Most of the Guys may be a little young to remember 1985-1986, the year when you couldn’t escape “We Are the World.” Well, I had to participate in several performances of it all the way up to 1989. (Some music experts credit elementary schools’ adoration of the song as the progenitor of “Kidz Bop.” Think about that.)
Well, the ghosts of Michael Jackson and Lionel Ritchie are at it again.
Dozens of “singers”–nearly twice the number of the 1985 recording–have been invited to remake the song, with a few modified lyrics, for Haitian earthquake relief.
You’re probably wondering why I think this charitable work is a bad idea (other than that I’m horrible person who hates everything). I’m glad you kind of asked: Continue reading Take it from Snee: We, the world, say enough
As a cinematic flasher of not-so-secret mass culture fantasies, Oliver Stone is Hollywood’s R-rated answer to P. T. Barnum. Instead of clowns, aerialists and lion tamers, he parades his own hyper-macho vision of modern American life as a primitive bread-and-circuses carnival of power, greed, lust, fame and violence (especially violence). And in Any Given Sunday, his viscerally charged, razzle-dazzle ode to professional football as a blood sport, he comes up with some quintessentially zany Oliver Stone moments.
Using the film, Stone dissects the glory and decadence of football, as seen through the stunning victories and stinging defeats of the fictitious Miami Sharks. Stone presents the players of the NFL as modern-day gladiators who do battle before bloodthirsty crowds in multi-million dollar coliseums, where on any given Sunday, you either win or lose. And while the veteran director has assembled some top-notch talent for this ode to the American past time, the film’s potential for being one of the great films of 1999 ends up being sabotaged by Stone’s own directorial indulgences, which almost make it unwatchable. Almost. Continue reading MasterChugs Theater: ‘Any Given Sunday’