Once again I’m thrilled to be your Friday Informer escort through what we will refer to this week as the World Wide Web. While I’m being dramatic here, I want to clear something up: No, I didn’t push Molly Sheridan down a flight of stairs or anything. But despite the lack of any film noir-style shenanigans, I hope to prove as catty a surrogate until such time when Molly returns to the FI throne. Without further ado…
- Has this whole videogame music in the concert hall thing jumped the shark yet? I don’t know, but there must be some diehard Nintendo fans sitting on the London Symphony Orchestra’s board of directors.
- “Kitten On The Keys” Cronenberg-style. Don’t get any ideas—I just programmed the SPCA’s hotline into my cell phone. And I vow to never listen to Jingle Cats® ever again! As if.
- Someone went to great lengths in channeling his Gene Kelly nostalgia.
- Need the perfect gift for someone special in your life? Look no further.
- With Brokeback Mountain poised to bring home a few statues on Sunday evening, including best score—take that John Williams—let this be the final thing even remotely gay involving cowboys.
If all these mechanical umbrellas, tortured kittens, and horrible figure skating, all set to a soundtrack à la Super Mario Bros. is making you dizzier than a Belvidere martini, forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown. Fade in music not composed by John Williams.