I’m like many film aficionados who appreciate Turner Classic Movies not only for the commercial-free, broad programming, but also for affable host Robert Osborne. This recent profile in The New York Times sums it up perfectly. So does…
Woo, Tangerine Dream! Woo, eggnog! These seemingly unrelated items have one thing in common – passionate haters. But back to the first – Thief was, as one reviewer aptly put, a Mannsterpiece. Basically, it’s Drive but THREE DECADES EARLIER. Have you ever skipped class to go to the movies? Doesn’t matter, because we are soon paneling on grilling and uttering dirty words like “padiddle.” If I wanna meet people, I’ll go to a fuckin’ country club.
A man is accused of child molestation and here we are having fun. The Hunt is excellent moviemaking, though, so don’t let the seriousness scare you away. A tangent is introduced (shooting guns and throwing knives) and we return to the stress of our upcoming 100th episode. Tales from Omaha are probably not good podcast fodder. The world is full of evil but if we hold on to each other, it goes away.
Disclaimer: A series not fully based on actual events. Poorly written. Read even less. Such romance! My girlfriend is already annoyed at the use of an exclamation point, but the point here is that we’re…
Boot talk to kick us off. Some of us aren’t used to these ankle shackles. We welcome Elaine May back to Movie Night with The Heartbreak Kid. But that’s not the only item on the menu – a film about a miniature man inside another man’s body is accidentally discussed. Basically, we set a new precedent by only discussing movies and not our usual assortment of nonsense. There’s no insincerity in those potatoes. There’s no deceit in the cauliflower.
My presentation topic is “newspaper street teams” and I’m sitting in a coffee shop at 10 p.m. in Columbia, Mo. while desperately searching Google for band flyers. I’ve chosen a Creative Commons image of a…
To China we go. Ip Man is technically a true story, but only if you ratchet back some killer martial arts moves. Then it’s time for a recap of a Todd Rundgren show. Spoiler alert: it was great. A UFO sighting! These happen with surprising frequency at Movie Night. Or maybe it’s Santa in November – bringing you the Christmas songs that all but one of you hate. If you have the guts, go beat them! Beat as many as you can!
I didn’t want to go to a Todd Rundgren show alone. Why? Because I knew I’d be struggling to convey to you what exactly happened if I didn’t have a witness.
Todd came out on stage at Limelight Eventplex on Saturday night and said our most hated phrase almost as a threat:
“Will we play in Peoria? Yes, we will.”
He then went on to warn us about calling out requests (they wouldn’t be honored) and bragged that his band had “a slush pile of songs” to choose from.
“How many of you are on a date? Expecting to get laid afterward?”
There’s something Howard Stern-ish about Todd. His hair? His obvious intelligence? His dirty uncle vibe?
But his voice was never in question. He may not hit the falsetto range with as much gusto anymore, but he has perfect pitch. I can’t say the same of many of his peers.
At some point, I glance over at my friend Nate to make sure that I’m not stroking out. TODD IS PLAYING A RECORD FOR US THAT ISN’T EVEN HIS.
He did land a few jams, though. “I Saw the Light” and “Hello It’s Me” were all Richard Cheese‘d out and only recognizable by lyrics alone. He’s apparently been doing this weirdness with his hits since 1997.
“If a Todd concert is on your bucket list, then this is your chance, young dude.” $25 to fulfill my dad’s prophecy, even if Todd never stood up.
Setlist after the jump…
Don’t call me Shirley. It’s difficult to talk about Airplane! and avoid the indelible phrase. We swap a few memories (nightmares) from 30,000 feet and, geez, we’re in a jolly good mood! Until eggnog is mentioned and the haters emerge. Also worth hating? Old-fashioned bell alarm clocks. Alas. Jim never vomits at home.