As some of you know, I accidentally bought tickets to NKOTBSB in Melbourne. I do not live in Melbourne. Then it turned out they were front row, so I decided maybe I did live in Melbourne, at least for a night, and met Iconis (iconis) down there for some boyband fun.

We ended up against the barrier about two metres down the catwalk, which was the perfect place to watch the show, and when the Boys did their singing to girls they plucked from the audience, Nick was right in front of us.  I didn't take many photos, because I'm not much of a photo-taker and I only had my iPhone anyway, but I did take the one above (unzoomed, unedited). Hi!

The show started slow. Nick was in a weird mood, talking to the other guys about something that was wrong with the opening, judging by his gestures, and both bands began with some fairly minor songs. (The One for BSB and Summertime for NKOTB.) There was cheering and singing along and all that, but something felt slightly, indefinably off for the first twenty or thirty minutes.  Then the hits came out, and the fans got really into it, and it turned into an awesome party with thousands of your friends.

To both groups, this is clearly a second (third, fourth) chance to do what they love in front of an audience who loves them back. But when I was thinking about it on the way home, I realised what this concert is, really, is a celebration of women, especially women of a certain age. Nick said at one point, "I'm still young, I'm only thirty-two," and in this crowd, he was young, or at least on the low side of average. This wasn't an audience of teenies, any more than these were boybands made up of boys.

When Donnie ripped his tank down the middle and threw it into the screaming crowd, it was ridiculous, and it was cheesy, and it was hot, of course, because the man has an amazing body, but it also felt kind of like a middle finger to anybody who thinks that a woman should stop being sexual once she hits her mid-twenties, or at least keep it behind closed doors so nobody's grossed out by it. Donnie's well-aware of the age of the audience he's playing to, and he doesn't care, and we don't care, because we're all too busy having a good time.

So, boybands as a feminist act. Somebody smarter than me's probably written about that already.

( On to the squee )

My favourite moment of the night was right near the end. After Backstreet's last block of solo songs, the four of them stood on the stage and looked out at the cheering crowd. I saw Nick say, "Wow. Wow," a couple of times, and then he put his mic to his mouth and said it again so the other Boys could hear, and Brian was wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, and Howie's eyes looked really glassy, too. I was happy in that moment; happy they're still going, happy to have the chance to experience this all over again. There'll always be new boybands, but there'll never be another Backstreet, and they've brought so much joy to my life over the years, both directly and indirectly. Life always needs more joy.

I'm so glad I accidentally ended up in Melbourne, and I can't wait to see the show again in Sydney next week. Thanks to Iconis for coming with me!

You know what's terrible? Well, many things, but also Smash.

Smash is a show about creating a Broadway musical based on the life of Marilyn Monroe. When it started, it looked like it'd be Glee for adults. Now, it looks like Glee for people who like ridiculous melodrama, unlikable characters, and leaden writing. (Mm… too easy.) Although there haven't been any Very Special Episodes -- and indeed, the show's gay romance is down-to-earth and enjoyable and the only love story it handles well -- almost every plotline lands with a thud.

Then there's the dialogue. Sample from tonight's season finale:

Ellis: So don't ever call me an assistant ever again. I am a PRODUCER.

Eileen: You are fired, that's what you are. Now get out of my theatre, Ellis. (dramatic pause) I'm not kidding.

Ellis: You haven't heard the last of this.

Thunk.

But the biggest problem with Smash is what I call the Telling You Stuff That's Clearly Bull problem. In a show like this, you can either tell us somebody's brilliant, or you can show them being brilliant and let us draw the conclusion for ourselves. What you cannot do is show somebody being mediocre and have all the other characters fawn over how amazing they are. It undercuts the world of the show and breaks mimesis, because if all the characters think some guy doing a karaoke-level performance of Bruno Mars is "brilliant", we can only conclude they don't know what they're talking about, and as these people are meant to be skilled professionals with a history of working in musical theatre, that's a problem.

In its first season, Smash had these kinds of moments at least once an episode. Many of them were born out of a fundamental casting problem.

The show pits two women against each other for the part of Marilyn: Ivy Lynn, the Broadway chrousgirl looking for her big break (played by real-life Broadway performer Megan Hilty) and the fresh-from-Iowa Karen Cartwright (played by American Idol's Katherine McPhee.) Hilty is pretty great as Marilyn: she has the body, she has the sass and the sex, and sings like the Broadway professional she is. Katherine McPhee is too skinny, oddly asexual, and sings like she's still doing pop covers. Yet the show repeatedly tells us that Karen is the One True Marilyn. I kept hoping it was some kind of fake-out, that Karen would get her shot and fail and that would lead to interesting plot developments. ( Spoiler for tonight's episode that you'll have already guessed by the time you've finished reading this cut tag )

Also, half the characters are unlikable, and the other half are incredibly unlikable. Debra Messing deserves better than the cheating shrew she's been given to play, and the actor portraying her son might just be the worst teen actor on television. And I watch a lot of CW shows. About the only actors who escape largely unscathed are Christian Borle, who plays Tom, half of the aforementioned gay couple and generally the voice of reason, and Megan Hilty, who manages to somehow take all of Ivy's ridiculous plots -- and she ended on a dozy tonight -- and make them work way more than they have any right to.

And yet, and yet-- what kept me coming back is this show's potential. It has actors who could be great, given the right material. It has plotlines that could be, well, plotting is the show's biggest problem, but it could fix those, right? It has a great cast of minor characters and chorusboys and girls, and the staging of the show's musical numbers is almost always a highlight. And then there's the songs themselves, written by Broadway vets Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, many of which are very good. I can't find the video version, but here's the audio of one of my favourites: Don't Say Yes Until I Finish Talking by Christian Borle.

The show's returning for a second season, and creator/showrunner Theresa Rebeck is stepping back to just being head writer, which may or may not bring the changes that the show needs. But the biggest problem is always going to be the one they can't get around, I don't think: having set up the limp-as-a-noodle Karen as the show-within-a-show's shining star, how do they bring things back in line with the viewer's reality? Maybe Karen should be on the lookout for falling anvils.

So, Smash. I'd tell you it's brilliant, but. You know.

So, the Knicks are out of the playoffs. Let's console ourselves with some pretty.

Here's Jeremy Lin doing his best Neo/Bruce Lee/something, as Landry Fields looks on in his nerd glasses.

From JR Smith's instagram. I'll miss his pics when he signs with another team next season, but I won't miss his erratic playing. Bye, JR!

Tyson Chandler getting ready for the recent Met Gala.

From Vogue's slideshow.

Derrick Rose (from the Bulls) in GQ: article and slideshow.

So here's a summary of the Knicks vs Heat playoffs so far.

Game one:
Knicks lose by thirty-three.
Iman Shumpert tears his ACL, out for six-eight months.

Game two:
Knicks lose by ten.
Amar'e Stoudemire slams his hand into a fire extinguisher case and slices his palm open.

Game three:
Knicks lose by seventeen.
But nobody hurts themselves. Yay?

Game four:
Knicks have to win this game to stay in the playoffs. Knicks win by two!
Baron Davis dislocates his knee, possibly ending his career.

Game five (upcoming):
Jeremy Lin, who hasn't played since late March and is recovering from knee surgery himself, may or may not come back for game five. If he does, there seems to be an even chance he'll either injure himself more or begin Linsanity II: Electric Boogaloo. There is no middle ground.

This team, friends. This team. Thank goodness they only play for six months at a time, because I don't think I could take this rollercoaster year-round.

Stuff!

NoNoSparks Genesis

A really cute flash puzzle game that's basically nonograms in a very sharp package. I spent way too long playing this the other night and only stopped because I'd finished it.

The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal

After getting into Teahouse, I started looking around for other online comics with an LGBT bent and came across this one. It's quiet and thoughtful, with great dialogue and simple, clean art. It reminds me a bit of the 1990s indy comic Strangers in Paradise, which I absolutely adored, before Strangers in Paradise went, well, strange.

I'm sure there must be other good LGBT comics online. Do you have any recs?

Fuck You, Broccoli

Amusing rants about vegetables. This one's for you, Al.

A Show with Ze Frank

Ze Frank is back! And as wonderful as ever. If you never watched Ze Frank when he was doing The Show (not to be confused with the current A Show), he's a thoughtful, irreverent guy with a great sense of humour and a quirky way of looking at the world. Every day's a little brighter with three and a half minutes of Ze in it.

Here's Ze Frank on make believe.

This morning, I declared it was Only Talk About Happy Things Monday.

About twenty minutes later, I read that Kevin is re-joining Backstreet. I guess that counts as a happy thing, yeah.

(Whee!)

Storytime!

I know most of you aren't that familiar with the Knicks, but you don't need to know much to read this story, should you like to give it a go. Here's a couple of facts to help you along:

1 :: This is Landry Fields and Jeremy Lin.

2 :: They're awfully fond of each other.

And you're good.

( Jeremy's quiet on the plane to Toronto. )

Day sixty-something: still hearting the Knicks. It's been a lot of fun slipping into my first new fandom since popslash, even if the sum total of my fannish activity is reading a lot of blogs, watching games, and squeeing with Ro about things. There must be more people on lj into basketball rps, right? I should try to find them.

There may also be storytime in the next day or two, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

This is the last week of the regular season, and then the Knicks are going to the playoffs (yay!), so that's at least the next few weeks, but after that, I'll probably get back into popslashy stuff. I still plan on finishing up the Festival Recs and the What They're Up To posts, and I have at least two popslash stories I want to squish into shape. And next month, I'm going to see NKOTBSB. So I'll still be posting popslash stuffins. I'm just branching out a little.

Also, how damn adorable are these illustrations by Dou Hong? They're of Jeremy Lin and Landry Fields.

From douhong.tumblr.com.

If you're thinking, "Who are those cutiepies, and how can I find out more about them?" please allow me to point you towards the little Knicks Primer I wrote. So in love, btw. So in love.

Hope you're well!

Tyson Chandler

In the past couple of months, I've fallen hopelessly in love with the New York Knicks. This is entirely Ro's fault (littlerhymes), and I'm still not sure whether to thank her. Suddenly, I'm caring. About a sport. And about people who play said sport. It's an awful lot of fun, though, and so to share the love I've put a little primer together. Ro kindly wrote the hard parts. (:

Also, Ro has made a wonderfully wonderful Knicks picspam: part one | part two.

Thanks to Alasen (alasen) and Meelie (meelie) for their feedback.

( Six reasons I love the Knicks, and much, much more )

Dear friends, could you please point me towards some good fandom primers? The fandom doesn't matter; I'm interested in learning what a good primer should contain and the best ways to put one together.

For... no particular reason. Mm. Hi.