or not, have made a surprisingly touching, hilarious and memorable program. Lucky us, it's available on Netflix on demand, so you can watch it tonight.

See more: TV Shows 2000s Documentary

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Posted on June 1, 2009

Doubt centers around an acting tour de force that never becomes annoying the way a lot of movies that feature acting tour de forces usually do (read: Rachel Getting Married). I really didn't have a lot of interest in seeing this one and think it was too mildly presented to audiences and advertised as something much more boring than it is. True, it's comprised of speeches and monologues (as you probably know, it's adapted by John Patrick Shanley from his own renowned stage play), but I found it completely compelling.

Much of the credit goes to the ever wonderful Meryl Streep – a woman who knows how to act with an accent (in this case Bronx, 1960s) who's so good so often that one takes her for granted and forgets her talents, or at least only recalls recent performances in Mama Mia and Prime over her roles in Kramer vs Kramer and Angels in America. But the credit extends to Philip Seymour Hoffman too (man who, when he's good, he's exceptional), this is one of his best roles in years (I also personally loved him most in Boogie Nights) and the small supporting cast, including Amy Adams doing wide-eyed as only she can and Viola Davis, are great.

Some critics have complained about the film's 'staginess', but it never bothered me. I thought it was a thought provoking still life of a problem that we now know has been far reaching and horrible. It plays with your emotions and prejudices and you find yourself in doubt as the plot progresses. The amiable characters that you like and want to believe may in fact be monsters, and those that are less likable and even frightening could actually be the only voice of reason. This was a real surprise.

See more: Movies 1960s 2000s Drama Historical Mysteries

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Posted on May 18, 2009

If you watch as much NY1 as I do, you'll be overjoyed by the prospect of becoming the next artist to perform their jingle. Join the ranks of Nncle Junior and the rap duo that plays violins. Of course, without any musical skills, it will be less probable that I will won (or even enter the contest), but I thought I'd pass the opportunity on to you.

24, 7… that's what we're here for!

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Posted on May 18, 2009

It's no secret that The Fashion Show is the fashioned by Tresemme clone of Project Runway. Terribly self conscious of that fact, Isaac Mizrahi (who I still adore) and Kelly Rowlands (who I never did, and care even less for now – but more on her later) tip toe around the long shadows of Heidi and Tim. Instead of calling out a trademarked catch-phrase like “gather round”, Mizrahi has to stammer out, “Come here around me” to the contestants.

Even the sewing rooms look exactly the same, though the judging panel puts the judges on the opposite side of the stage and for whatever reason forces them to huddle and conspire in a hallway like gossiping girls cutting class as they debate which contestant will hear the uninspired send-off, “Sorry, we're not buying” in place of “You're out” and “Bye bye darling” instead of “Auverderzien”.

The show really could have benefited from an attempt to establish its own identity, because there are some good things here. Firstly, one of my friends from college is a contestant. Root for Anna! She's the one who looks Amazonian and strikingly sane amid the sea of freaks. Merlin is so over the top and flamboyant that he's nearly nauseating just to look at; when he gleefully announced to a hushed room that, “The woorl is run by beetches!” I wanted to hide someplace far away from my television. There are other caricatures here too who come in varying degrees of bitchy, swishy, and cocky but they pale in the shadows of Merlin's feathered hat.

On the plus side, the challenges are actually pretty good so far, better than some of the weaker late season PR efforts. I think Mizrahi, despite emphasizing his bitchy, non nurturing (read un-Tim Gunn) edge can offer a lot of good criticism and knows what he's talking about. However Kelly Rowlands, a natural born mumbler, seems only able to say, “I wouldn't be caught dead in that” and manages to make all her lines sound as if they come from the tenth plus take on a very long shooting day. I have no idea why they hired such a charmless wonder.

She explains her credentials up front as having worn lots of fashionable clothes and having been seated in the front row of some show; but considering that she really means wearing and viewing the horrendous showboaty glamour of Beyonce's mom's House of Der?on, her ostensible assets are more like hindrances. Oh, what I wouldn't give (since their going the bitchy route anyway), to have Sandra Bernhard as the co-host!

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Posted on May 11, 2009

Jam packed with quirky humor and two fisted action, I wasn't too shocked to learn that Secret Dead Men author Duane Swiercaynski also writes for Marvel comic books; this book was his first foray into fiction, though there've been a few since.

If you're religious, the story reads as a unique (even blasphemous) meditation on the soul and and the nature of after life; if you're not, then it's a metaphysical romp of a noir that even dips into shoot-em-up zombie head exploding territory.

Not the most sophisticated or flowery prose maker, Swiercaynski avoids the too common literary chip that bears down on the shoulder of most science fiction writers who, longing to attain some kind of non-genre validity, rely heavily on overly complex plotting and unsatisfying techniques like naming one character La'ai and another La'iaa. Swiercaynski's choice to write about complex ideas simply makes the book incredibly engaging.

Essentially, the story is about a collector, a man capable of absorbing souls and storing them in his brain (which he fashions into a hotel for their after life comfort). He uses this soul storing talent, plus an ability to change the appearance his face to bring down “the association” a mysterious Vegas force that destroyed his orginal body years ago.

The book is a great ride, it's quick and and it's fun and sometimes it even gets away from you a little bit, but somehow it all made a more sense once I started picturing Bruce Campbell as the protagonist.

See more: Books 2000s Noir Sci-Fi

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Posted on April 27, 2009