Celebrity Interviews: http://www.bluntreview.com Blunterettes , I lead a truly strange life as film reviewer and celebrity interviewer Emily Blunt of BluntReview.com...this is true. In the a.m. it's off to interview a celeb, and by the afternoon, I am dining off The 99 Cent Store products, in the evening - it's gowns and petit fours among the "elite." Oh, this double-life that's mine. You wanna know what I'm up to? Sure, here you go.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Just When Ya Start Feelin' All Bad For Yourself...

Good things can come from the oddest of circumstances – truly. Okay, so I’m dating this tall older guy. Not “my type.” But, no one really seems to be (excluding apparently Oliver Stone…but that’s entirely another tale). Back tothe tail, er, tale at hand...so,"Super-Plus Tampon Man" is what you’d call fun and adventurous, and had a smart brain - so one forgives the other stuff - for a while... The downsides were manageable (especially since it was a light-no-frills to-do 'tween us). He had a few, shall we say, idiosyncrasies – a weird twitch, apparently one dress shirt to his name and an obsession with motorcycles (<- but swell fancy fast machines; the sexy kind...the evil sexy kind).

You always gain something even from the most mundane experiences or bad dating soirees and faux pas. Here I gained the knowledge that I adore driving really fast in the wind (motorcycles are really a kind of convertible heroin), and I was willing to giggle at truly bad jokes, and partake in lame conversation centering on sprokets, knowing - always - this tedium would have an end result; which was a road trip at 100 MPH in the backwoods of America.
In point? I dug the motorcycles – as in stayed past the point of even really liking the guy, just to ride with him - well, have him chaffuer me around at high speeds. Shallow I know - but guys do it all the time no? Did I mention he looked swell in skin-tight leather to boot. Now, who's shallow there you!

The good news is after we had “an accident,” as he kind of liked to drink and drive too (told ya before – bad taste in men is a gypsy curse in my family – see rants at bluntreview.com for that whole sad-story. The lighter-side of near-death is my new found ability to dump him guilt free – and without any real “excuse” development! He hadn't really done much to "upset" me - he just kind of "was." Breath was starting to grate on my nerves...But I was out scott-free! Well, less the permenant damage and all. Hey, it’s pretty hard to be the heal dumper after the guy cripples ya right? I’d found my silver lining in traction – who woulda thunk it. What's he gonna say, 'Sure kid . I crippled ya. But, look on the bright side...I drink too much, have luggage Vuitton wouldn't label, and I'm mediocre in bed. How could you leave me? HOW?" Tah.

Then they did a brain MRI post accident “just in case” that weird new leg numbness and eye twitch was something blood-on-brainy. Guess what? They found MS. Yep. Multiple Sclerosis. I was still okay with their words – NOT happy, natch. But, I remembered thinking, "At least it’s not a brain tumor.” Though later I would learn a tumor may have been better; they cut it out, you have some rehab and viola your back on a horse. Or your not.

So, I adapt. No more kickboxing. Period. And my mountain bike has an inch of dust. I then lost my dog – I know kick ya when your down right? So, I slid into “cheesecake mode.” There’s very little a cherry cheesecake fed ex’d from New York can’t help heal. It helped but alas left me fluffy. Yep. Twenty pounds in two months. Yech. The Dino was blasting, Darin was wailing and Rosemary tried to audibly help - all to no avail. I jhad the slumps. Bad.

Just as I was starting to get all dramatic about the woes of my life – my nephew – the semi-secret agent – pulls one of his calls and says, he’s out of Korea and en route to Iraq – sniper division. I am in a n MS meeting when I get the call...his message says, "Oh, and the cell phone number wont work in two hours – so call soon or perhaps it'll be a year." I'd gotten this call a few times… What is this an episode of 24? Well, yeah kinda actually. I ring him during the relaxation segment break; It’s true – he is leaving on a mission in the 0500am to “take care of some things…” That’s double talk obviously. So, I said, ‘Just promise me you’ll stay safe.” He says in the worst Bogart I’ve ever heard, "Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine.” Dear god this little boy I love is now some manly-man off to fight in this ass war. But, he choose to do this – he found his calling – and he’s an uber Democratic patriot; so he must feel the work’s important enough to get involved. I spared him any of my thoughts and reiterated how much I missed him and he has to come back so we can chat about film. He is (ironically) always blown away that I meet celebs. Too cute really. My hero thinks I’m a hero. So, I tell him quickly (as he's checking his equipment) about the George Clooney interview. he knows my mom is a HUGE George fan - he asks if I got his aurograph. Silly goose - no. Clooney's quite cool I tell him - a regular Joe under he looks and charm. Pishaw he insists. He wants me to interview Jessica Alba; and yes he got the Frank Miller hamdcuffs I'd sent to some "location." He's still a boy.
I have o get off the line - I am just gonna wail; and there isn't enough Jazz in the house for this call. So, as shopping is a viable distraction (and safer then cheesecake and valium), I head out today spend my birthday gift certificates at Trader Joe’s. Then it hits me. I may limp, and get tired easy, but you know what? I aint gonna die of MS - it's a new chapter; hard but acceptable. I was able to break free of an increasingly annoying relationship, and most important - for one's perspective on the truly bad parts of life's swirls - I am not on my way to some country to kill or be killed. And, I am not his mom. Or frankly, I’d probably be fit to be tied long ago with his shenanigans. Oddly he’s the spitting image of Jim Carrey- so how exactly does he “slip in” places? That always piqued my interest – but, I’ve probably already said too much. (que Mission Impossible Theme....)

This Friday starts GEORGE CLOONEY WEEK at BluntReview.com: Interview, Film review (good night, and go0od luck) and a few retro-dvd Clooney reviews, and his dear Aunt's early works cd gets a nod. FRIDAY http://www.bluntreview.com

over and out of it

Emily Blunt

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Heard Em Sing...Heard Em Say ; Kinda

Those who read Blunt Review (or my life-diary-bloggy-deal) know a few things about me; I am often very lucky, get rockstar (aka "Kojak" in-the-front) parking spots, tend to get real emotional at and about film, and presently (post Strummer death) dislike 95% of the music out there (hence the music reviewer at BluntReview.com aint me - soundtracks aside - it wouldn't be really fair to the music people who do seem to like the homogenized crapshit pushed on them...).

I also, socially, go to musical mecca Largo just about every Friday night to see Jon Brion. I'd say,"I have my own table," But, door guy Mike doesn't care who ya is- 1st come 1st serve - which I respect. But, I digress.

So, I reserved a hightop table (not an easy task mind you)last Friday eve. I wanted under a certain photo on the wall(Kurt Cobain's) - it's the table which has the best stage view - but I was placed at the first high-top table (tah). It's under Lennon's photo, so, who's complaining? My fellow Libra and demi GOD...probably a good-luck omen.

So, Jon Brion does his usual maniacal 1st set; tonight running about the whole mini-stage, using most of his "toys." JOY.

I'd brought a friend this eve who'd come, basically, to see what the h-e-double hockey sticks, I am constantly attending the "same guy's" show for; "Isn't it always the same set ala every other musician out there?" She thought aloud. Ah, two songs in - she got it. I knew our post-arrival deal (to get her to go) was to simply stay for the first set...not till the wee hours of the morn (my usual stint) - even though, it's the second set is when Jon's friends show and play...

Fair. I'll suffer half-a-fix if it means turning my pal onto audio nirvana.

Okay, today's tale: the table next to us, marked "reserved," suddenly has a "posse" sitting (ascending) upon it. The group is big, loud and done up in that hilarious P Diddyish Gucci wear with car-hood necklaces, except for one smart dressed chap. Also thrown into the mix is a slight-if-cute nebbish sort of guy in a Starsky and Hutch-style sweater. It's dark; and even if I could have full-light, unless Jon's secret guest(s) de jour is Elvis Costello or say Steve Tyler, I dunno who they are...

Here's the fun part (you knew it was coming...). I see this table of obvious VIPs using the cell phone DURING Jon's playing - which is tre taboo. I mean this is UNHEARD of at Largo. People have been tossed to the curb for even shutting the damned things down inside while the maestro plays, er, creates. Yet, Mike the door shark does nothing. The owner Flanagan - a Guy Ritchie mobby sort - does nothing..."Hmm," I thought - these guys are big - BUT WHO in the heck are they?

Break time.

I run out and ask Mike (who's usually mum). I don't really care who the star is (he knows that in me by now), but what was with him NOT jumping on them like a rabid Rhesus monkey about the Snoop Dogg-like cell phone messaging commercial going on?

He tells me, " That's Kayne West." I admit folks I semi-blank. Then I remember he's the guy who TOLD OFF PRESIDENT BUSH during a recent interview regarding the folks down south and the horror of our response from the government; wasted lives, blatant molasses-like dispatches and terror-end-of-world meelee; super power my ass...But, back to Kayne, I think he said (and this was LIVE on air - before they could edit for west coast so I am paraphrasing from friends' information)when asked what he felt President Bush was doing about Katrina, " He doesn't care about black people." Um, or poor white people, or elderly, or gays, or cats, or chi;dren (the U.S. is number 37 in health care benefits for families and "the common folk" people! # 37).

Plus, Jon Brion co-produced West's new cd (that nugget o'info I'd just read and stored in the "possible purchase item just because if Brion's involved it outta be good" area of the cranium).

I didn't ask who the second "guy" (the sweater hotty) was...

I go and tell me journalist friend - she explodes, "That's impossible, Kayne West is doing a marathon in New York how could he be here" blah blah blah. Maybe he flew? The telethon was delayed after his outburst on Bush...but I said nothing. I thought, "Hmm. Maybe I got the name wrong." It's not like I know any names post Who/Clash/Beatle references (at which point I am Trivial Pursuit good at the minutest of facts...).

Jon gets back o stage - beaming - He beams anyway, but this was a "cutey with a surprise gift for his friends" beam; that parent has a "Puppy in the box" for you smile...

Then after sipping his signature coffee chased with Guiness, Jon introduces, "The man who told off president Bush ladies and gentlemen - Kayne West (West comes on stage - handsome fella)and (continues Mr. Brion)...Mr. Adam Levine."

"Who the hell is that?," I thought. My friend knows and as well as 99.9% of the club - as they erupt in deafening applause! I find out later Adam's from Maroon 5. Blank.

Well dear readers, ya know how you always hear about Dylan's earlt pre-legend days, when The Band, and Janis would "stop by" in his local bar/play spot and do a song or two in the Village - just for shits and giggles? Or when rock-music clubs like Boston's "Tea-Party" would have surprise sets by the Who (Keith Moon era)? The Musical Urban Legends of our music loving fore-fathers?

That was this evening. The trio of oddly unified souls "freestyled" a coupla songs for the few witnesses... West did a impromtu rap on the Katrina disaster ( wildly beat poetic - that's what rap is right - 'cept perhaps a tad more urban and rough 'round the edges?) Then Adam did a rappy-Princy voiced Beatles' song, "Nobody Ever Done Me." while Brion, played on...

Just wild. Later, Brion tried to get the two back up by starting the back-beats of "Under Pressure" the rap version. Only to be advised West had left , to which he quipped, 'Yeah, they're probably over at the Mondrian with some prostitutes..." Adam leapt from his table, "I'm still here!' Jon, a tad read faced, but not skipping a beat (pardon the pun), invited Adam up to do the Bowie version of "Under Pressure" - all harmonies and musical creshendoes. And, as always when the "guest music celeb" forgets the words of the non-rehearsed song, Mr. Brion - who is "an encyclopedia of lyrical knowledge" assisted the rockstar while we in the audience chuckled at our leader. The claw is our master...

Go check out the Amazon cd of Jon and Kayne's . Adam Levine from the fab 5 is on the first song, 'Heard Em Say." Or go to BluntReview.com - read and know Brion and order his work (in the interviews section under Music Folks) - you're only helping yourselves...

Friday, September 02, 2005

Everything Happens for a Reason...or Does it?

I'm one of those "always there" folks. If you look to the right of something in the photo - you see me. Usually cropped out - but like Zelig - I am present. I seem to see things others are oblivious to. Perhaps it's the writer in me; always observing.
I know strange things too. Like, where to get cheap eats (good cheap eats) in basically 80% of the world. Yet, it's not like I have a morbid fear of not being able to find food - I just "find" things.

My dear, now gone friend, for example. He was in rehab when we were teens. We had stopped for food in the cafeteria. I learned non-inmate hospital food is super cheap, very clean and extremely good- if you order right. Watch the interns...Average lunch w/ all the trimmings (enough to take home) PLUS all the napkins and single-serve packs you can shove into your pocketbook runs about $4.85 in today's world. I stopped at a hospital for lunch today(free parking), after I just didn't feel like preparing. I wanted a Cobb salad, and a real Coke. Hospitals ALWAYS have "gourmet" salads... and 19274534 napkins, mini-salt & Peppers, and about 50 mayonnaise packages (it's a holiday weekend and I wanna make potato salad.... I was in bargain hunter heaven - the bonus? Cute doctors running around in their scrubs talking about the patients they swore secrecy to. I heard strange and wonderful tales while I pretended to be enthralled with my "World News, rag I parlayed from the waiting area en route to the foodski. One guy was so cute I thought - for a moment - about faking a choking. But, that's just the wrong way to flirt...Don't you think?

I also discovered places like say, The Louvre, have "cateterias." Ha. They are like five-star joints in Fargo! There's even soft violin music pumped in! I still remember the 3.00 lunch; it came with some sort of cheese array and a dessert that would make Emeril request the recipe. Yum-o-rama. Even if they doubled the prices by now - the point is museums often hide great eateries.

I am boiling things for the picnics now, opening all the procured goods and slipping them into containers. I aint cheap- I am a creative. This means I am perpetually broke for my craft. I have links up for BluntReview.com into Amazon- you buy stuff through the links maybe I wouldn't have to supply myself with condiments...
New at the site: a film review of The Constant Gardener, Terry Gilliam Interview a new CONTEST and a link to the RED CROSS for Katrina assistance.


Do try to have a nice holiday