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Val Kilmer’s Batman steals one young fan’s heart forever

p. Maybe it would have been different if you hadn’t been the first. They say you never forget your first love, and darned if they’re not right. As cheesy as it sounds, Mr. Kilmer, you hit me in my formative years and I’ve been unable to clamber to my feet since. Can I call you Val? Because, in the words of Drew Barrymore in “Batman Forever,” “You can call me whatever you want.” For you I’d have happily been a child bride. The offer still stands.

p. I think I learned your name before that of any other actor, chiefly because I loved Batman. No other figure has played such a tremendous role in the iconography of my imagination. I ate, slept and breathed Batman. What vivified said hero? Why, your brilliant “Batman Forever,” of course — possibly the first PG-13 movie my parents allowed me to see. No other man can touch your Bruce Wayne, dear; you’re the best. Actually, a poster of you in your purplish cape and cowl hangs over the head of my bed along with a print of you as Doc Holiday in “Tombstone.” So not only were you the face I put on the knight of my dreams, you were the first pop icon that meant anything to me. You catalyzed my coming-of-age. This may seem weird, my dear friend, but you belong on the same short list as the smell of a box of new crayons, the feel of the rough carpet beneath my palms during story time, the satisfaction of breaking the binding on a new “Goosebumps” book, Spice Girls-induced dancing and the cold chill that ran down my back as I watched “Are You Afraid of the Dark.” You’re as familiar to me as Beanie Babies and the smell of Mom’s perfume when she and Dad left for a date. You took up residence in Blockbuster Video — a place that, to this day, reeks of magic and worlds within worlds. Whether an incredibly hot man-muse or the invisible friend I never had, you were there, gently nudging me into teendom. Few things evoke more nostalgia than the slow, sensual voice that comes out of perhaps the most endearingly pouty lips in Hollywood. I’m eager to see you in “Déjà Vu,” because that’s what you give me.

p. As if it weren’t enough to ensnare me when I was young and impressionable, you had to go and be an amazing actor too, ever demanding of the fealty I pledged you so long ago. The unabashedly aloof quirkiness you bring to each role makes you fascinating to watch; there’s an otherworldly humor about you, Val, and I know your life is ruled by it. Directors find you difficult to work with because you care too much about the craft to be cowed. My hero. You’re always a ‘saint’ to me.

p. Watching a Val Kilmer movie takes on a sort of ritualistic air. It’s homage more than entertainment. When I think of the ’80s, I don’t adulterously think of “The Breakfast Club” or “Flashdance” — I think of Chris Knight, the sexy and hilarious teenage brainiac from “Real Genius.” Val, that simmeringly smooth character is the reason that I wear my sunglasses on the back of my shirt. I can’t escape your influence.

p. Now, when I tell you that I like you as a friend, I’m not saying that I don’t like-like you as well. An audio recording of you reading a story can lull me into Elysian slumber and your melancholy eyes set my heart racing. If your whispery portrayal of both Moses and the Burning Bush in “The Prince of Egypt” soothed and inspired me, your booming shouts in “Spartan” and roguish swagger in “Willow” (love that long, dark hair) turned me on in a major way. Mostly, though, I love your calm, quizzical delivery. You single-handedly redeemed “The Island of Dr. Moreau” with your eccentric — and shirtless — portrayal of Montgomery. Your cocky confidence completely crushed poor Tom in “Top Gun.” The Iceman cometh — oh yes, he does. I’d be remiss if I didn’t tip my proverbial hat to your irresistibly charming Doc Holiday. There never was a sweeter scoundrel — and if I had been in that saloon when you were twirling those teacups, I would have surrendered my pistols to you. Also, the real Jim Morrison pales in comparison. You win for utter coolness and smoldering sexiness. Plus, I’m a softy for good bone structure, and God doesn’t sculpt them better than you. Actually, I find myself attracted to men with noses like yours. What can I say? It’s a darn good nose.

p. In conclusion, Val, I want to thank you for being such a great metaphysical companion, ad hoc soul mate and first true crush. Thanks for walking me out of childhood and for fostering my playful approach to life. Seeing you shoot grappling hooks onto the ledges of Gotham City skyscrapers still makes me yearn to do the same. On a practical note, though, I’d be willing to call your New Mexican ranch my home if you decide to remarry.

p. But I’m not obsessed.

p. __Beth Sutherland is a Sophomore at the College. She plans to send her column to Val. Wish her luck.__

Tenacious D falls from grace

Tenacious D first appeared in 1997 as a low-rate HBO series devoted to two wannabes running the open-mic-night circuit who were claiming to be the greatest band in the world. Now, nearly a decade later, Jack Black and Kyle Gass (also known as Jables and Kage or JB and KG) have made their fantastical claims arguably true. With the release of the Tenacious D movie, “Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny,” the band is setting the stage for complete world domination. The problem is, in some circles, The D have reigned for ages, and the band’s latest ventures won’t live up to its fans’ extreme expectations. The movie may turn out fine, but the sub-par soundtrack makes a strong case that The D peaked years ago.

p. First of all, the HBO series flopped. Totalling six episodes, the show debuted in 1997, but the last four episodes were held over until 1999. When the rest of the show finally aired, a small fanbase was created, but the show still flopped. However, the 2001 release of the band’s self-titled album “Tenacious D” was met with glowing reviews from fans and critics alike, and the band rode the album to rock superstardom. How did two fat, cocky, potty-mouthed losers become rock gods? Frankly, their music rocked.

p. With their unique blend of classically trained acoustic folk-rock, good old-fashioned hair metal and two of the funniest minds in the business, Tenacious D put out an album that critics could credit as having great, catchy, well-written music, as well as being absolutely hilarious. The album sports 21 hysterical tracks, including singles “Wonderboy,” wherein JB and KG claim to be faux superheroes Wonderboy and Young Nasty Man; “Tribute,” a tribute to the “greatest and best song in the world,” which the duo once played to outwit a demon but later forgot; and “Fuck Her Gently,” a sweet song coyly admitting “you don’t always have to fuck her hard.” Every track is wonderful, especially the funny little skits like “Friendship Test” and “Drive-Thru.”

p. One may never compare the band’s first album to the greatest rock albums of all time, but, for what it is, it is quite possibly perfect. My only complaint? There’s just not enough. After the album made a name for Kage and Jables, the two went on to bigger and better things. Black starred in Hollywood hits like “School of Rock,” while Gass has made a career of bit parts like his small role in “Elf.” Still, the best work they have done is that rock masterpiece that has proven a mainstay in many a CD player. So why has it taken them five years to release a follow-up? The greatest band in the world needs to be the best working band in the world, too. And that, my friends, is the problem with the new album and the movie.

p. I want to love this movie, and I’m sure I will, because Jack and Kyle are great actors and comedians. I want to love the soundtrack, too, hoping it is the second great symphony from the best band alive. But, to be blunt, the music just isn’t good anymore. “Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny” doesn’t live up to the band’s early work. Sure, when Jables asks Kage on “The Divide,” “What’s it gonna be Kyle? You have to decide. Chicks or destiny?” and Kyle resolutely responds, “Chicks” you have to chuckle. Classic D. “Kickapoo” proves a formidable rock opera opener, breaking between electric rock and acoustic lament, featuring familiar themes: “Dio can you hear me? / I am lost and so alone / I’m asking for your guidance / Would you come down from your throne?” But beyond a few bright stars, the tracks seem to fail on the launch pad. The album’s first single, “The Pick of Destiny,” is muddy and pointless. The production is too shiny, the music too average and the jokes too flat. The song the kids play with JB in “School of Rock” rocks harder than most of the songs on the album. The drums seem the same on every song, and the guitar effects are cover-band-quality. With a couple of exceptions, the album is bland — very out of character for The D.

p. “Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny” doesn’t have the same flavor as the band’s only true album. The D has all but abandoned their acoustic noodlings for overproduced, layered metal guitars stealing the spotlight from Jack’s wonderfully pure voice. It speaks to the quality of the album when the best song on it is merely a new recording of an old song. “History,” a completely ridiculous history of Tenacious D’s “rise to power,” dates back to the HBO series, with a few slight lyrical changes. The problem with this album is at it’s core: Tenacious D was funny when it consisted of two endearing nobodies. The joke has lost its luster. Now that they are the greatest band in the world, they can’t live up to the expectations they worked so hard to ingrain in their public. I was offered a chance to see The D live this December in D.C. The entry fee: $40. I turned it down. They’ve come a long way from their open mic night beginnings. Too bad. Let’s just hope the movie is entertaining.

ABC drama ‘Lost’ in own convoluted plot

p. When ABC debuted a show in 2004 about survivors of a plane crash stranded on an island, many were understandably skeptical about the possibility of extending the concept into a series-length program. The cynics are biting their tongues now as everyone’s favorite castaways continue along their third season, still as stranded and confused as ever. It’s in this confusion that “Lost” has gained its strength and its viewership. The mysterious island raises more questions than it answers, and the loyal devotees who tune in week after week are on the edge of their seats waiting for the next unexpected plot turn.

p. The question now is how much longer people are willing to go without answers; what once seemed like carefully-calculated suspense now looks more like dropped storylines and an overambitious plot. With six episodes under its belt this season, some favorite characters from the hefty-sized cast have had mere minutes of screen time. We have yet to learn what happened to the desperate father-turned-traitor Michael (Harold Perrineau) and his son, Walt (Malcom David Kelley). The uber-attractive Korean couple, Sun (Yunjin Kim) and Jin (Daniel Dae Kim), starred in an action-packed episode that left them jumping out of a hijacked boat, only to return to the rest of the survivors without comment in the next episode.

p. Most of the camera time has gone to the captured survivors; Jack (Matthew Fox), Sawyer (Josh Holloway) and Kate (Evangeline Lilly). While most “Lost” followers must have enjoyed the steamy and much-anticipated scene where Sawyer and Kate got it on in a cage, many are no doubt clamoring for the entire ensemble to reunite and tackle the bad guys together. And, in a manner typical of creator J.J. Abrams, it is no longer clear who those bad guys are. The enigmatic “Others” have now emerged as co-stars of sorts for the original islanders.

p. While the show seems to be encouraging the audience to get attached to the new antagonists, whose serene voices and hippie-like communal living style make them seem like well-intentioned cultists, it’s hard to forget the fate of last season’s added cast members. The “tail-enders” who showed up from the other side of the island have nearly all met an untimely demise. Ben (Michael Emerson), the head hippie in charge and Other-formerly-known-as-Henry Gale, has already been revealed to have a deadly spinal tumor from which only his captured prisoner, spinal surgeon Jack, can save him.

p. In another almost too-convenient twist, Ben divulged to an escape-prone Sawyer that there are actually two islands, one on which the Others are holding the three survivors prisoner, and another on which the castaways are stuck without a clue. Back on the main island, the man of faith, ironically-named John Locke (Terry O’Quinn), seems ready to step into Jack’s role as leader, joined by formerly peripheral islanders who seem poised to be the latest additions to the cast. While viewers may be disappointed by the virtual disappearance of some favorite characters, they can at least find comfort in the return of some dormant plot lines, including the creepy black smoke that recently took the life of the Nigerian drug lord-turned-priest, Mr. Eko (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje), as well as the occasional sightings of the likely daughter of season one’s psycho-deadly French woman, Danielle Rousseau (Mira Furlan).

p. The show’s direction is unclear, but fans are unlikely to tag along forever without some answers. Despite the potential of last season’s ending, hinting that the entire island might be explained by some magnetic anomalies, viewers were dumped right back into frustration when the show picked back up this fall. Last week’s episode ended with similar edge-of-your-seat anticipation as a widower Other held a gun at Sawyer’s head while a distraught Kate watched and a clever Jack maneuvered to gain the upper hand back in the operating room.

p. Fans of the hit television show will have more than enough time to let the suspense-filled cliffhanger of last episode settle in; the show will not air a new episode again until February. ABC will attempt to keep its viewers happy for 13 weeks with the new show “Day Break,” starring Taye Diggs, in which the main character wakes up every morning to the same day, a la Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day.”

p. The writers of “Lost” are toeing a fine line between creating enjoyable tension and cheating viewers. The cleverly drawn-out plot may be reaching its breaking point. The show might have been better off as a 13 week filler in the first place.

‘Anatomy’ of a hit: superb writing

p. I must confess: the sole reason I began my magical journey into the world of “Grey’s Anatomy” was the fact that the promo was set to a Postal Service song. Who wanted another hospital drama, anyway? Patrick Dempsey didn’t even figure into the equation (Hello? Reese Witherspoon’s “Sweet Home Alabama” reject? Thanks, but no thanks), and besides the chick from “Sideways” (Sandra Oh), where did the rest of these people come from? Didn’t the producers know we’d seen this before? Seriously?
Unfortunately, I’m powerless before the Postal Service. It’s like I can’t say no. Thus, I found myself in front of my television set on that fateful Sunday evening, lo those many years ago, oddly intrigued by the quirky, witty, comedic drama of Seattle Grace Hospital. Now in it’s third season and better than ever, “Grey’s Anatomy” is easily the best all-around show on the small screen. Seriously.

p. Creator, executive producer and writer of the show, Shonda Rhimes, has one of the most brilliant minds of our time. Her concept is simple, making the possible hilarious twists and awkward, hospital-cest plotlines delightfully plentiful. Rhimes writes her characters with such heart and warmth that the audience eventually cozies up to even the most initially unlikable of personages. She shows the human side of each individual on the show, refusing to let them be two-dimensional. While the occasional sordid love triangle may slide its way into the story, the thread is always carried out in a genuinely innovative manner; there is nothing trite or exceedingly annoying about it. From the sharp direction, right down to the sly use of hit song titles as episode names, the show’s presentation is wholly unparalleled.
No character is without fault, and each has his or her own relatively unique idiosyncrasies. The title character, Meredith Grey (Ellen Pompeo), tends toward drowning her sorrows in alcohol and sex. As one of her fellow surgical interns points out, “When your life is sucking, you get drunk and sleep with inappropriate men. It’s your thing. Whatever. I find it charming.” So do we, Meredith. So do we.

p. Presumably, Meredith’s first “inappropriate man” is Derek Shepherd (Dempsey). The pair meets in Joe’s Bar, a local pub, both new to Seattle. One thing leads to another, and they engage in what Meredith believes to be a one night stand. It turns out Derek is actually her “boss’s boss,” and he seems to have other ideas about their relations(hip). Shepherd finally wins her over, only to have his estranged wife, Addison (Kate Walsh), show up at the hospital. Surprise — she’s staying as Seattle Grace’s newest obstetrics specialist.

p. Derek is in constant competition for the position of chief of surgery with a man named Preston Burke. Burke is one of the top surgeons in the nation until an accidental shooting causes him to suffer nerve damage and convulsions in his “million dollar hand.” This season, we sit in the middle of Burke’s personal turmoil, as his future at Seattle Grace grows ever more uncertain.
Burke’s live-in girlfriend, Christina Yang (Oh), is another of the surgical interns at the hospital. Cut-throat and “type A,” Yang is hardly used to feeling empathy. However, with Preston’s injury looming over her, Christina has finally found the will to care for another person. She nurses Preston through his recovery, and has no qualms about helping him in the operating room, even if her means are slightly duplicitous.

p. With an ingenious title that parallels the famed medical student’s guide to the body, “Gray’s Anatomy,” I should have known from the beginning that this show would be incredible. Personalities, plots and a hoard of fantastic supporting characters make the cast of “Grey’s Anatomy” the best ensemble since “Friends,” and these guys get into far more entertaining situations — especially with each other. Stay tuned for further shocking, yet amusing, romantic entanglements and endearing personality blemishes. You won’t believe what’s up next. Seriously. “Grey’s Anatomy” airs Thursdays at 9 p.m. on ABC.

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