Performance Art Heart: Diffi-Cult Following

Arches and Apples Earrings

If it's weird for me to blog about a show that satirizes crafting on my blog that's mostly about crafting, then if nothing else, at least I'm consistent.  Over the years, I've posted about the Portlandia Etsy spoof, the Whitney Cummings Etsy dig, and my own unwitting star spot on handmade goods roast site Regretsy.  Which is my way of saying that I like laughing at myself and at people who laugh at themselves (and, okay, other people) too.

Enter Difficult People.  This Amy Poehler-produced Hulu original comedy (2015-2017) follows best friend comedians Billy Epstein (Billy Eichner) and Julie Kessler (Julie Klausner) as they snarkily stumble through their mid-thirties and auditions in New York City.  Both are Jewish; only Billy is gay.  It's like a mashup of Seinfeld, Will and Grace, and Curb Your Enthusiasm -- only meaner.  Indeed, in one episode, Billy and Julie describe themselves as a "homelier Will and Grace."  They're the kind of comedians who sacrifice everything (Billy's apartment is a shoebox that he Airbnbs to make extra cash) to claw their way into casting calls even though they -- and we -- know they'll never make it.  Not that that really matters, their dreams -- and the show -- being about the journey.       

Kiwi Cutie Earrings

Billy's day job is waiting tables at a quirky café; Julie's is writing reality show episode recaps.  During court-appointed community service for stealing flowers from an Alice in Wonderland memorial, Julie teaches recap writing to inmates and imparts this pearl: "Show recaps aren't about the show.  They're about you."  I like this, probably because it so closely parallels one of my favorite personal aphorisms: TV is always there for you, but you don't have to be there for (the people inside the) TV.  Romance-wise, Billy is always looking for love -- or at least his next hookup -- and Julie has a live-in boyfriend, the servile and long-suffering Arthur (James Urbaniak), who wears a bowtie and works for PBS.  Impervious to Julie's ingratitude (Where's dinner?!), affable Artie's only crime isn't even his but Urbaniak's, as he played the foot fetish shoe salesman who gave Charlotte a free pair of designer sandals on Sex and the City.  But then again, it's hard to blame Julie for haranguing Artie too much considering her monster mother, Marilyn (Andrea Martin).  Despite being a psychologist, this pint-sized narcissist manipulates Julie into doing her bidding, all while criticizing her appearance, boyfriend, and aspirations.  Of course, Marilyn also gives Julie money.  Because PBS and Real Housewives rants don't pay the bills.  

One of the things that bonds Julie and Billy -- other than their hard-bitten humor and hatred of all and sundry -- is their constant need for attention.  In one episode, Billy is all set to send former Monkee Micky Dolenz packing when the allegedly ailing entertainer begs him to produce his one-man show.  But then Dolenz goes on about how much he admires Billy, and Billy caves: "I have no problem walking away from a dying man, but not a dying fan."  Because that's the thing about this duo (Billy and Julie, not Billy and Micky).  Despite their prickly, don't-mess-with-me personas, their eager-to-please, theater kid self absorption makes them easy prey for any con man with a kind word.

Hearts and Arches Earrings

Nevertheless, at one point, Julie becomes so discouraged by the comedy rat race that she chucks it all to open a shop on Etsy.  Even though she refers to Etsy as a cult. (Yes, finally, the promised crafting connection!)  Her craft?  Wish bags for Midwesterners.  Don't ask me what a wish bag is, because I don't know, and neither does Julie.  But they sell like hotcakes, and Julie discovers that she prefers spending her days surrounded by things instead of people.

Same, Julie, same.

Still, I don't think I need to tell you that this life hack turns out to be as ironclad as those wish bags.  Bitter or not, Julie's got to get back up on that stage.  Because only trouble is interesting, and the show -- or in this case, showbiz -- must go on.

With witty one-liners, a galaxy of guest stars (Tina Fey!  John Mulaney!  Amy Sedaris!), and the kind of misanthropic humor that can thrive only on a sitcom full of eccentric, dysfunctional, and codependent heart, Difficult People is easy to love. 

Photo Shoot Reboot

These days, reboots are old hat.  From "Fuller House" to "The Conners" to "Will & Grace" to "BH 90210," everything old is new again and there's no such thing as closing the door.  So I decided to crack my own open.

Years ago, I used to regularly post pictures of myself in a -- segment?  column?  feature?  Let's just be honest and say vanity piece -- that I called Photo Shoot Friday.  And then I felt weird about it and stopped.  I even went so far as to delete (almost) all those posts.  Afterwards, I felt as if a weight had been lifted -- no more hanging around in my outfit until the husband got home to take the pictures, no more worrying that the outfits weren't good enough.  Then, this past winter, I gradually started getting back into it.  I'd be wearing an outfit I really liked and think, I want to be able to look at this years from now -- and, yeah, maybe let the world look at it, too.  So I did and it's been more fun this time because 1) I'm in a house and have more space to work with (although this first pic was taken at my parents'.  You know I can't keep flowers like those!)  and 2) I'm more relaxed.  I don't post the pics on a schedule (or any at all that I'm not reasonably happy with!), but instead just when I feel like it.  And I try not to obsess that they're not polished enough or high res enough but instead accept all their imperfections -- real or imagined -- because they're mine. 

Also, maybe the outfits are getting better, or maybe I am.  Or maybe it's a little of both.  If there's one thing I've learned in the ten years that I've been doing this, it's that the older I get, the wiser I get, and the more like myself I become.

I hear that Tori Spelling feels the same.

Movie Moment: Footloose

Oh, Footloose.  That quintessential tale of teenage rebellion.  Who could resist its conflicts between country and city, church and state, and authority and freedom?  Apparently not me because despite not being a huge fan of the original, I found myself queuing up for the remake.

This time breakout star Kenny Wormald fills Kevin Bacon's dancing shoes (sorry, I couldn't help myself) as Ren MacCormack, the city boy who moves to the small southern town of Bomont where dancing is a crime.  Armed with an attitude, Ren goes head to head with the man, who literally happens to be Minister Moore (Dennis Quaid), a key enforcer of the anti-dancing law and the father of Ariel Moore (Julianne Hough), the good girl-gone-bad with whom he's smitten.  Exploding cars compete with even more explosive dance numbers as Ren fights to free Ariel from her race car-driving redneck boyfriend and Bomont from its funk.  The highlight is Wormald's version of Bacon's iconic warehouse dance scene.  Infused with all the righteous teenage indignation of his predecessor, Ren number two busts out gymnastics moves to the rhythm of an appropriately updated iPod.  Anger never looked so good.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the remake is a little edgier than the original.  There's definitely more sex, as well as a deeper exploration of death.  Still, the original retains a melancholy all its own, as well as its signature 1980s appeal.  This is why I think Kevin Bacon was smart to decline making a cameo.  Such a move would have been a little cheesy.  (And speaking of Kevin, did anyone happen to catch that old "Will & Grace" episode where Jack [Sean Hayes] stalks Kevin only to have the star invite him in and signal the Footloose theme song with the clap of his hands?  Hilarious.)

Finally, I can't very well write a post about Footloose without commenting on the dancing.  It was good.  Darned impressive.  And that comes from someone whose dance skills fall somewhere in line with those of "Seinfeld's" Elaine.             

Promises, Promises

Yesterday, my mom and sister and I went to New York's Broadway Theatre to see "Promises, Promises," starring Sean Hayes and Kristin Chenoweth. It was a revival of a 1960s play of the same name, which was based on an earlier 1960s movie, The Apartment, starring Jack Lemon and Shirley MacLaine. In a nutshell, it was the story of a lowly office worker, C. C. "Chuck" Baxter, who gets sucked into lending his apartment to the senior executives for rendezvous with their mistresses only to discover that the girl he's in love with, Fran Kubelik, is his boss's, mistress. It's cute and campy yet underscored by the shadows of the male chauvinism that dominated the workplace of the 1960s. (One review I read aptly compared it to Mad Men.) But unlike Mad Men (SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!), "Promises, Promises," finds a moral high ground and stakes its claim there. Ever the "good guy," Chuck saves Fran after a failed suicide attempt brought on by the news that Mr. Sheldrake is not leaving his wife. By the time Mr. Sheldrake crawls back to report that he is, after all, free and asks for Fran's hand in marriage, she's already fallen in love with Chuck, securing the classic happy ending. Snappy dance numbers, stellar singing, and period humor made "Promises, Promises," a joy to watch. Incidentally, it also inspired me to commit to buying a fedora I'd been eying in JCPenney. (Chuck sports one despite his worry that it makes him look like James Cagney. His was gray; mine is pink and black.)

As a side note, it occurred to me that the movie The Baxter was probably based on Chuck Baxter's character. The Baxter is about Elliot Sherman (Michael Showalter), a guy who lets people walk all over him. Indeed, the name Baxter becomes synonymous with anyone who's a malleable yes man, establishing the theme of the movie. Elliot's fiancé (Elizabeth Banks) is cheating on him with her high school boyfriend, and he's powerless to stop her. Meanwhile, he becomes friendly with his offbeat temp secretary (Michelle Williams), who is enmeshed in a relationship with a Baxter of her own (the inimitable and always-easy-on-the-eyes Paul Rudd). In the end, Elliot gets jilted at the alter when the high school boyfriend busts in. Elliot ends up with the secretary, who has overthrown her own boyfriend for being too "Baxterish." Poor Paul Rudd ends up with no one. Although it's a little more complicated than The Apartment and "Promises, Promises," the parallels between C. C. Baxter and Elliot are definitely there.

Now that the deepness is over and done with, it's time to share an interesting tidbit I learned after reading the "Promises, Promises" playbill. It turns out that Sean Hayes (of Will and Grace fame) is the executive producer of that new TV Land sitcom Hot in Cleveland co-starring Betty White. Small world, huh?