Ellen Leventry: April 2008 Archives

So Tom Cruise is heading back to the couch. No, not in the psychiatric sense of the word, heaven forefend, but back to Oprah's couch. (Although, it could be argued that O is America's pop psychologist.)

It's been three whole years since the infamous couch-jumping episode and 25 years since the release of the movie that made Cruise a star, Risky Business, and so the worlds' most famous Scientologist will be returning for a two-part, one-on-one episode with Winfrey. The two will tackle such topics as the star's controversial religion, his "Today" show tete-a-tete with Matt Lauer, and whether or not he finds her new couch as jump-worthy. OK, so they probably won't discuss that, but they will be discussing the original couch-jumping episode; which was, for Cruise, the equivalent of "jumping the shark," ironically enough.

American author Fran Lebowitz once noted that "Very few people possess true artistic ability. It is therefore both unseemly and unproductive to irritate the situation by making an effort. If you have a burning, restless urge to write or paint, simply eat something sweet and the feeling will pass." After reading about Yale undergraduate Aliza Shvarts' admission that her senior art project—which supposedly consisted of video of self-insemination and induction of multiple miscarriages— is a hoax, well, all I have to say is, Ms. Shvarts it's time to eat something sweet.

Yesterday the Yale Daily News, reported that Shvarts' entry into the Undergraduate Senior Art Show would include "video recordings of these forced miscarriages as well as preserved collections of the blood from the process." Shvarts told the paper that she was engaging in the macabre cycle not for "shock value," but to "inspire some sort of discourse." As one very astute friend of mine put it, "Isn't that art-world speak for 'I want to be famous?'"

What is it about turning 40 that strikes fear into the heart of the typical American? Does the end of one's fourth decade on Earth mark some elusive tipping point; signaling that there is no turning back, that youthful follies are no longer to be entertained, that it's all going down hill?

Yes, turning 40 means you are now older than 58% of America*, putting you on the deviant side of the standard deviation, but TV Land is hoping to dispel the dread by featuring soon-to-be 40 year olds following their dreams in the new reality show "The Big 4-0." As the show's website says, "Over the hill is so over!"

Last year's "Idol Gives Back" was an exciting experiment in charitable giving with a delightful roughness around the edges and a pioneering spirit. This year the "Idol" team produced a slick telethon with a vast array of stars and even a contestant-laden phone bank luring fans to call in and donate. The show itself was a nice mix of comedy, music and truly touching stories of children suffering in poverty from Appalachia to Africa.

But while I laughed and teared up during the 150-minute special, I felt the show struck a sour note with its closing number: the remaining Idols singing the Christian Praise and Worship anthem "Shout to the Lord," a song they had sung earlier in the evening as well. Now I have nothing against Darlene Zschech's smash hit gospel song, with its wonderfully rousing chorus, but the lyrics are clearly Christian.

Could members of the other Abrahamic faiths— Judaism and Islam—find inspiration in the song? Sure, but with an opening line like "My Jesus, My Savior, Lord there is none like you," it's pretty firmly entrenched in the Christian camp and I doubt viewing Buddhist brethren could, as the judges might say, connect with the song. In fact, I think such a clearly dogmatic song would put off many people who just watched two-and-a-half hours of a program that hoped to demonstrate that we are all part of the same human family.

Why not choose something like "Amazing Grace" a Christian hymn based on Old Testament material that has been sung through the years by Christians and non-Christians alike fighting for human rights and equality? Sure there have been religious contestants singing religious songs, think Mandisa, but never has the show seemed to have a sectarian editorial voice; and, frankly, I've liked it that way.

Last year's "American Idol: Idol Gives Back" was an extraordinary experiment in fundraising. No one really knew if Americans would respond with their wallets the same way they responded to the weekly voting? Would the evening turn in phenomenal numbers or would it be a flop? As we know now, the show surpassed all expectations, bringing in $76 million dollars (that number includes corporate donations and foundation monies) for charities dedicated to eradicating childhood poverty in the United States and Africa.

Tonight the event returns sadly without emcee Ellen DeGeneres, but with a stellar line-up of celebrities, including Bono, Brad Pitt, Reese Witherspoon, Peyton Manning, and Snoop Dogg. But the real attraction of the show isn't the cameos provided by these personalities, but rather the chance to see the personalities of the "Idol" judges.

Simon can actually smile and show that he really does have a heart. Randy "Yo, Dawg" Jackson can be quite articulate when talking about serious issues. Paula's overly sympathetic judging style can make her seem less than pragmatic and, at times, vapid, but her empathy is clear and palpable. And let's not forget about host Ryan Seacrest's transformation from perfectly primped and prepped to within an inch of his life uber-metrosexual to normal human being; albeit a regular Joe with a well-developed sense of style.

You know all those stories that came out about two weeks ago about how March Madness reduces productivity at American companies and that with CBS streaming the games free online will cost corporate America some $4 billion dollars? Well, that'll...

It's no secret that I'm not a huge fan of secretive, esoteric, spiritual communities that charge loads of money to reach higher levels of enlightenment (unless of course they involve cool decoder rings), so what I'm about to say is...