Column #26 - Guilty Pleasures and Lonely Teardrops

I have something to confess. Get your mind out of the gutter, like I'd confess anything really juicy, this is an entertainment column not Star Magazine. Then again those poor bastards in Star aren't confessing so much as having pappazzi jump out of the bushes and catch them at the worst hair-slash-no make-up-slash-garbage drop-off moments. Then again does anyone look sharp dropping off garbage? Probably not. Except maybe Halle Berry. No, I'm talking something more egregious than dirty laundry, dirty dishes, or dirty trash. I'm talking about Karaoke.

You all know about my infatuation with the brilliant Army of Darkness, combining an ability to darn near recite the entire movie with my love of midnight screenings. I love this film as only a fan-slash-movie lover can love something, absolutely. I mean, I love orange juice, I love the song-stylings of Leonard Cohen, and I love the brilliant screenwriting of William Goldman. But love of things is a ficklething. I wouldn't die for these loves, wouldn't kill for them, but I surely have strong feelings about them and I think I'd really miss them if they were gone. Things like karaoke.

I personally, have never karaoke-d myself. No, that would require a mixture of gumption, hubris, and personal gluttony that I guess I lack. No, instead I prefer to sit on the sidelines and shoot out little calls at the singers, bad and good, and then write about it in my little column. The secret I'm talking about? My guilty pleasure? It's not so much about karaoke, though this plays a large part, it's mostly about relationshipsOr, who am I kidding, it's totally about karaoke. It's the little movie that could kick some karaoke ass and prove that Gwyneth Paltrow, Maria Bello, and Paul Giamatti can all sing their collective butts off. I'm talking about Duets.

What? You've never heard about it? Run your little keister over to the video store, the chain does not matter and rent yourself a copy. Better yet, run out to one of the electronic shops that stock a goodly collection of DVDs and BUY yourself a copy. No self-respecting videophile can claim completion without it. What's Duets about? I'm glad you asked, insightful reader. It's about karaoke obviously, but it's also about breaking out of your comfort zone, taking a mental break, living outside the box, painting your cab pink, smashing class boundaries, but mostly it's about relationships, be they father-daughter, road-trip soul mates, or lost souls finding in each other a sense of completion. It's a road-trip with a common goal, the $5000 karaoke showdown in Omaha, Nebraska. I think I might've to Omaha one day a lifetime ago, but the Midwestern states all blur together, what with corn and wheat fields decorating the entire landscape.

But I digress. Three mixed couples, Gwyneth and Huey Lewis (doing his best sleaze impression since Robert Altman's Short Cuts), Andre Braugher and Paul Giamatti (whom in the previous column I said sings like an angel; here he proves it many times), and Maria Bello and Scott Speedman. Ironically, Speedman is the only one not to sing in the film, having been pulled in at the last moment to replace Gwyneth's ex-beau Brad Pitt. Good choice. It probably would've been awkward having you ex-boyfriend act in a movie with you, directed by your fatherClose call. Good exit. Get off the bench and get in there, Speedman. Each time I watch this flick there's something about his role that continues to surprise and impress me. His is the one straight performance in an over-the-top comedy and it's worth watching.

The real surprise of the film, other than the fact that Huey Lewis still sings professionally, is Gwyneth Paltrow who belts out a rendition of "Bette Davis Eyes" that's better than the original. Apologies to Kim Carnes, but Gwyneth rocks the house and the subwoofer. Giamatti sings like an angel, you expect no less. Maria Bello proves she has singing chops, too, while Andre Braugher lip-syncs nicely. Huey's a pro at every turn, having been in a little house band called "Huey Lewis and The News". I'm not sure what the news is, if it's good or band, but Huey can sing across genre and song-type. He's so good he's almost showing off.

Duets is one of those small movies that slowly becomes a cult hit over time as more and more people are indoctrinated, er, I mean introduced to it's subtle charms and its terribly entertaining singing. There are professional karaoke singer galore in the film, you can almost see that flop-sweat plays an important in good karaoke. It's almost changed my view of karaoke. Now I'm tempted to get up there and belt out a rendition of "Paradise City" at the top of my screeching voice, Axl Rose style. Hey, it can't be any worse than my Jimmy Durante.
Jess Nakaska is an aspiring screenwriter always on the lookout for the next great script idea. He'll let you know if he finds it. Feel free to contact him at jessnakaska@hotmail.com.