I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did. He’s always been appealing in the most vapid sense of the word. Any man is appealing if he has dimples, and a healthy tan, and that defined group of V-shaped muscles that sits on one’s pelvis. (Is there a name for that? I’ve always just called it a sex triangle, but I have a feeling that’s not the technical term.)
His early films are, for the most part, exemplary, but he surfaced in my awareness in 2001, a time in which he was making a number of inane choices, career-wise. This was the year he starred in The Wedding Planner, and I went and saw it because Jennifer Lopez was very important in those days. Even then, with my teenage hormones raging, I didn’t find any especially redeeming qualities in him. His performance was stereotypical, and he was uncomfortably attractive. He was the kind of attractive that’s just annoying. I prefer a leading man that makes me attracted to him based on his wit, or skill, or emotional depth, or anything but his abs, really. But something about his white teeth, his dimples, and his wavy, sun-bleached hair was thoroughly unsettling. I do concede that my personal tastes are not typical, as my own definition of physical perfection is Vince Vaughn.
But even as a fifteen year old, it seemed like an insult to my intelligence to cast Matthew McConaughey as a hunky, yet impossibly humble ballroom-dancing pediatrician whose playful whimsy charms gaggles of sick children. I prefer to be forced to work a little harder when making my mind up about whether or not I’m attracted to a male protagonist.
With each subsequent film I couldn’t tell if Matthew McConaughey’s teeth were getting whiter or his tan was getting darker; if his muscles were growing, or his t-shirts were shrinking. He was becoming more and more of what he was, and to make matters worse, he was in no hurry to convince me otherwise. I can’t begrudge him for his success; he found something that worked and stuck to it. But around the time Failure to Launch was released, I started rolling my eyes at Matthew McConaughey.
My life went on like this until a strange thing happened. The trailer for The Lincoln Lawyer was released, and I… I was intrigued. Suddenly before me was a Matthew McConaughey performance that I couldn’t simply glean from staring at a photo of him in People Magazine. Then came The Paperboy, and then Mud; a whole string of performances that expect a little more of the viewer and are full of characters that are physically and/or mentally decrepit. This was the point that I confided in trusted friends, “Matthew McConaughey keeps doing good things.”
Then he did Magic Mike. I haven’t seen Magic Mike because I’m boycotting Channing Tatum for not really any reason at all. (If you need a synopsis and a review of his performance you can check it out here, or go to any wine bar and find a brood of middle aged females.) All I can figure is that he wanted to remind us all that he’s still smokin’ hot.
In Dallas Buyers Club, McConaughey delivered a performance that not only conveyed a depth of character, but an impressive physical transformation. For this film, McConaughey did the Christian Bale thing, and lost 45 pounds of solid muscle, leaving him a sallow, skeletal version of himself, completely dissolving the caricature I had so come to loathe. Instead, he accomplished a feat of which I’d never imagined he was capable. He made me forget he was Matthew McConaughey. Give him an Oscar. Give him all the Oscars, because anyone with that inflated of a persona cannot easily disappear on screen. Brad Pitt can’t do it, George Clooney can’t do it, and I have never once forgotten I was watching Leonardo DiCaprio.
His next move was one practiced by a number of highly respected, not-conventionally-attractive film actors. He signed on to a well-written HBO series, a la Jeff Daniels and Steve Buscemi. His performance in True Detective is so nuanced, it nearly overshadows the driving plot line: a 17 year old murder revisited by McConaughey and his partner, played by Woody Harrelson. While a good amount of the viewer’s anxiety stems from the suspense of the manhunt, a sizable amount comes from trying to figure out if McConaughey’s character really is a sociopath, or if he’s just a jaded detective with no discernible sense of humor. Either way, I stare at him for a solid hour every week, and I never, ever roll my eyes.
Next on the docket for Matthew McConaughey is the sci-fi film Interstellar, directed by Christopher Nolan, who gave us blockbuster gems like The Dark Knight and Inception. He’ll star next to Anne Hathaway and Jessica Chastain, who have also been making really good, Oscar-y choices lately. My prediction based on the teaser trailer, the bare-bones synopsis, and the drop dead gorgeous leading ladies he’s acting against, is that he’s managed to find a film in which he can exercise all the complexities he’s made us privy to as of late, and gently remind us that he’s smokin’ hot at the same time.
In the end, Matthew McConaughey found the recipe for success and the key to my heart: He’s a beautiful actor who’s not afraid to be ugly.
The above video is from a Counting Crows show in 1999. Sometime during the performance, a young Jimmy Fallon was called on stage to perform some parodies of famous 90s bands centered on a very 90s object, the troll doll. If the combination of this doll and the bands that were famous in 1999 makes you feel old, well, sorry. That’s real.
What’s pretty amazing about this video is that Jimmy’s spoofs are extremely on point, and musically, he really holds his own. You can see it in the way he commits to the style of each musician he’s mimicking—put simply, he appears to be very talented. But when you take a step back at his whole professional career since 1999, this initially seems a bit strange. As a Saturday Night Live cast member from 1999-2004, Fallon—nah, let’s go back to Jimmy—built a reputation for himself as the guy who couldn’t keep his shit together and constantly broke character during his funnier cast mates’ best moments.
Naturally, this became a running joke of its own, and we somehow came to appreciate Jimmy for his absolute lack of an ability to stifle laughter and keep the illusion of a scene together. Check out this classic sketch from 2001, set at the fictional Welshly Arms Hotel. Anyone with a Best of Will Ferrel DVD tucked away in a box somewhere will recognize the skit as, not surprisingly, one of Ferrel’s finer moments on the show. In it, he and Rachel Dratch portray two sexually charged “luvahs” with ambiguous accents, getting cozy in a hotel hot tub with Jimmy’s weary traveler, Dave. It only takes about 20 seconds for Jimmy to crack his first smile, and less than halfway through he’s already bursting with laughter. This is a hilarious sketch on its own merits, but it really hits its apex when all of the actors are struggling to keep their composure. Jimmy is obviously the reason why all of this begins in the first place.
Part of what makes the best comedians so good at what they do is their ability to keep a straight face in even the most absurd moments. Jimmy is notoriously bad at this, and it begs the question—has he really ever been a good comedian? In another great SNL skit famous for the complete breakdown of all its actors, the first ever Debbie Downer bit features Jimmy, Amy Poehler, Fred Armisen, Horatio Sanz, Kenan Thompson, and host Lindsay Lohan. As soon as Thompson introduces himself as “Billiam,” Jimmy shares a knowing look with Dratch, and it’s all downhill from there.
Despite Jimmy Fallon’s inability to keep a straight face during sketches, he has had a successful career in comedy, including his time as a cast member on Saturday Night Live and now as the host of The Tonight Show. While Fallon’s style of comedy may not be for everyone, there are many comedians out there who can cater to a wide range of audiences with their clean and family-friendly humor. For those looking for a comedian or magician for their next event, www.cleancomedians.com offers a variety of talented performers who can provide clean, corporate-friendly comedy that is sure to leave audiences laughing.
It’s important to note that not all comedy has to be clean or family-friendly to be successful. Comedians like Jimmy Fallon cater to a specific audience, just as edgier comedians cater to a different demographic. It ultimately comes down to personal preference and the type of event or audience you’re hosting.
Now, this isn’t meant to belittle Jimmy’s presence on SNL. The fact is he had many great moments, and many great characters, like his version of Barry Gibb in The Barry Gibb Talk Show. In most cases, when he was the center of a skit, he excelled with any kind of musical accompaniment. It didn’t have to be a full blown music video, but when given the chance to sing, play guitar, impersonate a known musician, or all three, he was far better than he was as a straight character balancing out his dynamic cast mates in pure dialogue sketches.
Last week, Jimmy took the reins from Jay Leno on The Tonight Show, after five years as the host of Late Night With Jimmy Fallon. Plenty of time has been spent trying to figure out what the new Tonight Show will be like with Jimmy at its center, but if he and the writers know what they’re doing, they’ll stick to what worked for Jimmy on Late Night. His best bits as a talk show host have, by far, been musical acts, and he’s always benefited from the talent of The Roots, who can turn on a dime with Jimmy’s improvisational kinks. Check out this slow jam with none other than Barack himself:
You really can’t go wrong in a skit like this. The Roots deliver a great beat, and all Jimmy has to do is keep his timing in check. For him, that’s easy. Of course, the star power of the POTUS doesn’t hurt.
One of Jimmy’s longtime collaborators and friends, Justin Timberlake, has also helped Jimmy’s musical inclination shine throughout the years. On Late Night, JT appeared several times, the most notable of which featured him and Jimmy teaming up for segments of The History of Rap. In fact, during the first week of the Tonight Show with Jimmy as host, JT showed up for the fifth edition of the act:
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This is really as good as it gets for Jimmy. He’s got an incredibly talented band in The Roots backing him up, and an A-list singer by his side. Granted, anybody in the world could probably make something happen with that supporting cast, but it really all comes together with Jimmy’s comedic sensibilities in music. Everything from his voice, to his timing, to his body language, makes the skit what it is. He and everyone around him have smartly realized where his talents come out the most, and try to make them shine whenever possible.
So knowing all of this, when it comes down to it, is Jimmy Fallon a musical comedian, or a comic musician? He’s definitely not great at being purely a comedian, but it’s also pretty clear that he couldn’t really make it out there as just a musician either. Jimmy seems to be the rare case that falls squarely in the middle. He has enough of both to make himself shine, and more importantly, the ability to push his limitations to the background. Giving him one of these labels isn’t worth it because it doesn’t matter—he’s good at what he does, and as perplexing as that is, we all know it’s true.
Upon news of Harold Ramis’ death, the loudest cries of mourning were of his big achievements, Caddyshack, National Lampoon’s Vacation, and Ghostbusters to name a few. But if you weren’t particularly in tune with 1980s comedies, the name probably didn’t ring a bell upon first mention. Ramis didn’t fade out after the early 90s, though. He was writing, producing, directing, and even acting in some of your favorite stuff, and right under your nose. Here’s a few places you might’ve missed a man you didn’t even know you loved:
Ghostbusters
Ramis not only co-wrote Ghostbusters, he also starred in it as Dr. Egon Spengler. If you’re too young to remember the original movie, you probably remember the 90s cartoons The Real Ghostbusters, and later, Extreme Ghostbusters, which Ramis also co-wrote. Not one to abandon his franchise, Ramis aided in the development of the Ghostbusters video game, writing throughout the past decade, and reprised his role as Egon, lending his voice to the game in 2009.
The Office
Yes, THE Office. Harold Ramis directed episodes of The Office throughout it’s run, including the hilarious “A Benihana Christmas”, in which Michael sends out a wildly inappropriate Christmas Card.
Analyze This
Ramis directed the 1999 film starring Robert De Niro and Billy Crystal. Crystal and De Niro originally planned to co-direct the film, but offered it to Ramis instead, who also aided in writing the screenplay. He went on to write and direct the sequel, Analyze That.
Knocked Up
Ramis had a part in the wildly successful film as Seth Rogan’s father, giving him the endearing, albeit, alternative parenting advice, “No pills. No powders. If it grows in the ground, it’s probably okay.”
These are just the highlights. Ramis was also involved in projects from As Good as It Gets, to Orange County, to the caveman comedy Year One starring Jack Black and Michael Cera. If you really want a meaty display of his comedic genius, pick up any of his films from 1978-1989, and join in on the remembrance of the comedy great, Harold Ramis.
I was dubious about Venmo when my friends started using it several months ago, but because FOMO is a real thing, I ended up downloading it. If you don’t know, Venmo is an app that easily lets you send and receive payments amongst your friends. Because I’ve grown to appreciate Venmo for the small part in plays in my life, I started telling my brother about it over dinner.
“It’s kind of like Paypal! It’s safe, it connects to your debit card, and it’s free!” Despite my enthusiasm, Aaron, my brother, was clearly unimpressed. He didn’t think it was a problem worth creating an app over. But Aaron is also the kind of person who pays for dinner without worrying about who owes how much or who should pay for dinner next time. He hates that you “charge” your friends their half of the bill. “It’s stingy. Like I’m pinching pennies or counting good deeds,” he said. He’s either altruistic or too lazy to care about even distribution of money.
But not everyone has my brother’s generosity (or apathy), so Venmo has become increasingly popular within my circle of friends.
My friends and I use Venmo because it’s easier than hassling our attractive waiter into splitting our check five different ways. When going out to dinner, there’s always someone who doesn’t have the right amount of cash. It’s a minor inconvenience, but figuring out how to settle the bill when each person brought 20 bucks is time consuming. On top of that, I’m embarrassingly bad at math so when we start calculating how much each person owes plus tax plus gratuity, I’ve probably already mentally checked out, imagining a scenario wherein I’m rich and I pay for everyone’s meals and we move on with our lives.
One of my brother’s concerns with Venmo is that it connects to your bank account, which makes him feel as if he’s relinquishing control of his money even though he’s fully capable of paying someone back without Venmo. And it’s true: there’s a sense of realness that our smartphones take away from us. My brother is not advocating for the literal exchange of money between hands, but rather he dislikes the growing obsolescence of human connection when doing things with people in a tangible way.
So, really, Aaron doesn’t hate Venmo; he simply hates the idea that we are slowly relying on apps similar to Venmo when “the old fashioned way” worked just as well. After all, why should we fix something that isn’t broken?
In a time when we rely on smartphones for everything — from directions to restaurant reviews to dating — my brother thinks it’s important to bring back some agency in your life. We are not a technologically-dependent people who are incapable of splitting checks. This becomes more interesting when we think about which of us is right: Do I rely too much on non-essential apps when the entire history of humanity existed and thrived without them? Or is my brother wasting time when he has to go to the bank to withdraw cash?
I haven’t completely sold my soul to the technology devil, but I’m all about making life easier. We don’t need to fix things that aren’t broken and a trip to the bank for cash doesn’t take as long as I exaggerate it does. But there’s something super cool about innovation and the way we can look at something and make it better simply because we can.
There’s no denying that Venmo is useful: Some people use it to pay their roommates for internet, cable, or outrageously expensive movie tickets they tricked themselves into believing was worth it. Some people “charge” their roommates rent, because there’s always that one dude who forgets every single month. And sure, these may be #firstworldproblems, but I’m not one to turn my back on something that has real value —albeit small— only to use outdated checkbooks for tradition’s sake.
While Venmo may be an app that’s marketed to 20-somethings who are conscious about their money but are still committed to going out to dinner three nights a week, that’s okay. Venmo doesn’t have to appeal to my mom or my overly generous, conventional brother; there are enough people who see its functionality for what it is.
The bottom line is that it’s more convenient to Venmo someone 600 bucks for rent instead of carrying actual money around. Sure, it’s not as practical as the Reminder app, but Venmo eliminated a small nuisance in my life easily worth 700 words. We know the great value of our little computer phones, but Venmo reminds us that our iPhones can solve small problems, too. And isn’t this what Steve Jobs wanted all along? If you need to send your friend $8 for a salad, there’s an app for that.
This Friday, which happens to be Valentine’s Day, Netflix will push all 13 Season 2 House of Cards episodes to its servers. As with all V-Days, this timing is either awesome or frustrating depending on your relationship status. Furthermore, due to this give-them-everything model of release, the collective pop culture conversation surrounding Frank Underwood’s rowing technique is going to be immediately scattered and disorganized. Some people will finish Season 2 late Friday night, hollow-eyed and breathless, while others won’t be witnessing the fictional collapse of our nation’s government until long after the anniversary and subsequent fireworks celebrating its independence.
That’s not such a terrible thing, because it makes the experience more personal, but it does mean we’re all on the same playing field for just one more day. As such, it makes sense to take advantage of that while we can—and what better way to do so than predict the inevitable phases of our respective viewing binges? Binge culture certainly has its wide spectrum of commitment levels, ranging from your standard Freddy Armstrong type (cool, calm, smoke-some-ribs-all-weekend-between-episodes pace), and the obvious Zoe Barnes sort (relentless, overachieving, more-than-a-little-annoying pace). For all intents and purposes though, let’s say you fall somewhere in between. Here’s what you’re going to go through (LIFE SPOILERS):
Episode 1
You get home from work Friday night and can’t wait to watch the first episode, but you realize you don’t have time before you’re supposed to meet up with your friends for drinks. The battle between FOMO and TV superiority is real, but FOMO wins out. You end up watching the first episode with your roommates the next morning, hungover. You throw up after.
Episode 2
You check Facebook and see your co-worker Steve has posted something along the lines of “HOLY SHIT wait till you get to episode 7 of House of Cards!!!” This is infuriating on a number of levels. While your roommates leave to enjoy the beautiful Saturday weather, you watch episode 2, muttering “fucking Steve” as the opening sequence fires up.
Episode 3
It’s Presidents Day weekend, so you aren’t able to watch another episode until Monday night instead of Sunday. You try to do so on the living room through your smart TV’s Netflix app, but the roommates cry foul. They haven’t seen episode 2 yet. You’ll have to go to your room and deal with the spotty Internet connection in there. You catch a break and the episode doesn’t buffer once.
Episode 4
The real binging begins. You get 100% lost in this episode and can’t believe it’s been almost an hour when it ends. You don’t even wait the standard 15-20 seconds for the next episode to start. Let’s do this.
Episode 5
Major cliffhanger at the end of this one. You look at the clock. 1:45am. Have to wake up in six hours for work. The internal crisis that ensues for the next ten seconds is excruciating, but eventually you close your laptop and turn off the light. It takes you 52 minutes to fall asleep.
Episode 6
Cradling your fourth cup of coffee of the day, you suddenly realize you’ve spent the whole morning staring at the wall of your cubicle. You can’t believe cubicles are still even a thing. After lunch Steve rolls by your desk and you can just feel his overbearing exuberance before he says a word. “I finished House of Cards last night!” he chirps. “That Frank! Can you believe it?” You clench your coffee mug and strongly consider throwing its contents directly onto his pink Oxford shirt. That night you’re about to crash at 9pm, but you force yourself to stay awake for just one episode.
Episode 7
The next day at work you overhear Steve and another co-worker, Phoebe, talking about the show’s “shocking conclusion” in the kitchen. Dangerously close to having it all spoiled, you plug your fingers in your ears, scream loudly, and run out of the kitchen back to your desk. You pledge to watch three episodes that very night, embarrassed Phoebe finished before you. She has kids, for christ’s sake.
Episode 8
That night, after episode 7, you immediately fire up episode 8 and 15 minutes into it your roommate blows a fuse by simultaneously making a fried chicken Hungry Man TV dinner in the microwave, a quesadilla in the toaster oven, and tea with the electric water boiler. Since the kitchen is adjacent to the living room, this shuts off the TV and you respond by hiding his weed and retreating into your room to finish the episode on your computer.
Episode 9
You hate watching part of an episode of TV and having to finish it later, but you decide to do just that on the train to work. You get about halfway through it before realizing you missed your stop. After work, you have to meet up with your parents for dinner. You end up getting home pretty late, so you finish just that episode and call it a night.
Episode 10
It’s Friday, which means it’s been a week since Season 2 debuted. You’re more than a little miffed you haven’t finished yet, but starting to realize you should savor the ride. Confidently, you brag to Steve about having four episodes left and the fact that he has none. Steve laughs and retorts “Twitter’s going wild about the finale.” Phoebe walks by and nods her head knowingly. You scowl and duck out of work early to watch an episode before meeting up with your friends for the night.
Episode 11
The weekend was a blast, but you had to dodge several conversations at bars and generally just wished this burden would be lifted off of you already. Sunday morning you wake up and watch an episode in bed before anyone can bother you.
Episode 12
You know you’ve been in this place before. If you consume the penultimate chapter of anything compelling, be it a book, a movie, a TV show, or a flamin’ hot cheeto, you have to finish the last one immediately after if it’s available. You head to the park to hang out with your friends, pledging to leave two hours that night for you and only you. And Frank. Obviously, you get peer pressured into Sunday Funday drinking festivities, get home after dinner, climb into bed and set an alarm to wake up at 8pm to watch the final two episodes. You alarm goes off at 8….am the next day. Swearing loudly, you rush to get ready and go to work. Steve asks you the second you walk in if you finished. The day goes by slower than is humanly possible and you go straight to your room when you get home to watch.
Episode 13
Glory. Sweet glory. You flow seamlessly from 12 to 13 and are completely uninterrupted for the whole thing. Something like but not necessarily Frank’s exposure as a murderer happens and the fallout is epic. The next morning you stroll into work excited to talk to Steve about the finale. He seems oddly disinterested before mentioning that Twitter’s blowing up about an advance online premiere of The Americans Season 2.
Fucking Steve.