A great David Letterman segment last night with Joaquin Phoenix, who’s still trying to convince us he’s given up acting for rapping. Phoenix might just be our next great comic genius.
William Shatner gives his stirring rendition of Harry Chapin’s “Taxi” on the “Dinah!” show.
Joaquin Phoenix exited his career as an actor last year, hoping to join the ranks of successful white rappers like Eminem and, umm, Eminem. He made his debut appearance as a “rapper” Friday at a Las Vegas club, and, based on this evidence, I’m not exactly sure there’s going to be a market for what he’s selling. Or maybe he’s on some kind of surreal, brilliant Andy Kaufman-like comic trip….
Oh, and he fell off the stage, too.
I’m so confused.
Yesterday brought the sad news that hathos-facilitator Ricardo Montalban has died at age 88. As Mister Roarke on “Fantasy Island,” he kept B-list actors in the public eye for years beyond when they would have otherwise faded away. And, he invented the term “corinthian leather” to describe one of the the joys of the Chrysler Cordoba in the ’70s.
Rest in peace, Mr. Montalban.
I sometimes wonder what sort of state an actor would have to be in to appear in one of those ads for the herpes drug Valtrex. Clearly they’re in some sort of distress–financial or otherwise. You’d have to be optimistic to see those spots as a good career move.
But the parents of the kid who starred in this short film about masturbation should’ve been visited by the authorities. I’d love to know what became of him. (And following the uncomfortable masturbation talk, stay tuned for the penis-size action that follows.)
Even though Joe Pesci’s 1998 album “Vincent LaGuardia Gambini Sings Just for You” was a tongue-in-cheek effort, who’s the genius who decided that this would be a sound way to capitalize on his role in “My Cousin Vinny”? Did anyone buy this? [Warning: not safe for work, due to Pesci’s potty mouth.]
The rap (really):
That wasn’t Pesci’s only attempt at music. Dig this Beatles cover:
Posted in Actors, Music
Tagged Joe Pesci
It ain’t easy being an underappreciated genius. Witness Orson Welles, who was only 25 years old when he directed and starred in Citizen Kane, considered by many to be the greatest American film ever made. Orson was also a legendarily tough man to work with, and became more embittered as he aged.
By the late ’70s, the once-trim Welles’ weight had ballooned to near the 400-pound mark, and he became known to a new generation of people as the spokesman for the low-end winemaker Paul Masson. It was during this period when he attempted to film this spot for the winery, but evidently was too inebriated to do so.