You may know I'm not the biggest fan of summer. Sure, TV's less of a wasteland than it used to be June through August, and there were some halfway decent movies in the theaters this year. But as the days wore on, I still found myself checking fall premiere dates and looking longingly ahead to Oscarbait. Fall may not technically start for a few weeks, but with Labor Day past us (and despite the fact that it hit 90 out there today), I'm declaring summer officially over.

But first, I'm looking back. Because though I may bitch and complain about my least favorite season, I did manage to keep myself fairly well entertained this year. These are the five things that I most enjoyed in between cases of heat exhaustion:

I owe rm one for insisting in comments to my post about the Tonys that Passing Strange was something special, and needed to be seen in context, context being something that one underwhelming televised song performance couldn't provide. Her rave was in the back of my mind when, on a restless weekend when my husband was out of town, I took advantage of the newly opened TKTS booth near me on a whim and scored myself a half price orchestra seat for one of the final performances. Excellent move. It's the most emotionally and ideologically sophisticated piece of theatre I've ever seen. It also rocks; I'd never seen an entire Broadway audience literally bounce around in their seats before. Luckily, Spike Lee was there the same day I was, filming the show for broadcast in 2009, where it will hopefully be discovered by those who couldn't catch it during its all too brief run.

Unconvinced that the network that considers the works of Jean-Claude Van Damme Classically American was likely to be behind quality original programming, I skipped the first season of Mad Men when it aired last year. But since the buzz built and built, I eagerly Netflixed it. It quickly turned into a running downstairs late at night to drop outgoing discs into the mailbox for the early pickup so I could get more ASAP situation. It has a Sopranos-esque depth (which isn't surprising considering that's where the creator cut his dramatic teeth), only with superior female characters and kickass production design. Season 2 is really cooking now, and wow, is it great. I suspect it may remain my favorite hour of TV even after other shows start returning.

Because of a series of programming conflicts, I also missed Cranford when it was on PBS in May. Despite its flawless pedigree, I sort of dragged my feet when it came to getting around to it on DVD, having surpassed even my very high limit on costume drama after all those weeks of Austen on Masterpiece Theatre. But then I suddenly found myself in the mood again and was richly rewarded. I sobbed my way through a good deal of it (yes, I consider that a good thing). Everyone in it is fantastic, but I especially enjoyed seeing a side of Philip Glenister that I hadn't seen before. And now I absolutely need to see every Elizabeth Gaskell adaptation ever made. You're next, North and South!

I must have some special kind of amnesia, because somehow, I always forget how much I enjoy the Olympics until I find myself on the edge of my couch, rooting hard for some athlete I'd never previously heard of competing in a sport I don't actually care about. The Michael Phelps thing is totally played out by now, and I'll be completely sick of him by the time he shows up to host Saturday Night Live, but it really was exciting to watch him be so freakishly good. And props to Yimou Zhang for a gorgeous opening ceremony, too. I don't know that they'll ever top that torch lighting.

Okay, please don't be too quick to judge me for getting a good deal of pleasure out of the Twilight series, which I consumed in one big weeklong binge courtesy of my library. My god, do those books suck. Suck, suck, suuuuuuck. The writing is frequently amateurish, the plot is sometimes absent for three quarters of a volume, and many of the characters have no discernable personalities. The "heroine" is the Sue-iest Sue who ever did Sue, and if she has more than a couple of redeeming qualities, I did not spot them. But it's so perversely fun to hate her. Most of the time I was reading with my mouth open in either horror at their deeply disturbing sociopolitical underpinnings or the sheer cracked out-ness of where the story goes and goes and then goes some more in WTeverlovingF-inducing fashion. Sadly, I will totally be going to see the movie in November, as though I'm loathe to throw any actual money Stephenie Meyer's way, I am unable to resist the opportunity to laugh my ass off at the absurdity that is vampires in baseball uniforms. For I, unlike the Cullens, am not made of stone.

As I watched them live, I could have properly liveblogged the Tonys, but there are about two people on my flist who won't breeze right on past this as it is, so I wasn't going to push it with multiple entries.

( And I'll also cut this for ease of ignoring, because it got surprisingly long. )

As the year winds down, here are ten things that made my 2007 a pretty damn good one, in no particular order.

Harry Potter
Enough said (and said, and said), really. No other entertainment provided me with as many hours of pure geeky glee. If we didn't still have two more movies to look forward to, I'd be embarrassingly sad. J.K. Rowling deserves all the praise she's getting on so many year-end roundups.

Pushing Daisies
I was skeptical, I really was. I expected to be killed by an overdose of precious by the end of the pilot. And while I still wince when Kristin Chenoweth opens her mouth to sing, I'm otherwise entirely delighted. The aunts rule. Anna Friel and Lee Pace are adorable. And if Chi McBride -- whose arrival on the screen now makes me laugh before he even says a word -- isn't nominated for an Emmy, I may scream.

Once
Again, I was wary of the hype, particularly since it grew out of the increasingly slick Sundance festival. Cut to me sitting in the theater, eyes streaming with tears as I watched the two characters make music together for the first time, more than sold. It was the most transcendent scene in any movie I saw this year. Deceptively simple, totally swoonworthy.

This American Life
I'd listened to TAR for years, but my interest had waned a bit. But then I saw the show live, the risky TV show ended up being really good, and one of the new episodes even had a segment that somehow managed to make me like both my least favorite correspondent and freakin' Phil Collins. Sorry I doubted you there for a minute, Ira.

Radio Lab
Another reason for the TAR love: it introduced me to this show, possibly the least dry, most addicting science program ever. I downloaded the episode with the borrowed story, got so sucked in by it that I nearly missed my stop on the train, and came home and swiftly acquired the entire run. It's like nothing I've heard on the radio before, and I can't wait for season four.

The Office
They got off to a bit of a shaky start this season, but even the relatively problematic episodes are still a joy. I still can't get through the ends of "Business School" or "The Job" without getting choked up. The strike hasn't gotten too painful for me yet, but I do feel a twinge every time an Office-less Thursday goes by.

Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time
I checked this book out of the library pretty early in the year, and I'd sort of forgot about how much I loved it until I saw the newly-released paperback while Christmas shopping and was seized by the desire to pick it up for myself. I resisted out of thrift, but if you like good, personal music writing, you shouldn't.

Spring Awakening
Broadway has gotten so expensive that I choose my shows wisely these days, using the Tonys as a kind of live shopping guide. Totally impressed, I puchased tickets the night this won Best Musical, and it turned out to be money very well spent. I'm so glad I got to see the recently-departed John Gallagher Jr.'s brilliant, heartbreaking Moritz. Best theatrical experience I've had in ages.

Amy Winehouse
It's been a long time since I heard a voice that made me go out and buy a record without knowing anything much about the artist, but that's what I decided to do about three seconds into her introductory clip on an old episode of Never Mind the Buzzcocks. Back to Black is the rare record that's good all the way through. Let's just hope she sticks around to make more music.

Movie comedies
This was the year I laughed my ass off at the movies. I saw four really outstanding, smart comedies: Hot Fuzz, Knocked Up, Superbad, and Juno. That 50% of those starred Michael Cera is not a coincidence, I think. He's got that blend of hilarity and sweetness that typifies what makes all of those titles feel so new and exciting.

Hey, a book post!

You might have noticed that I never got around to writing a big long rambler of an entry about Deathly Hallows. Quite honestly, between my extended babbling about the Order of the Phoenix movie, the work of avoiding spoilers, post-book fannish tensions running high, Prophecy, and the general sucktasticness of my own personal August, I was a bit burned out on it all, and thus never got very far into a re-read. As much as I enjoyed it and would like to spend some time pulling it apart, I'm content to leave the book on the shelf until the run-up to movie six. It'll be fun to revisit the entire series with the knowledge of how it ends. So, next year, then.

After DH, I wasn't really in the mood to read books for a while, but I've worked my way through a few things over the last few weeks. First, in anticipation of the apparently very good film adaptation, I picked up Marjane Satrapi's much-hyped Persepolis and Persepolis 2. Liked 'em, though I admit I'm still slightly sketchy on Iranian political history. I made the mistake of reading the panels about the Cinema Rex arson deaths right before bed and was visited by her illustration of it in a dream. (The nightmare says it's working!) I'm guessing 2's abrupt ending suggests a 3 is probably in the works, which I'd be happy to hear.

And then after seeing and being totally wowed by Spring Awakening on Broadway last month, I bought the book of the musical in a moment of obsessive need to know everything about the production. (Seriously, I can totally tell that if this were ten years ago, I'd be into this old school Renthead style. Though I am filled with squee when I listen to the cast recording and would love to see it again before certain actors leave, I will leave the serious fangirling to the kiddies.) There's not much by way of background material, which I would guess I'd find more of in the souvenir program I didn't buy, but there were some nice insights to be found in the stage directions.

That moment has since expanded into something of a prolonged crush into which I further immersed myself by reading Jonathan Franzen's new translation of the Frank Wedekind play the show is based on. I admit that I was partly drawn to it by the kerfuffle between Franzen (whose introduction contains as many valid criticisms of the musical as it does points that are laughably arrogant to borderline offensive) and Duncan Sheik (who wrote some damn gorgeous songs, which counts for a whole hell of a lot when it comes to, you know, a musical), but I was genuinely interested in it on academic and writerly levels, too. It's a good read, clever and darkly funny. I'd love to see a production of it.

I've got a stack of non-fiction career and health books to work through next. But after that, I'm going to read something fun, damn it. I just don't know what yet.

Dear Chris Columbus,

Unless you're shooting a grand epic, it's not preferable to include more sweeping crane shots than one can count on both hands. Also, please find an editor who has the balls to tell you that the fadeout is lame and will make a movie musical feel like a bunch of music videos stitched together.

Also, if you're going to draw inspiration from said form, Bon Jovi circa 1987 is so not the way to go. I'm just sayin'.

Continually puzzled by you,
keever



Dear cast,

Thank you for entertaining me in spite of your director. It's nice to know that you can still make me embarrassingly emotional, Mssrs. Rapp and Martin.

I'm not quite a Renthead anymore, but I'll always have love for you and several of your buddies who didn't make it into the movie.

Saying an affectionate goodbye to an old fandom,
keever



So, anyone else seen Rent? Impressions? Get commenty!

God help me, but despite fake!New York and the whole Chris Columbus thing, it still gives me a little buzz: new full-length Rent trailer. That's the direct download link; you can also get it here.

Most of you who really care probably already saw the leaked Rent trailer that circulated last week, but if not, you might want to download the finished, much better quality version that went up yesterday. (If that link doesn't work for you, try getting it from here.)

My exact reaction? "Well, it doesn't look like complete ass." Which is a compliment, in case you were wondering, because I was expecting ass, and I'm not talking about Idina Menzel's. I know I said I wasn't necessarily thrilled when it was announced that most of the original cast was going to be in the movie, but damn if I didn't get a charge out of seeing Anthony Rapp in that striped scarf again. And hey, April! Granted, there's no way to judge the dialogue, and it looks like they've made the mistake of filming some of the exteriors in not!New York, but yeah, I'm cautiously optimistic. I'm not a Rent fangirl anymore, but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't going to go and see the movie shortly after it's released, and I will totally cry.

( Yes, I can a movie trailer into navel-gazing. I'm talented like that. )

Between this and the release in my current big time fandom, November's going to be quite the moviegoing month for me. I promise not to squee too hard.

There's a wonderful article about Hayao Miyazaki in this week's New Yorker. Unfortunately, it's not online, but there is a Q&A with the writer, which hits on some of the major points of the piece. It confirms that as I'd hoped, Howl's Moving Castle will be released in the U.S. this year, along with good English language home video versions of Porco Rosso and Nausicaä. Now if we could only get Disney to release a decent DVD of My Neighbor Totoro, we'd be all set.

This makes me want to hop a plane to London and spend an insane amount of money on theater tickets. Well, moreso than I usually do, anyway. As soon as I saw the photo, I knew the article was about the National Theater. It's amazing how vividly I can still picture various places in that city, even though it's been almost seven years since I was there. I can still remember where I was sitting when I saw Fiona Shaw in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie at the National. But anyway, I digress. They're getting a new Mike Leigh play! And I hear that the staged version of His Dark Materials is amazing. And of course, elsewhere this spring, Ewan McGregor will be playing Sky Masterson. Is it entirely futile to hope that this particular revival of Guys and Dolls transfers to Broadway, with McGregor still attached?

And finally, this article addresses how digital video has changed the question of "How do I get my movie made?" to "How do I get my movie seen?". Interesting factoid: now only 0.3% of films submitted to Sundance are ever actually distributed for theatrical release in the United States.

If you hadn't already noticed it, this entry will convince you that I'm a bit of a movie geek. (And, clearly, someone who has no problem foisting her pop culture opinions upon you, the reader!)

Ahem.

So, what follows is an annotated list of the movies that I'm excited about seeing in 2005. Special thanks to trailer_spot for sussing out many of the trailer links.

( Popcorn's on me! )

I just deleted three half-written entries from my home directory. When you've seemingly become incapable of finishing a series of thoughts, start a new slightly incoherent series of thoughts, I always say. So, onward to the slightly recycled thoughts on recent pop culture developments!

So, it looks like Chris Columbus is on his way to signing several of the members of the original Broadway cast of Rent for the film version he's making. Anthony Rapp confirmed the rumors on one message board, and has gone on to update fans about further casting developments on another. As of now, it seems that he, Idina Menzel, Adam Pascal, and Jesse L. Martin are definites, and Taye Diggs is trying to work around his Kevin Hill schedule (which probably just got more complicated since the show was just picked up for a full season) so he can join them. Wilson Jermaine Heredia has also apparently been offered Angel, too. ( I babble more about this here. I know you don't care. But old fandoms die hard, I suppose, so -- babbling. )

And speaking of movies coming out in 2005 (which is going to be a fabulous year at the cineplex by the way, but that's another post entirely), behold the thing of beauty that is the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory poster! Awesome.

I'll spare you my stumbled-upon linkage, but here's a request for fellow Lost fans: please stop slashing Charlie and Liam. Not all male characters who have one-on-one bonding scenes want to fuck each other. And I say this to you as someone who actually likes slash quite a bit. But you did notice the whole "brothers" thing, right? Well, they meant that literally. Please spare me.

And it looks like ABC is going to be smart and schedule Alias at 9PM on Wednesdays, directly following Lost. (Be warned that there are spoilers for both shows at that link.) Two consecutive hours of J.J. Abrams every week starting in January? Yes, please! Well, that's providing that Alias doesn't make me want to tear my hair out this season, much like it did before.

And finally, am I the only one who didn't realize that Carolyn Keene wasn't a real person? I'm weirdly disappointed by that. The fact that a syndicate wrote all of those Nancy Drew books that I read as a kid really does explain a lot about them. I was glad to read that they've updated the franchise, but why the unnecessary addition of "Girl Detective" to the new titles? That's bizarrely backwards-sounding, no?