If you aren’t prepared to spend two hours of your life and $10-$12 to see “Sex and the City 2,” just go for the 60-second version above. Hey, it’s pretty accurate. Keep reading »
Zergnet: Simply Irresistible
“Sex and the City 2” hits theaters today! Whether your reaction is a squeal or groan, it’s a big deal. Critics have given the “SATC” revival a beating for being materialistic and totally unrealistic, but all of them have admitted that the ladies will line up to lovingly consume the movie anyways, thanks to their extreme devotion to the TV show. Ta-da, box office success! Movie studios are getting this trick. There is now a growing roster of movies—both coming soon and just rumored—adapted from small-screen staples. After the jump, eight TV-to-film transfers that we’re excited for. Keep reading »
After that, John became persona non grata. Even this video he posted this month, called “A Life In the Day,” couldn’t redeem him.
But here’s the thing. Even after all the bonkers tweets and swarmy quotes,
See, I have spent countless nights falling asleep to John Mayer’s voice whispering from my speakers. I was a senior in high school when Room for Squares debuted. Before that, I had no point of reference in music. A good jam could get me dancing, but there was no musical artist who activated my soul and left an ineffaceable mark on it. Mayer unbuckled my musical chastity belt. I felt every song, as his lyrics took on a sweet synchronicity with my life and with my thoughts. Listening to his albums was like finishing a long run. Where at the crest of a hill, short of breath, I look at the view and think, “This is me. At least for now.”
I am not the type of fan to paste pictures of him on my wall, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have an inclination for the schmaltzy. I’ve never been to one of his concerts because I am holding out for my boyfriend to take me. I don’t need a concert, though, to celebrate Mayer’s music. It is the places I take his words with me that matter. As a student, with Mayer echoing from my dashboard, I started my five-hour drives between home and school. Despite the long highway, his melodies made me feel like I was home, back in a familiar rhythm. In 2006, when I was living in Paris, I took long walks, tuning out to the song “3×5.” It was during one of these strolls, when I was relishing the Belleville neighborhood I now miss, that I realized the name Mayer sounds like meilleur, the French word for “better.”
Back in the States, over a year later, I found out how much John Mayer’s fame had blown up. I was listening to “Gravity” in the dentist’s office while high-speed drills buzzed as if they were singing backup. Or in the grocery store, Mayer played as the intercom interrupted to announce specials on Country Crock margarine. Then, he himself transformed, going from a shaggy fluff hairdo to luscious locks and round cheeks to a chiseled jawbone. Hunky and borderline pretty, he became a bona fide rock star with a proclivity for high-profile relationships and kissing and telling. Maybe he’s not bothered by the reaction his behavior begets. Yet, for a man who creates original compositions, it seems like he’s stuck on repeat.
Picking up a 2009 magazine interview, I didn’t make it to the third paragraph before his Porsche Cayenne and Land Rover Defender got as many mentions as his manager. Mayer, it seemed, was making the transition from a man of music and depth to a man of acquisition and status. This set a glum and insincere tone to his art of melody for me from then on.
The dichotomy of John Mayer’s image and his tunes left me a confused fan. I wrestled with this for over a year, feeling silly for taking it too seriously, yet not silly enough to throw him back on my dream-time playlist.
When his latest album, Battle Studies, came out I waited months before buying it. I tiptoed past it in the record store and then would look back, unsure which part of the musician I’d be getting, the contrived rock star or the lyrical wunderkind. In order to avoid last-moment register retreat, I took standing in line out of the equation and bought the album on iTunes by simply pressing “enter.” Alone in my room I played the album once, twice, three times, and afterward I kept thinking, Damn John, you did it again. His music peeled away emotional layers that weigh me down, leaving me lucid and light.
I now know that is more than I could ever ask for in a musician. Yes, the fame is there. But the music came first; it always does.
Critics have been panning “Sex and the City 2.” MTV’s Kurt Loder described it as “a ghastly mess, a stake in the heart of the great TV series that ran from 1998 to 2004. This second ‘SATC’ movie (I liked the first one) is misconceived on every level.” OK, so there’s really no comparison to the TV show, which is in a totally different league than the sequel. But I wouldn’t say “SATC 2″ is a mess that can’t be enjoyed. I saw a screening of it last night and actually LOL’d (a rarity for me) at all the Samantha sex jokes, and I oohed and ahhed at the posh accommodations Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha enjoyed in Abu Dhabi. But these aren’t the only reasons you should see this rom-com, which should be enjoyed simply as that. Check out 10 more SPOILER-FREE reasons to see “Sex and the City 2,” after the jump. Keep reading »
Hands down, the best thing about working at The Frisky is our amazing readers. We so heart all of your witty, thoughtful, and informative comments—heck, we even appreciate the mean ones. Sometimes, we can’t help but wonder about the faces behind avatars. We decided to launch a weekly column where we learn all about a Frisky reader. After the jump, meet Singlegirl@31, one of our most prolific commenters. Keep reading »
Last night Nicole Scherzinger was the 10th star to claim the mirrored ball on “Dancing with the Stars.” The lead Pussycat Doll went up against Olympic figure skater Evan Lysacek and ESPN anchor Erin Andrews and came out victorious. Many predicted that Scherzinger would win from the start based on her spectacular performances and stage presence, not to mention her extensive dance history as a member of PCD. But Lysacek and Andrews gave her a good run for her money, bringing an enjoyable end to a season of controversy.
Was it me, or was season 10 the most exciting ever? Kate Gosselin‘s diva behavior, Jake Pavelka‘s cornball glances at Vienna Girardi, and Nicole’s spats with Pamela Anderson made it must-watch TV, not to mention Elisabeth Hasselbeck’s major snafu regarding Erin Andrews’ wardrobe. The show seriously picked the right contestants this time around. To help them out for season 11, here are the 15 stars we’d love to see do the rumba next. Keep reading »
Sometimes I think it would be so much easier to be a woman in Jane Austen’s time. You know, like having only three dresses to choose from, communicating only by letter, and being told you will be married to your second cousin so you can inherit a big estate. That almost doesn’t seem so bad compared to that which is the modern dating scene. Sure, it may seem terribly anti-feminist (and kind of gross), but just think of all of the headaches you’d be spared. Keep reading »
I don’t know if you guys realize this, but it’s almost summer. And if you remember what happened last summer, I’ll remind you delicately—stars fell left and right. I think that this time around, we need to take better care of them. “Intervention” has a lot of work to do and to maintain balance, we might need some new celebrity babies. And who’s gonna be there when all this goes down? The tabloids. Hooray! And celebrities are like fairies—you have to believe in them. After the jump, the most interesting, maybe-true stories from this week’s tabloids. Keep reading »