My two-cents worth and then some. An online journal by LP Brown.

Browsing Category Entertainment

Eyeing The View Through Rose-Colored Glasses

by on ·Entertainment, Women

My closest friends know that my favorite TV show is The View. I’ve watched it for years; even when I was in the workforce, I’d tape it. I’ve even got a View coffee mug. Not since my sister-in-law, Barbara, and I attended Oprah’s show in November 1986, when it was taped in DC, have I been so intent on attending another live show. For years, I’ve had my eyes on The View.

Whoopi Goldberg has served as moderator since the show’s creator, Barbara Walters, retired on May 14, 2014. Depending on the topic, Whoopi offers enthusiastic commentary or sits with her elbow on the table, face resting in her hand, looking bored or making faces to elicit a laugh from the audience.

Over the years, I’ve seen the turnover in cohosts.  Joy Behar, Meredith Vieira, Star Jones, and Debbie Matenopoulos were on the original team. Others who have come and gone are Lisa Ling, Sherri Shepherd, Rosie Perez, Sarah Haines, and Rose O’Donnell. The current team members are Whoopi Goldberg, Ana Navarro, Sunny Hostin, Sara Haines, Alyssa Farah Griffin, and the program’s longest survivor of turnovers, Joy Behar.

Twice in the distant past, I had the opportunity to get tickets to a taping of the show, but bad timing prevented me from attending. Some weeks after I had requested tickets, the second time, one of the show’s staff members phoned me, extending four tickets for the Halloween show; audience members were expected to wear costumes. That would have been fantastic, but it, too, was a missed opportunity.

While contemplating whether to sign up one more time for tickets, I did some research. What I discovered lends truth to the adage,” Everything is not as it seems.” And so it is with The View.

I read dozens of reviews by ticket-holders: those who waited in line to attend a taping and those who were lucky enough to get inside.  Here’s what I know – and what I learned.

The taping takes place at ABC studios in New York on 57 West 66th Street on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Tickets can be requested on the website  https://1iota.com/show/385/the-view. Once on the site, select a desired date on the calendar and click Request Tickets. You may apply for up to four tickets, and when approved, you will be notified via email.

If your side job is scalping and you request tickets with the intent of selling them, forget it. The tickets are free, but they are also non-transferable. The person who registers and requests tickets must be in attendance. ID will be checked. Guests also go through security screening.

Remember that just because you book one of those outrageously priced hotel rooms near the studio (the least expensive one I found was $400 per night) and then travel to the Big Apple by plane, train, or automobile to attend The View doesn’t mean you’ll be admitted. Tickets are issued in excess of capacity, and being a ticket holder does not guarantee admittance, nor is preference given to out-of-towners. That’s why it is essential to read the ticket guidelines.

The View has a dress code for live audience members. “Guests are encouraged to dress ‘upscale casual’ and look trendy. No tank tops, large logos on hats or shirts, t-shirts, shorts, or solid white or solid black tops.”

As if the revelations from people who have “been there” were not enough to change my mind about wanting to attend a taping, I read the book Ladies Who Punch:  The Explosive Inside Story of The View. Written by award-winning journalist Ramin Setoodeh, it promises to deliver “the gossipy, real-life soap operator behind the show,” and it does. Interviews with the cohosts disclose bickering, ego-tripping, and hiring and firing of cohosts. In addition, revelations come to light about the personalities of the cohosts — some unyielding, others fragile — and the backstage shenanigans, including Star Jones’ wedding fiasco, Elizabeth Hasselback’s meltdown, and Rose O’Donnell’s putdowns and temper tantrums. It is all there on every riveting page. Prepare to be surprised. I was.

In the meantime, I bulleted below some of the comments I read by reviewers and, where necessary, edited or paraphrased.

  • Being a ticket holder does not guarantee entry, even if you arrive early. Guests are advised to arrive by 9:30 a.m. sharp. Standby/same-day tickets are handed out at the audience entrance. To increase your chance of getting a standby ticket, you should arrive and stand in line before 8:30 a.m. The wait can take one to two hours, so dress appropriately for the weather.
  •  A 72-year-old woman wrote: My friend had the tickets in his name. He arrived very early, at about 8:15. [The staff] promptly cut off the priority ticket line at 9:00 a.m. I arrived at 9:03. They told me to go to the “standby” line. After 10 minutes, they said people in the standby line should leave because they were filled to capacity. The attendants didn’t listen to my reasoning that my friend was in line waiting for me even though my friend also tried to reason with them. They were rude and unaccommodating. We had ordered the tickets way in advance. I will never again attempt to get tickets to The View.
  •  Another person wrote: It doesn’t matter how early you arrive and get in line. I showed up at 7 a.m. so we could be the first ones there and get front-row seating, but that didn’t matter. They [the staff] sit you wherever they feel like it. I was furious. We were the first ones there but were assigned to the last row behind the cameras. And if you need to use a restroom during the wait period, you must wait to be escorted.
  • Regarding the taping, the hosts could have cared less if they had a live audience. We were merely props. They could have run a laugh, applause, or other soundtrack and never missed us. There was an opportunity to ask the cohosts questions during commercial breaks, but they pretty much ignored the audience. I have been a fan of The View since day one and am greatly disappointed with the experience. I would not recommend the trip; it is better to watch from home.
  •  Donna Brazile was the guest on the program, and the audience was promised a copy of her book, which I was excited about. After the show’s end, when we were instructed to leave, I asked one of the staff members about the book to no avail.
  • I’ve been to The View a few times. 1iota gives out Priority and General Admission tickets. It doesn’t matter what kind of ticket you have. The staff members who check in the audience decide where they seat you. I don’t find that fair and don’t think it’s worth seeing The View in person because of this process; instead, watch it on TV.
  • I signed up for my tickets online and met great people in line. We were admitted into the studio around 9:45-ish. You get one chance for the bathroom, so TAKE IT! Taping takes an hour; then, you’re quickly kicked out of the studio. The staff will not allow people to use the bathrooms after the show.
  • It was a View Your Deal Day, and [that segment] is not taped in front of the live audience. We sat there for about fifteen minutes while Sarah taped it backstage. You also wait outside for a while before being admitted inside. There’s no awning or anything to protect you if it’s raining or very cold.
  • I’m so disappointed. Thank goodness my husband & I were in NYC for three days because I would have been furious if I had gone just for this show. We received priority tickets, which meant nothing, and we had to stand in line in the rain.

*              *              *

Barbara Walters died on December 30, 2022. Long-time fans of The View will always appreciate the program’s innovativeness and Barbara’s tagline, “I’ve always wanted to do a show with women of different generations, backgrounds, and views.” And so she did.

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Remembering Tina Turner, Superstar

by on ·Entertainment, Memory Lane

When a light goes out on a beautiful life force, it is deeply upsetting. I am paraphrasing the words said today by Joy Behar on 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑉𝑖𝑒𝑤 as the show’s cohosts discussed the sad death yesterday of the phenomenal performer Tina Turner.

Like Joy, since yesterday, I am moved to near tears whenever I hear one of Tina’s songs playing. I thought it was just me. I want to thank Joy for helping me not feel like a weirdo as I associate the memories of many of Tina’s songs with different times in my life.

Like many boomers, I grew up listening to Ike and Tina Turner on the radio. When “The Ike and Tina Turner Revue”  premiered at Washington, DC’s Howard Theater in February 1961, I was a “skinny legs and all” teenager, as Joe Tex would sing. I was also broke and asking my parents for money to go to a show, even though concert tickets were not nearly as costly as they are today; well, let’s just say that I couldn’t scrape up enough change to go see the live performance and leave it at that.

The next time the revue returned to Howard in September 1965, I was in high school and still couldn’t afford the price of admission. So although Tina Turner was performing just a stone’s throw from my home – I’m talking a few blocks, walking distance of about five minutes – it didn’t matter. I missed both shows. I was fortunate, however, to catch the couple’s performance on 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐸𝑑 𝑆𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑛 𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑤 in 1970. Still, I regret that I never saw them (especially Tina, in later years after she went solo) perform in person.

In 1984 when Tina broke out with Private Dance, I was so happy that she was back on the scene. I fell in love with that song, and her videos and Tina Turner shot right back to the top of my list of favorite female performers. Since yesterday, her album, Tina:  All the Best, has become my playlist’s most frequently played album.

One of my favorite authors, the late Nora Ephron, wrote, “Above all be the heroine of your life, not the victim.” Tina’s refusal to be a victim and stay in a bad situation with her husband led her to rescue herself, and as a result, she became a world-renowned superstar and, for women everywhere, a shero.

Yesterday as a close friend and I were commiserating about Tina Turner, discussing books we’ve read by and about her and movies and documentaries we’ve seen, my friend lightened the moment when she said, “I hope Tina has earned a place in heaven because she sure lived through hell with Ike.”

Rest in peace Tina Turner, from your forever fans. You were an original and will be forever — the Queen.

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Are Scary Movies Grossing Us Out?

by on ·Entertainment, Movies

What right-minded, mature woman’s idea of date night is to binge-watch horror movies? I emphasize mature (or senior women, if you prefer), not teenagers and young adults because many in the latter group enjoy blood and gore films. Granted, some older folks do, too, but I prefer dramas, romance, or a good action flick over a gruesome horror show.

My tolerance for scary movies began to wane decades ago when moviemakers decided that scaring viewers half to death wasn’t enough. Instead, they started blitzing us with enough blood and guts to make you holler for your mama. Psycho spooked me. Rose Mary’s Baby sent shivers down my spine, and Freddie Krueger cost me many sleepless nights. When I discussed this subject with my daughter, who I consider a connoisseur of movies, she reminded me that the Nightmare on Elm Street films had plenty of bloodletting by the razor-handed villain. Okay, scratch that one from the scary minus the bloodletting group. Still, there is no denying that horror movies have progressed from extremely frightening to highly gruesome. Nothing is off-limits, meaning anything goes.

As I was saying, recently, against my better judgment, I binge-watched the Final Destination films with my SO. Afterward, when I told my daughter, she said, “Mom, those films are old.” Then, I reminded her, “So are we. We catch up when we can.”

For my readers who haven’t seen the Destination films, the theme is about people cheating death – or so they think. I am not exaggerating when I say the death scenes are disgusting. After watching the first four movies (I know – I can’t believe I made it through them either) and needing a break from seeing bodies beheaded, crushed, and disemboweled, we decided to hold off on watching Destination 5 for a few days.

A week later, we watched number 5. I admit the screen watched more of me than I did it because, as I often do, when I anticipate gore coming, I covered my eyes or turned my head. And, to my surprise, even Mr. Macho SO found some sights horrifying. I know this because on a couple of occasions, when I refused to look at the screen, he shrieked, “Whoa! Oh, my God,” and I know his scream had nothing to do with pleasure.

Folks in the film industry who rate movie popularity claim a vast audience for pictures depicting horrific incidents of physical violence and psychological terror. Hollywood seems so hooked on including unpleasant occurrences in movies, including those not in the horror genre, that nearly every film is likely to show at least one repulsive scene. Think about it. How often have you been watching a drama or side-splitting comedy when, as if the director decided that the movie was too clean, a character pukes? Who wants to see that? Not me.

My SO suggested that movies like Final Destination should be rated G for gruesome. I reminded him that there is already a G category. According to the MPFA (Motion Picture Film Association), there are currently several categories of films based on content. Those are rated as follows, with my slightly inflated descriptions.

G – General audiences. Come on. Come all. Everybody’s admitted.

PG (for parental guidance) and PG-13 – These films could have some moderate violence and mild sex scenes that you may wish your preadolescent darling had not witnessed.

R – Restricted. Under 17 must bring a parent or adult guardian. In addition to disturbing violence, films in this category may contain risqué sex scenes. Call me prudish, but at my age, I’ve grown tired of seeing naked people on screen sucking faces and booty bumping. However, I prefer implicit sex scenes over murder and mayhem.

NC17 – means no one under 17 is admitted (even if you drag along an adult).

M – for mature audiences. These extreme films show butchery, intense violence, and torture. Reportedly, some movies in this category are so shocking that viewers have been known to faint or vomit. Films like Raw, Martyrs, or We Are the Flesh are a cup of blood for anyone inclined to the macabre. I’ve never watched them, and I won’t, but I read that some scenes include cannibalism and excessive torture. So viewers are advised to skip the popcorn and the cherry Slurpee!

I think people who enjoy overdosing on psychologically disturbing films have one foot on the dark side, but that’s just me. An article on Health.com expresses a different opinion of people who enjoy having the devil scared out of them.

In the meantime, I thought of a category for films depicting grisly scenes. How about DG (D-disgustingly G-gross)?

I don’t care how filmmakers categorize them because I’m done with horror films. I find them as repulsive as a urine-soaked floor littered with wads of toilet paper in a gas station restroom. Picture that. On second thought, don’t!

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GI Jane Joke was no Knee-Slapper

by on ·Entertainment, Opinion, The Way I See It

Wow! Not since I saw the butt-naked streaker run across the stage during the 1974 Oscars have I seen anything so mouth-dropping as when Will Smith slapped the GI Jane joke out of Chris Rock’s mouth. And as if the smack heard around the world wasn’t enough, Smith went back to his seat and shouted obscenities. “Keep my wife’s name out of your f***ing mouth.”

Since everyone else with two lips and a pulse is opining about the Smith-Rock show, I’m adding my two cents.

Rock’s joke may have been in poor taste, but when is using physical violence against someone who says something you dislike okay? Is it all right for a student to strike a school teacher because he or she was asked to stop cutting up? Heck no. Is it okay for a parent to hit (and God forbid spank) their misbehaving child when a time-out is a waste of time? Well, that depends on who you ask.

The same premise can be applied to the infamous slap. Two wrongs don’t make a right. As I see it, the problem with many of today’s rebellious youths is that they have out-of-control parents as role models. Case in point – Smith’s son Jaden reportedly tweeted, “And that’s how we do it.” Would his response have been the same if Smith had pulled out a gun and shot Rock dead?

Smith lost points with me when he displayed a hair-trigger adverse reaction to what was said in jest. And I wonder, did it occur to him – for a split second – to wait to talk to Rock man-to-man off-stage and tell him that he didn’t appreciate his bad joke? Or was the actor hell-bent on displaying another Oscar-worthy performance?

Judging by what I’ve seen and heard, the public is divided on their feelings about the incident. If ordinary people expect celebrities to be role models, then Smith needs to check his demeanor because his inappropriate behavior took him to a new low. On the other hand, Rock showed restraint and class; he also refused to press charges for the assault.

According to ET the Oscars is broadcast in over 200 countries. Being the recipient of the bitch-slap heard around the world is the ultimate humiliation. I don’t even want to think about the outcry that would have resulted if Rock had socked him back and the two wound up grappling on the stage. That surely would have gotten more gasps than the naked man streaking across the stage over forty years ago.

I’ve heard some folks say that they wonder if Smith was under the influence of too much alcohol or some other judgment clouding, courage-boasting substance or if he was having a breakdown. Many folks are also saying that they believe there is something deeper eating at Smith than Rock’s GI Jane joke.

Since we were not privileged to hear the conversation between Denzel, Tyler Perry, and others who appeared to be trying to comfort Smith backstage, we don’t know what they were saying to him. I’d like to think that instead of saying, “Way to go, man!” at least one, if not all, of them, told him that what he did was out of line. It has also been reported that Smith said Denzel told him, “At your highest moment, be careful. That’s when the devil comes for you.'” Take heed Will Smith. Take heed.

This morning on The View, Smith’s mom expressed her surprise about her son’s actions. She said that she had never seen him behave that way.

And while many people are empathizing with “Poor Will” I agree with today’s guest host also on The View. She expressed her thoughts concerning the possible reasons for Smith’s behavior and whether the Academy should discipline him. She said, “Just because you can explain it doesn’t mean that you should excuse it…We cannot have selected consequences to decide who gets punished and who doesn’t.”

Will Smith may one day receive a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, but it’s likely already being tarnished by the legacy of his recent Oscar-winning night behavior.

That’s my two cents, and I’m taking it to the bank.

 

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Not Easy Listening

by on ·Entertainment, Lifestyle and Culture, Music, Opinion

Today’s sound of music is a far beat from the 1965 Mary Poppins’ soundtrack. Old school sanitized hits like I’m Gonna Make You Love Me have been replaced by a genre of sexually explicit (some would say downright obscene) tunes like My Neck, My Back.

A sexagenarian (How’s that for a play on words?) friend of mine enjoys good music as much as I do. Like other mature people of our generation as we aged-out of youthful imprudence into responsible adulthood some things changed, but not our taste in music. However, unlike me, my friend can readily identify some of the contemporary and hip-hop artists about whom I know nothing and could care less. And while I consider much of the present-day music to be a waste of talent and airspace, he often defends it. But something that occurred recently when he was dining in a buffet-style restaurant gave him second thoughts.

When he began telling me the story, I figured that he was going to gross me out about the food. I didn’t want to hear that, because I have occasionally eaten at that place (that I will not name), although it has never been on my list of favorites.

It turns out that his complaint was not about the food or the service. His beef was over the sexually explicit lyrics in a song that was playing over the restaurant’s sound system as he was preparing to leave. He said he approached the owner and a clerk who were standing at the register near the doorway and in an unobtrusive voice complained that the music playing was unsuitable in a family diner. His expression of disapproval apparently motivated some other patrons who were standing nearby because a few of them chimed in. One man, who my friend guessed to be fortyish in spite of his backward-turned cap, said, “He’s right. There are small children in here. They don’t need to be listening to that s**t.”

Then, an older woman described as having the demeanor of a no-nonsense, church lady, added, “It’s a shame. This is a family restaurant. That music is totally inappropriate in a place like this. This ain’t some hip-hop joint.”

The owner apologetically explained that it was Sirius XM radio and added that he had no control over what the station was playing. As he left, my friend heard someone in the group (perhaps it was church lady) say, “Is it unreasonable to think that you could change the channel?”

When I asked my friend what was the name of the song. He said, he didn’t know it, but then he repeated some of the lewd lyrics. (Did you think that I was going to write those words here? Really?) No, I’m can’t name that tune either, but I’ll bet it’s on the Rankers list of rappers with the dirtiest rhymes. Finished reading this post, before your curiosity leads you to rush over to that page and check out the list.

Some of you readers may remember that in 1985, Tippy Gore, wife of Senator and later Vice President Al Gore, spearheaded an organization called The Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC). It championed the cause for including Parental Advisory labels on albums containing foul language and explicit lyrics.

PMRC faced strenuous objection from numerous people, including many in the music industry like John Denver, Ice Tea, and Frank Zappa, who protested that the proposed labeling would result in censorship.

In his book, “The Ice Opinion” published in 1994, Ice T wrote, “Tipper Gore is the only woman I directly called a bitch on any of my records.” In the same book, he later seems to express regret, saying, that he was 15 years old during the time of the PMRC controversy. He continues with, “I am now 41 years old and the father of two teenaged girls.” Ice T, whose real name is Tracy Lauren Marrow is now 60 years old with three daughters. I wonder how much has he changed his tune?

Although Tippy Gore and three other women whose husbands held prominent positions were successful in forming the PMRC, that guidelines and rating system did not last.

The current Parental Advisory warning label, trademarked by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) grew out of the PMRC. It was introduced in 1990, the same year that PMRC shut down. The label, now affixed to germane music products and other merchandise, does not control what is broadcast over radio programs. And while some broadcasters play edited versions of songs to eliminate content that may be considered objectionable or age-inappropriate, owners of restaurants and other businesses should assume some responsibility for music played in their establishments.

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