Oh no. No, no. I know you think it's easy. I mean, you probably think
I just sit around all week eating chocolates, watching TV, and drooling
over hotties, right? It's never occurred to you that this might not
be as easy as I make it look, has it. HAS IT!?
Well, let me tell you something, people. This job is HARD. And what's
more, the pay is absolute crap. The last three weeks in particular have
been even more torturous than usual. Why? Because I've been driving
myself absolutely INSANE struggling to decide who to feature next. I've
been trying to get at least two write-ups a month posted this year,
and as July's minutes tick-tocked right past me, I began growing more
and more anxious about getting my second write-up posted before the
31st rolled around (which, obviously, I failed to do). I felt like I
was spending all my free time working on write-ups. But I just couldn't
seem to get any of them finished.
The problem? All three of the guys I've been working on lately are
on summer season TV shows, each one of which airs on a different night
of the week. I start with Tuesday, when Eureka with Colin Ferguson
airs on Sci-Fi, and great jehosephat, is that man ever gorgeous! Not
to mention funny as heck. Deadly combo. So, naturally, come Wednesday,
I'm scribbling away at his write-up like a woman possessed. Possessed
by HOTNESS.
Just as I start to get into a groove, though, Thursday rolls around,
bringing with it USA's Burn Notice starring Jeffrey Donovan.
Come 10pm when the closing credits roll, I've tossed Colin's write-up
aside like it's yesterday's Spaghetti-O's and moved on to Jeffrey's
for the third time in a month. But before I even get to the paragraph
on Blair Witch 2: Electric Boogaloo (not it's real title, alas),
it's Friday night again and back on the USA Network comes James Roday's
Psych, a show I confess has taken over Monk'sposition as my number one favorite television comedy. Sorry, Adrian!
This has been the last three or four weeks for me, people. Every other
day, I've flip-flopped again. It all depends on whose show I last saw.
And this has, quite frankly, turned into torture of the worst kind.
At first I thought about just doing a threesome. But it's absolutely
LAME to feature three Boyfriends in one write-up, especially when they
have nothing in common. I mean, it was one thing to do a post on the
entire male cast of Serenity
-- at least they were all in the same flick together. But I don't even
think Jeffrey, Colin, and James are connected via six degrees of Kevin
Bacon.
I tried to focus, focus, focus, but no matter what I did, things were
simply not progressing. By the last week of July, I couldn't even bear
to watch any more of their movies for research, I was so paralyzed by
indecision. Finally, I decided the only rational solution was to launch
a new series, which, after some deliberation, I've decided to call the
Series of Unfortunate Intents (my apologies to Lemony Snicket,
of course) -- "Intents" because I intended to feature the
first guy, and then I saw the second guy and intended to feature HIM,
until I saw the THIRD guy. . . and "Unfortunate" because,
well, I like to whine.
This week, then, represents the first in the trilogy, and to put a
permanent end to the waffling, I decided to let my profession be my
guide when it came to picking who got to go first. As my profession
is "librarian," they are therefore going up alphabetically,
which isn't all that original, I know, but it sure beats attempting
to classify them using the Dewey Decimal System and then putting them
in numerical order. Trust me on that one.
And so, without further ado, allow me to introduce this week's alphabetically-primo
hunk, Jeffrey Donovan, star of USA's new spy-comedy, Burn
Notice.
Now, I've actually known Jeffrey for a while, though I confess I never
really thought of him as Boyfriend material until Burn Notice
started up this summer. I'd seen him a couple of years ago when he was
in a short-lived cable series (also on USA) called Touching Evil.
That show, based on a British series of the same name, was about a detective,
Dave Creegan (played by Jeff), who had just returned to work at the
FBI's Organized and Serial Crime Unit after a year spent recovering
from a near-fatal bullet to the brain. Though he was widely known as
one of the best detectives around, after his injury, he wasn't quite
the same. He turned a bit socially-inacceptably blunt, a bit unstable.
And also just the sliiiiiiiightest bit sarcastic (note: when you read
that last sentence in your head, use a REALLY sarcastic tone for full
effect).
Cute, troubled, tough, and a total wiseass -- yum!
The show only lasted a season, which was too bad, though I kind of
understood why. Sure, it had a fairly original concept -- putting an
emotionally unstable guy in a unit that investigates some of the most
brutal and disturbing crimes there are is kind of like sending the crazy
after the crazies. But, for the most part, it was too familiar and derivative.
There was a definite Mulder and Scully vibe between Dave and his much-more-mentally-stable
female partner, and the cases were kind of ho-hum as well. In any case,
I was still really enjoying it, but wasn't surprised when, after it
ran its full set of 12 initial episodes, it never returned again. Oddly,
it hasn't come out on DVD yet either, which surprises me, but if you're
interested, you can catch the pilot episode, broken into several 8-10
minute chunks, on YouTube.
Now that Burn Notice has established itself as a show to be
reckoned with, however, I wouldn't be surprised if Touching Evil
finally did make it to DVD. Jeffrey's not exactly what you'd call a
household name yet, but this show, I think, has the potential to finally
get his career going gangbusters. He first started acting seriously
back in about 1997 or so, when he landed a role on the soap Another
World (though he'd had a few bit parts here and there before that).
A few years later, he got a four-episode gig on the popular series The
Pretender, playing Jarod's brother Kyle. (What's weird is that I
must have seen those episodes, as I watched quite a bit of the show
while researching my write-up on series star Michael
T. Weiss, but I confess I don't really remember seeing Jeff at all.
Either he didn't stand out to me at the time, or I somehow managed to
miss him completely -- not sure which, or what that says about either
one of us!)
Instead, the first thing I really remember noticing Jeffrey in, for
better or for worse, was a movie I bet he and everybody else thought
was going to make them an absolute fortune. UN-fortune-ately
(har!), it was so amazingly awful even *I* could barely stand to watch
it (and you guys know me -- I saw Bad Girls IN THE THEATER).
That movie? Blair Witch 2: Book of Shadows. Which I like to
call Blair Witch 2: Book of Poo. Not only does MY title RHYME,
but it's also, quite frankly, far more accurate.
Before I go ahead and finish with my ranty trashing of Book of Poo,
though, I should state for the record that the original Blair Witch
Project is one of my all-time favorite scary movies. I saw it in
the theater with my husband (who was one of the unlucky few who got
motion sickness from the swoopy camera work -- sorry, honey) and when
we left the theater, I was shakin' like a James Bond martini. The only
other movie that's ever freaked me out to a comparable degree was ex-Boyfriend
Christopher Eccleston'sShallow Grave, and in both cases, I made my husband drive us
straight to a bar so I could suck down a shot of vodka STAT and attempt
to shake off the little frissons of fear that were zapping up and down
my spine and making my hands shake like an alcoholic gone cold turkey.
Of course, there were things about Blair Witch I criticized
from the very moment I calmed down -- primarily, I remember railing
against the absurdity of a woman who had opened the film by pointing
out all the many books on wilderness survival she'd read to prep for
the trip and then didn't know to follow the river the moment she realized
she was lost, particularly after she'd "walked south ALL DAY"
and wound up in the same exact spot she'd started out from. Must've
skipped that chapter, eh? Whoops.
That said, I still found the movie extremely effective (by which I
mean: totally freakazoidal) -- you know that final scene, when Heather
comes down the stairs and sees Mike standing in the corner? I can't
think of that moment NOW without my stomach clenching into a tight little
fist of fear. Which is pretty ridiculous given the fact I've probably
seen the movie at least fifty times by now. It's weird, but sometimes
I like to put it on while I'm doing other stuff and let it play in the
background like it's music. I have no idea why, except that as a fan
of horror movies, as someone who really watches a LOT of them, there
is nothing I respect more than a horror movie that not only scares me
half to death, but does it without even once showing me anything tangible
to fear. It's like the first half of Jaws, where you famously
don't ever see the shark. Shakespeare knew this too -- it's the things
you DON'T see that are always the most terrifying.
And that, in a nutshell was the problem with Blair Witch 2.
It's like the writers/directors completely forgot what it was about
the original that made it so interesting and unique, and instead went
right back to the standard horror movie cliches: "Boo!" music
inserted at all the critical moments, blood and gore, naked boobs, bad
dialogue, scenes set in insane asylums, etc. etc. etc.
As with the original, the movie is intended to sort of be "non-fictiony"
-- the story opens in Burkitsville after The Blair Witch Project
"documentary" has exploded all over the world, and the town
has since turned into a total tourist mecca. People come from every-which-where
to take tours of the haunted woods where Heather, Mike, and Josh were
so horrifically tormented and tortured years before.
Donovan's character, also named Jeffrey, lives in an enormous, creepy,
old factory (of course) and runs one of the new tour guide businesses
in the area. His tour group this time consists of a goth girl, a Wiccan
girl, and a married couple who bicker a lot (as all movie marrieds must).
The group plans to camp out in the same ruins where the original Blair
Witch footage was found, but while the night starts out fun, with
drinking and spooky ghost stories around the camp fire, things get weird
when, seemingly moments later, the group awakens to find the sun up,
their camp trashed, their cameras missing, and a whole block of time
erased from their memories.
The only clue to where that time went is some footage on a video camera
(sound familiar?) and so they retreat to Jeffrey's spooky ol' house
to take a closer look. When they finally realize what they need to do
is play the tape backwards (Paul is dead!), they are shocked to see
themselves in the throes of what looks like a hedonistic orgy of booze
and nekkidness (enter: mandatory boob scene). Things go downhill from
there when Jeffrey gets a call from the local sheriff, who tells him
not to leave home because he's just found the tortured, dead bodies
of a rival tourist group arranged in a pentagram on Coffin Rock, and
he thinks Jeffrey and his group did it. And then weird things happen.
And then one of them gets killed. And then one of the others kills someone
else. And then there's some more stupid bickering. And then Jeffrey
drinks ANOTHER pot of coffee. And then blah blah blah.
My god, insufferable! And I realize it was terribly naive of me to
think this movie could possibly be any good whatsoever -- since when
are horror movie sequels EVER ANY GOOD, MEG? But at the same time, the
original had been so. . . ORIGINAL. I mean, those guys clearly knew
how to make a really great scary movie. So, what the hell happened?
That said, the one thing that makes this miserable waste of two hours
worth the $3.49 rental fee is . . . drumroll please. . . Jeffrey Donovan
(you knew I was going to say that, right?). He's cute. He's funny. He
has a scene that includes a shot of his nekkid fanny (note: it's quite
nice). He clearly wasn't taking this movie all that seriously (too bad
the writer and director didn't share in that attitude). In fact, he
was so totally cute in this movie I didn't even roll my eyes a SINGLE
TIME at the story line, so unwilling was I to allow them to move away
from Jeffrey's addictive visage.
Now THAT'S love, people! And also, PATIENCE. And also, kind of a creepy,
staring, stalker thing. . . Sorry.
But enough about the crappy movie, let's talk about the truly entertaining
one, which didn't feature Jeffrey in a starring role, but did have him
cast in a smarmy part that is pretty unforgettable (and which he was
clearly having a lot of fun with). That movie is the extremely
charming romantic comedy Hitch, starring ex-Boyfriend Will
Smith and future Boyfriend (because of this movie alone) Kevin James.
In this one, Smith plays Hitch, a relationship coach known by some as
the "Date Doctor." James plays his latest client, Albert,
an overweight, schlubby accountant who has fallen madly in love with
a famous, blonde, gorgeous singer named Allegra Cole. Though the movie
goes pretty much as you'd expect it to, with Albert finally winning
over the love of his life by acting like his normal, extremely-dorky
self, and Hitch realizing it's time he learned some of his own lessons
as he too begins to fall in love, there are some scenes in this movie
that just had me laughing my big white butt off, if you'll pardon the
expression.
Case in point: this
dancing scene. Oh man, I have no idea why the "white guys dancing"
schtick is always so funny, but seriously, I cannot WAIT to practice
that Q-Tip move before my next trip to a dance club. Kevin James should
totally take that act to the auditions for next season's So
You Think You Can Dance.
In addition to these two movies, Jeff's been in a number of others
(most of which I couldn't find on DVD), as well as a ton of TV shows,
including Crossing Jordan (he had a five-episode stint in its
last season as the guy investigating the morgue for financial discrepancies
-- also a fairly sarcastic character, which seems to be Jeff's "thing,"
for the most part), Monk, Threshold, Witchblade,
and even an episode of Homicide: Life on the Street (as well
as every actor's mandatory Law & Order episode).
But, as I said earlier, I think Jeff's career is finally about to take
off for real with his latest series on the USA Network. Burn Notice
has been getting solid ratings and good critical support -- fans are
watching, critics are praising, and those of us who have longed to bear
Bruce Campbell's children
for decades are absolutely OVER THE MOON (man, it's about damn time
that man got a regular gig!). One of the things I really appreciate
about USA is that they actually give their shows a chance to succeed.
They advertise them heavily, they develop solid web sites for them with
entertaining features (Sam's
Stash on the BN site is a pretty clever little mystery
game, and who can resist the "Psych Out" outtakes onPsych's page?), and they never boot a series after
only airing one or two episodes, like we so often see on the regular
networks these days.
The show itself, for those of you who haven't watched yet, focuses
on a contract CIA agent, Michael Weston (Donovan), who is in the middle
of a job when the agency suddenly cuts him off -- issues a "Burn
Notice" on him. The next thing he knows, he's been drugged and
dumped in Miami, where he wakes up with no ID, no money, and a tail
of two Feds (sounds like a Dickens novel, doesn't it?). To try to make
a little money, Michael teams up with another ex-spy named Sam Axe (Campbell's
character), who now spends most of his time drinking, going after rich
women, and solving a few crimes here and there for pocket change.
Also in Miami is Michael's fiery ex-girlfriend Fiona (Gabrielle Anwar),
who started the series with an absolutely abominable Irish accent, but
dropped it in the second episode, when, according to her character,
she needed to switch to an American accent for some scheme she had in
the works (Fi's a criminal, by the way). At first, I thought this might
be something they had planned to do all along -- that one of Fi's characteristics
would be a periodic switch of accents, which could be pretty fun even
if most of them were as ridiculously awful as the Irish one had been.
As it turns out, though, Fi's stuck with the American one ever since,
which pretty strongly suggests to me that the switch was purely because
the show's creators realized she wasn't fooling anyone with that horrendous
Irish brogue. That, of course, begs the question: How come it took THEM
so long to figure that out, when the rest of us were cringing a mere
five minutes in? In any case, we do have to give Gabby chops for sounding
like a pretty authentic American -- a number of people who have chatted
with me about the show haven't realized that Gabrielle is actually still
doing an "accent." She was born and raised in England!
In addition to her many accents, Fiona's got serious spy skills herself
-- she's an ex-terrorist for the IRA -- so it's a good, if volatile
match-up. But even more volatile is Michael's relationship with his
mother, played by the awesome Sharon Gless (AKA Detective Christine
Cagney from Cagney & Lacey!). And recently added to the mix,
though he's still showing up as a "guest star" so it may not
be for much longer, is ex-Boyfriend Seth
Peterson as Michael's somewhat-estranged brother.
I should also mention, of course, that nearly every critic I've read
so far has compared Burn Notice to MacGyver, and if
that isn't enough to get you to tune in, I think you're probably beyond
salvation at this point.
Oh, that's a terrible thing to say -- I'd never give up on you guys!
And besides, there's still hope -- you have plenty of time to prove
me wrong. So tune into Burn Notice Thursday nights on USA and
let me know what you think. And then, of course, be sure to come back
here in about 1-2 weeks for installment two of the Series of Unfortunate
Intents, which I can tell you right now will be about Eureka's
star, Colin Ferguson. I should warn you, however, that so far, I haven't
been able to write more than "Eye crinkles!" before I begin
drowning in my own drool. I have faith that I'll be able to get my saliva
under control in time to get it posted before too much more time passes,
though, so stayed tuned!
MacGyver Factor Score: 98.289%. Points off for participating
in one of the most depressingly awful movie sequels of all time
and not even having the common decency to feel bad about it. Whatever,
man. Points back, though, for looking so damn good in white suits
and shades. Mrrrrrrow!