09.24.08
Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala
Can you believe there’s only a handful of NIGHT SHIFT episodes left? Whatever shall I do with myself? I’m especially despondent now that this season has really hit its stride.
For instance, Patricia, Leo, and Kyle’s confrontation scene in the breakroom last night actually made me cry. Kathleen Noone proved why she’s a veteran powerhouse, establishing character history and motivation in such a way that I felt like she’d been on the show this whole time. Ethan Rains finally came into his own, showing us the vulnerability in Leo that would’ve helped us key into him had it been written into the premiere. Maybe it’s because I’m an ethnic minority myself and also because my brother was a perfect student while I was the slacker, but he totally got to me. I just wanted to hug him and apologize forever thinking of him as “NapoLeon.” And Adam Grimes showed why he’s the breakout star of the season. If he doesn’t land on GH: Day Shift, it’ll be a shame and a waste, because Kyle is everything you’d want in a gay character: He’s a fleshed out, fully realized person being played by a talented actor. He’s no token, he’s no desexualized saint. And his immediate chemistry with Chad Allen’s Eric had me grinning. I know it’s too early to call it, but I think they might be my favorite gay couple on TV, closely followed by GREEK’s Calvin and Michael, who are just as witty and adorable as that show’s straight couples. (And interracial to boot!) And, okay, yes, the fact that I totally crushed on Chad Allen during his MY TWO DADS/OUR HOUSE era helps. (By the time he hit DR. QUINN MEDICINE WOMAN, I was all about Joe Lando’s Sully. We can thank Lando’s turn as OLTL’s Jake Harrison for that. Jake and Megan…sigh!)
The rest of the episode was enjoyable as well. I loved Robin being all freaked out by last week’s Awkward Pre-Kiss Moment with Jagger. I loved Patrick’s expression of utter disbelief when kinder, gentler Epiphany tried to counsel him in the supply closet. I loved Jagger, Robert, and Stone all bonding. I love how this is a show that strengthens key family ties, whereas the parent show is one that relishes tearing them apart. And that’s really just a sad commentary on GH. Why should we HAVE to tune in to a primetime show to get family interaction? To get diversity, richness of character, and nods to history? Why is a reunion with Anna, Sean, Tiffany, Luke, and Robert happening at 11 p.m. instead of 3? Gee, I guess it takes away from prime Zacchara and Sonny/Kate time, huh? We might miss mob drama! Gasp.
Though, okay, I will concede that GH rallied a little by bringing back HalluciLaura and having Lulu, Lucky, and Nikolas share scenes, and also by having Matt Hunter turn out to be Patrick’s brother. Still, that’s not enough and, for me, it’s just a little too late.
But at least GH isn’t as derivative as the new 90210. WHY am I still watching this? It’s. So. Bad. Every single storyline is predictable and Shenae Grimes‘ Annie is even more unlikable than Brenda was back in the day. (Have I mentioned I’m a Kelly girl? Because I SO am.) I dislike Annie SO much that I was actually cheering when Adrianna got one over on her. She’s a petulant, wishy-washy brat. I would rather watch scenes with her awesome parents, Harry and Aunt Becky (I don’t even remember Lori Loughlin’s actual character name! LOL!), than watch her. On the plus side, I continue to think Dixon is adorable and I love his budding romance with Silver. It’s the only bright spot in the otherwise snoozeworthy teen set. You know you have a problem on your hands when Kelly, Brenda, Harry, Aunt Becky, and Ryan are all the real draw to this show. I also have to put in an honorable mention for James Patrick Stuart (ex-Will, AMC) and Christina Moore, who, as Naomi’s divorcing parents, probably had the sexiest moment of the entire episode. Way to show ‘em how it’s done!
Also? I was already having Spring Awakening issues because I get a lot of “bestest musical EVER!” rhetoric from friends. Thanks, 90210, for officially hammering the last nail in the coffin and making me never want to see it.
originally posted on soapoperaweekly.com
09.20.08
Holy De Mole.
So, I’ve officially been a Sunnysider for nearly seven days now, commuted to and from work successfully for three out of those seven, and am generally settling into the neighborhood. Naturally, for me, that means checking out the food. Unfortunately, Menupages.Com only covers Manhattan and Brooklyn, so I’ve had to resort to Yelp.Com to familiarize myself with the local cuisine. It’s one thing to walk past a storefront and take note of the name, it’s another thing entirely to know if the kitchen is worthwhile. The Yelp reviews, while limited, do help a bit. Several new places have sprung up since I last lived in the area, and, of course, there are several old places that I’m not familiar with because I was such a basketcase when I moved here initially that I didn’t venture beyond a three block radius.
This time around, I’m determined to be more adventurous.
I have actually made the effort and gotten takeout twice this week (I know, I know, not cost effective. Sue me.). First, from Dee Thai at 46-17 Queens Blvd., because I was craving Thai food liek woah. I have a basic Thai restaurant test: The pad thai test. If you screw up something as basic as pad thai noodles, odds are your restaurant isn’t worth a damn. And I think I’ve mentioned before that I have bizarre standards, thanks to being spoiled rotten by Phan Shin, the local go-to in my hometown. So, the last time I had pad thai, from Red Curry in the city, it scarred me for life. It was pathetic. Luckily, the same cannot be said for Dee Thai’s version. It was delicious. The portion lasted me two nights. The chicken was perfectly cooked and in small pieces in so as to mix with the noodles and the sprouts, not sit there like chunks on top. I also got fried tofu, which you’d have to pretty dumb to screw up. It came with a delicious peanut chili sauce that might have to go on my Condiment Lick list. Further testing must occur. 
Then, tonight, I broke down and made the trek down to De Mole, on the corner of 48th Avenue and 45th St. It has tons of reviews on Yelp and is apparently considered THE best Mexican restaurant in the area. Now, with a reputation like that, how could I not try it out? I actually have to give myself credit because I’ve been looking at restaurant write ups for the last four days and it took me that entire stretch of time to break down and hightail it to De Mole. I tried to resist, I really did. I paced. I angsted. I told myself I could eat a variety of Lean Cuisines I had in my freezer. But, alas, the lure was too great. So a brisk five minute walk took me to the tiny but really cute and neat restaurant. It’s not a hole in the wall at ALL. I kept my order basic (at some point I clearly have to try their mole sauce, see if it’s lickable, etc.), and just got tacos pastor, which were pork and pineapple tacos, and guac and chips. Is the guac as good as El Rio Grande’s? No. In fact, it could benefit from some more salt and chilis, but it was still good. And the homemade chips had the salt that the guacamole didn’t. (Cautionary note: If you have paper cuts or you clipped your nails too closely, the chips will sting.) The tacos, meanwhile, were great. The marinated chunks of pork had a distinctly pineapple-y flavor, there were bits of actual pineapple, too, along with chopped onion and cilantro, and there were two soft tortillas on each taco instead of just one, which definitely helped the structural integrity. Verdict? Muy bueno! Definitely worth the hype. It’s good, it’s cheap, and it’s filling. I’ll be going back to try other dishes, like their enchilada con mole poblano, their coconut flan, etc.
But not that soon. Freezer. Lean Cuisine. Etc. I must try to be strong and space my fits of gluttony out.
09.19.08
Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala
This is quite possibly the shallowest blog post I’m ever going to write, but I can’t help it. While watching AS THE WORLD TURNS this week, it struck me just how pretty the cast is. When they’re out on location, with all that natural light shining down on them, you get an even more clear indication of why the Maura Wests, Julie Pinsons, Jon Hensleys, and Jon Prescotts of the world are on TV and why mere mortals like myself are tied to a computer. I mean, these are people who look good even before they hit the makeup chair, just wandering the studio halls in their street clothes, so it should be no surprise that they look good in the sunlight. But even ATWT’s interior lighting is incredibly flattering and plays to their actors’ best features. Back when Marie Wilson’s hair was redder, I had severe envy every time Meg was on, because the color looked so rich. (Mind you, I’d look awful as a redhead!) And it’s not just hair. No one ever looks pasty or washed out. Everyone always seems to have a healthy glow. (Not counting Ghost Sofie.)
When you think about it, it takes some serious effort to make a soap star look less than their best.
So why are there some shows that are doing exactly that? Is there a major difference in their lighting equipment? Do the makeup people just not know how to blend the right foundation to go with the lights? Why does everyone on ATWT look so vibrant while some people on other programs look like they haven’t been let out of the basement in years? (And trying to compensate for bad lighting with tanning really doesn’t work; many people just look like Oompa Loompas.) I’ve seen actors from a few other shows who look exponentially better in real life than they do onscreen — where they’re supposed to look more fabulous than the average person. That’s just sad. (And, no, I’m not naming names or calling out the shows. I don’t want to make enemies! LOL!)
So it just begs the question: Why can’t more people see the light? And point it in the right direction?
originally posted on soapoperaweekly.com
09.18.08
The way she move…
Moving in New York City is an exercise in self-sufficiency.
Moving in New York City with a bum ankle and a bad knee is an exercise in insanity.
It’s times like these where I miss the small town life, and the ease with which you can call up a buddy with a pickup truck to help you out when you need it. The Big Apple is short on buddies and on pickup trucks. It’s just really bizarre, a completely different mindset and definition of friendship. I guess it’s something I still haven’t gotten totally used to. There’s too much southwestern Ohio left in me still, trapped beneath the hard armadillo shell of the New Yorker that I’m becoming.
I have another adjustment to make now as well, which is that of Manhattanite to Queens resident. I loved my neighborhood in Murray Hill. I loved the proximity to D’Agostino’s, the frou-frou grocery store, and to Grand Central. I loved being able to walk to work and to cab it home from a night out with the girls. Sunnyside is about 20 minutes away from the city, the grocery stores are a bit sketchy, and the cab ride is a bit more expensive. But my apartment is considerably larger and cheaper. There are some wonderful places to eat nearby and Jackson Heights and the Queens Center mall are just a few stops away on the train. I lived just a few streets up from my current place when I first moved to New York… and, Lord, was it a trial. I hated my apartment (even though it was huge, how stupid was I?), found my landlord creepy, and loathed the short commute. I was a true fish out of water at that time, really unable to reconcile my old life in Ohio to my new one in New York. I felt the isolation a lot harder. This time around, I’m armed with the knowledge of both this borough and Manhattan; I know what it takes to live in both places and that this location is much, much more practical.
What use is the glamour and ease of Murray Hill if I can’t afford to go out? If I’m counting dollars and cents and feeling guilty for every charge on my credit card? Manhattan loses its charm if you can’t experience it.I figure I’ll get roughly the same amount of time in the city that I did while I lived there, just for a cheaper price tag. And hopefully once I’m settled in and fully unpacked and furnished, I’m going to get a chance to build that community tie that I’ve been lacking.
Who knows…maybe I’ll even find someone with a pickup truck. .
09.11.08
Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala
So, I’ve been kind of bad lately. I missed GH: NIGHT SHIFT again. I know, I know…here I am, a giant advocate and I’m playing hooky. Shame on me. However, what I haven’t missed is THE BOLD AND THE BEAUTIFUL. Every single episode this week has been must-see. I absolutely adored watching Bridget find out about Katie and Nick’s affair. From the whole skeevy set-up of Nick making love to her and then dropping the bomb (OMG! What a creep!) to Bridget flipping out and snarling that he should’ve kept his pants on, it was sheer soapy brilliance. As much as I hate Bridget having to go through the umpteenth instance of “you slept with my husband, prepare to die!” it’s always entertaining to watch the fall-out. And did anyone else get a huge kick out of delusional Katie hoping to Brooke that Bridget would take the news well and then telling Bridget the same thing? The look on Bridget’s face when Katie expressed her wish that Bridget and Nick raise her Catalina love child if she dies was the best thing EVER. I haven’t laughed so hard in ages…at least not until today’s episode, where Stephanie and the Forrester kids gathered around Eric expecting that he was about to croak.
When Stephanie asked Thorne to bring her the basin from her old bathroom and then began washing Eric’s feet, I actually had to walk down to a colleague’s office and go, “Hey, are you watching B&B? What’s up with the Jesus-y foot washing?” I’m sure it was supposed to be poignant and moving and whatnot, but this is Stephanie “Badass Mofo” Forrester we’re talking about, not Mary Magdalene! And besides, if you want to go with the apt biblical metaphor for fallen women washing the benevolent savior’s feet, shouldn’t that be Donna? Then again, I suspect that if she wants to atone for getting frisky with Owen, she’d have to wash a lot more than just Eric’s neglected tootsies.
originally posted on soapoperaweekly.com
09.08.08
All this means is that James K. Polk was a hottie.
It’s funny; I spent the entire summer being virulently, vehemently, anti-political. I was sick of the backbiting, the sniping, the divisiveness. I was like, “Whatever. I am so done.” I just tuned out. I was sick of Hillary, sick of Barack, and occasionally rhyming really rude things with “Huckabee.” Now? With barely 2 months to go before the Presidential election…? I AM SO ADDICTED TO POLTICAL COVERAGE OMG.
I can’t stop watching The Daily Show clips, reading political posts on people’s blogs and on various message boards…I even tuned in to The O’Reilly Factor. I mean, Vishnu in a sidecar, people, I voluntarily watched Bill frakking O’Reilly just because he tried to steamroll interviewed Barack Obama. Of course, then I flipped over to the rerun of the 90210 season premiere just to scrub my brain.
But I’m engaged. I’ve been discussing politics on the phone with my parents; I spent a half hour the other day in my co-worker’s office ranting and raving about how the Religious Right needs to get their hands off my uterus and how political correctness has paralyzed our society and turned our children into coddled cowards. It was bad, folks. We actually had to change the topic to “Which President would you sleep with?” just so I’d quit frothing. (And, yes, we actually called up pictures of all the Presidents to date and went through the entire list going ‘I’d do him’ or ‘Not so much!’ I also admitted to finding John Kerry really sexy.)
Let’s face it, it’s crunch time. This is our shot to change the insidious, destructive political climate that has raged across this country for the last 8 years. But the sad thing is…? I have absolutely no expectation that it WILL change. I fully expect John McCain and Sarah Palin to end up in the White House, no matter what skeletons are shaken out of Palin’s closet. At the end of the day, it’s not going to matter if she’s attached to a frighteningly Fundamentalist church or if her husband was part of a secessionist group or if she accepted millions of dollars in earmarks, she’s going to get voted in because she’s a mother of five who likes guns and thinks the only pregnant woman in the country who deserves the privacy and respect to make her own choice is her own daughter. And it’s not going to matter that John McCain has completely flipped around on his politics but then co-opted the Democratic theme of “Change,” just to distance himself from a President he supported, he’s going to get voted in because he’s a war hero representing “real Americans,” because he’s claiming change while actually promising more of the same and nobody wants to read between the lines.
Of course, why read at all when the government can read for you, think for you, etc.? I have already written about how we have become a lazy nation, unwilling to take responsibility for ourselves. It’s easier to point the finger everywhere else. It’s easier to let legislators govern our bodies and our minds and our souls. It’s easier to blame a television or a rap song for why our children can’t think for themselves. Why worry our pretty little heads when we’ve got John McCain, his benevolent hockey mom VP, and their entire party to do it all for us?
After all, letting George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, and Karl Rove do our thinking for us has worked out so well…
09.03.08
Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala
Not only did I watch 90210 last night like half the planet, but I am all caught up on NIGHT SHIFT after slacking last week. And, yes, I realize my guesses from Aug. 27 about what happened weren’t exactly on the mark. The kids with Cystic Fibrosis who wanted to get married are officially my favorite patients of the season so far. I almost cried at their goodbye scene on either side of the door. Capping off their plight was the incredibly resonant conversation Robin and Patrick had, where he admitted he felt like an outsider because he wasn’t HIV+, too, and she told him she needed him to be healthy so he could raise their child if anything happened to her. Two and half hankies! I was sniffling all over the place.
This week’s episode had its own emotional ups and downs, but the highlight was definitely seeing Mac, Robert, and Robin together like a family. I mean, not only did Mac’s Australian accent return (Haven’t heard it in years! LOL!), but watching him and Robert rib each other and swap stories was so much more fulfilling than the punch in the face during the 2006 virus story on GH. And Robin sitting cuddled with Robert before his surgery brought to mind little Robin in the old days so acutely that I even felt like a kid again. Speaking of kids, it was a nonexistent baby bump week! Robin’s fictional fetus fluctuates weight more than me on the Atkins diet!
Claire’s adorable and annoying patient, Ryan, cracked me up and my eyebrows rose at some of the dialogue they got away with. And Leo and Saira…? I was officially SO over them and waving the Jagger/Saira banner — until Leo broke down and asked Saira for help and then admitted how he feels about her. Just when you get out, they suck you back in!
Now, on to Rob Thomas’ (of VERONICA MARS fame) version of 90210. Permit me to use a highly technical TV review term… “meh.” The only reason I tuned in was to hear what my favorite Beverly Hills residents are up to now. Jennie Garth looks fabulous (I’ve always been a Kelly girl; sorry Brenda people!) and though Rob Estes was a MELROSE PLACE guy and not reprising that role, he looks great. I can’t believe that he and Lori ”Aunt Becky” Loughlin are now playing parents of teens. Tangentially, I got the double whammy of seeing my AMERICAN HEIRESS favorite AnnaLynne McCord (ex-Loren) winning the Andrea Zuckerman Award for Oldest Fake Teen at West Beverly and seeing James Patrick Stuart PLAY HER DAD. AMC’s Will Cortlandt. Her. Dad. Oh my God.
