Entertaiment Weekly #716/717 (June 27-July 4, 2003)

It makes little sense to review such a popular, widely-distributed and massively-read weekly magazine, still less sense to review an issue of said magazine that's hopelessly untimely. But the Loud Bassoon takes no prisoners and bothers not with such petty concerns as logic, purpose, story length, editorial focus, or writing style. Consider the following:

I've had a chip on my shoulder about Entertainment Weekly for well over 10 years, ever since my coveted subscription to the defunct American Film was transformed from a monthly swim in the sun-dappled ocean of high-toned filmmaking to a weekly icy plunge into the murky river of low pop culture. From the opening out-of-date blurbs in "News & Notes" to Owen Gleiberman's hatefully off-the-mark film reviews, I despised Entertainment Weekly.

The shoulder chip having since healed into something just smaller than a scabbed-over nick, I find that EW has established itself as a consistent if questionable compendium of what's what, and in retrospect, American Film probably wasn't all that wonderful after all.

And since our culture has continued its profit-driven slide into the garbage dump, at a certain point it's better to just accept the world on its own terms and stop resenting change so much. Expecting less is the melancholy prize of being slightly over 30 as compared to slightly under 20.

And lest I get all suicidal on your ass, I have to admit that EW isn't that bad. They've actually carved a useful niche for themselves somewhere between the syrupy goo of People, the pseudo-insiderishness of Movieline's Hollywood Life and the mean-spirited tabloidism of Us Weekly.

The genius of EW is its ability to distill all of this week's pop-cultural offerings into a series of lists and capsule reviews. Everything that's going on nationwide that's even remotely related to entertainment is covered. The opinions expressed are only relevant to the weak-minded who need some low-paid reviewer's opinion to make their minds up for them (as opposed to those who need an unpaid reviewer to insult them directly in an utterly un-topical magazine review). But the information is extremely useful, especially if you want your finger on the pulse of what America's big media companies want America's pulse to be.

Hugh Jackman graces the cover of this special double-issue, promising an "It List" of the "100 Most Creative People in Entertainment." Jackman is yet another example of the giant machine manufacturing good-looking, affable superstars out of the endless foam of would-be celebrities. Four years ago he literally didn't exist. Today he's on the cover of major national magazines and starring on Broadway.

Try to convince me there isn't some secret annual boardroom meeting of Hollywood bigwigs with piles of actor's headshots deciding who will be next year's six breakout stars. That Jackman's a strong actor and seems to take his good fortune with a big dose of salt makes him all the more appealing, though no less a product of the machine. Death to the machine. Long live the machine.

At the top of the mag, a two-page spread on Gregory Peck seems like overkill, though they do tell you which four of his 50-plus films are worth watching. I usually object to such simplification but since I have zero intention of ever seeing all of Peck's films, or even a small fraction of them, a solid four will do nicely … even just knowing their titles and synopses is enough to pass muster at my monthly Film History Dinner Party.

Next, "Jim Mullen's Hot Sheet" is a top-ten list of cultural buzz-topics with Mullen's pointless comments tacked on. I have never understood this feature, it's purpose, who the fuck Jim Mullen is that we should care what he thinks, and why anyone would think his witless barbs are funny.

Mullen's excesses are voided by the pleasantly news-tickerish "Monitor" of recent births, engagements, weddings, divorces, arrests, and deaths – the full life cycle of any self-respecting celebrity.

The "It List" that makes for the bulk of this issue is perfectly suited for skimming while on the can or waiting for your $12 haircut. Though cluttered, it's still nicely organized into Movies, Music, TV, Books, even Video Games … very useful for dilettantes. They manage to squeak in some pretty cool people among the eraser-nippled starlets, including underrated character actors Paul Giamatti and Jennifer Coolidge (who, they reported to my delight, avidly collects bad art).

There's definitely a few misses (among them one of the skeletal Hilton sisters, both of whom need to just get out of the fucking way already), and plenty of generic choices, but overall I'd say the list improved my pop culture IQ by about a half a point, and will be very helpful for my next magazine review.

From there, the magazine goes into its furious precap of the upcoming week's entertainment. Especially useful are the movie scorecard of multiple reviewers and the compendious list of TV programming. The top ten sales/rental lists in all categories are fun to browse to see what everyone else is doing while you're busy defecating, for example. And there's now even a comics section, though anyone actually reading comics is not reading EW, so I'm guessing it's another sop to the dilettantes, and no complaints here.

All that's missing is a similar treatment of nationally syndicated radio, entertainment-related webcasts, and magazines … but since talk radio is for nerds and gun freaks, the Internet is for goggle-eyed losers, and other magazines are EW's competition, they can be forgiven for such lapses.

The issue closes with a back-page article called "The Joel Stein Show" in which the married Stein has an interview date with a Playboy bunny. I was confused by this story. Who is Joel Stein? What is the relevance of his musings to my upcoming week's dose of beta-wave brain activity? Why end such a populist magazine with something so painfully similar to my own shitty reviews?

It's a confusing end to an otherwise focused issue, but also strangely inspiring that the light humorist observers of the world still have a shot at shaping the hearts and minds of tomorrow's reality contestants.

Review by Crimedog