Are you guys interested in seeing Michael Jackson’s This Is It? Why or why not? Have you seen it already? What did you think?

The critical response to this concert film/documentary, which tracks the rehearsal process for the series of London concerts Michael Jackson was preparing before he died this summer, has been wildly divided , and I’ve got to say, I’m of two minds myself.

On one hand, I’m just not that interested in Michael Jackson. Or at least, writing this post and watching a day’s worth of his music videos last June pretty much got me out of my celebrity mourning period. When he died, Jackson’s music hadn’t been an active part of my life for years, and even though I put a few of his songs on my iPod immediately after he passed, I’m not interested in listening to them now. I mean, I don’t complain when “I Want You Back” or “Smooth Criminal” pops up at a wedding or in shuffle mode, but when I’m hankering for older music, I never dip into his catalogue.

On the other hand, I am intrigued to see a talented artist piecing together a show. The creative process is fascinating and too rarely documented, and it could be interesting to watch a gifted musician and dancer deciding how to make his magic happen.

At best, I’ll end up seeing this movie on DVD. I won’t be surprised, however, if I never see it at all.

Now I’m wondering why I don’t care that much. Is it because Jackson’s work seems so rehearsed and so perfected that it lacks a sense of spontaneous human energy and therefore leaves me cold? Maybe. But I like Madonna’s recent music, and there’s nothing spontaneous there.

Is it because I tend to reject pop stars whom the culture insists are Important? Maybe. Lord knows I never listen to the Beatles of my own volition, and that’s partially because I resent being told that I must love them.

But there was a time, especially when Dangerous came out, that I was up in some Michael Jackson fandom.

Hm… I’ll have to think about this. And watch… I’ll probably see This Is It on cable next year and totally love it.

As my friend (and Critical Condition reader) Jeff C. pointed out in an e-mail he sent me yesterday, the cover of Adam Lambert’s album For Your Entertainment is all kinds of andro-glam. Remember earlier this year, when we were discussing whether or not he was actually gay? How silly!

You know what else is silly? The bullshit “controversy” that’s supposedly erupting about the cover. Lambert has taken his case to Twitter, defending his right to be “deliberately campy,” and apparently, there’s some kind of “concern” that the cover of For Your Entertainment will alienate people.

But for an artist like Lambert, isn’t it better to be alienating? I would much rather see him surf a glittery wave than try to present himself as, I don’t know, Bon Jovi or Michael Buble. This cover image makes it seem like he’s staying true to the persona he crafted on American Idol, and that persona was refreshing largely because it wasn’t blandly inoffensive. Yes, it went a little overboard, and yes this cover is a little overboard, but in both cases, Lambert is giving us personality. There are plenty of vaguely cute boys making vaguely good music right now. There are not nearly enough gender-bending homos who can shriek on pitch. Not in the United States, at least.

The cover makes me much more hopeful that For Your Entertainment will be good, or at least interesting. After listening to “Time For Miracles,” Lambert’s single from the 2012 soundtrack, I feared he was going to slide into the generic swamp that swallows so many pop stars who try to please everyone.

And speaking of personality, Rihanna’s new album cover (for Rated R) continues to sell her as a hard-ass 70s rocker, much like her new single “Russian Roulette.” There’s a little Grace Jones in this image, and a little new wave. Interestingly, there’s absolutely none of the bling diva who was on cover of Rihanna’s last album.

Between Lambert and Rihanna, it seems like we might be going back in time… to the days when New York was gritty and murderish, Barbra Streisand had a tiny little Afro, and hard-edged ladies and feminine boys were all the culture needed to survive.

That’s cool by me. What do you think?

Well, the leaves are changing and moms are putting the final touches on Halloween costumes, so you know that that means – it’s time to get started predicting how this year’s Oscar race will shape up based on what’s come out so far. It’s never too early, right? So buckle up and enjoy the ride.

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I can’t possibly be a critic today… not when I just tasted Polar blueberry seltzer for the first time in over a year.

This nectar-like beverage is not available in the New York metro area (disaster!), but Andrew and I both love it… so for his birthday ( yesterday), I ordered two cases of Polar seltzer from the company’s Massachusetts headquarters: one blueberry, one vanilla. All day at my office, I’ve been enjoying a small portion of that gift (see above.)

I would like to dedicate the following poem to today’s beverage experience:

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Here’s a little link-age love for you fine people…

(1) Over at The Film Experience, Nathaniel Rogers is counting down his ten favorite vampires. I was very impressed to see Amanda Donohoe on the list.

(2) Parabasis is hosting an intense debate about how to make young people (i.e., people under 35) go to the theatre. The discussion is refreshingly frank, and I’d love to hear YOUR thoughts on the subject. Regardless of your age, do you go to theatre? Why or why not? Do you wish you went more often? Why or why not?

(3) Ramblings of a TV Whore is asking Glee five very important questions. I’d add, “Why is no one in the school cracking down on the rash of slushee attacks?

(4) Okay With Me regularly analyzes older cartoons. Here’s a great review of a Betty Boop short.

(5) I’m really proud of the story I just wrote for Theatre Development Fund . Tony-nominated actor Christopher Fitzgerald is playing a leprechaun in a Broadway revival of the musical Finian’s Rainbow, and I wrote a piece about how he’s approaching his performance. Speaking with him taught me something about how actors play characters who aren’t human.

I’m glad I didn’t review Where the Wild Things Are the day after I saw it, or even the week after. My review would’ve been wrong.

See, it took me over a week to realize that I didn’t accept the movie on its own terms. I sat down wanting one thing, and when I got another, I decided it was the movie’s fault.

I realize now that I wanted an Aristotelian plot: I wanted one action to lead inexorably to another, and I wanted the story to end with demonstrable change. I don’t expect this structure from everything—I love Virginia Woolf and David Lynch because they ruminate and wander—but frankly, I’ve been so influenced by Pixar’s elegant approach to narrative that I’ve started to expect it from every animated film (I give Miyazaki a pass, since his loose storytelling is a well-known part of his style) . Without being aware of it, I’ve come to accept Pixar’s approach as “the way it should be done.”

My bias kept me from appreciating Where The Wild Things Are. It is decidedly not a film about logically connected actions leading to change. Instead, it’s about a kid who feels things—big, messy,confusing things—and still gets to come home to a mother who loves him. It’s a comforting nod of support to children who have worried that their bad behavior will make their parents abandon them. It’s an assertion that it’s okay to act out sometimes… that nothing will change if you lose control.

How lovely. How resonant with what I wanted to believe as a child and what I finally believe as an adult: Love doesn’t disappear just because you’re human. Your mom will still give you a sandwich, even if you got mad at her earlier in the day.

This point wouldn’t land so powerfully if director Spike Jonze and his co-screenwriter Dave Eggers didn’t let Max, their young protagonist, roam around in his emotions.

After Max causes a giant scene at his house, he escapes into his imagination, which is populated by wild things… creatures who act out just like he does. We see fights, hugs, rowdy games, sudden tears, and laughter that turns instantly to rage. Moments tumble into each other, and collectively, they create a rich portrait of an emtional life.

(For more on this, please read Roommate Joe’s review. Anything else I could say would just be an echo of his insight.)

Reflecting on Where the Wild Things Are, I’m embarrassed that I missed its rich complexity the first time around. I strive to stay open to experience, and I can’t believe I carried that kind of bias into a theatre.

But at least I’ve shaken myself awake. Now I see that Where the Wild Things Are is a bold and tender evocation of an inner life. It says we can feel whatever we want to feel without being punished.

Where the Wild Things Are is not a Pixar movie. But it’s no less beautiful for that.

Warning: Mild Amazing Race spoilers ahead

Let’s talk about Ericka, the former Miss America who is currently on The Amazing Race with her husband Brian. Is she really pulling her weight?

Last week, for instance, when the teams arrived in Dubai, she hilariously noted that “chocolate melts,” meaning she doesn’t like to be in the heat and so couldn’t do the “hunt for water” challenge. Then, during the challenge at the faux winter palace, she declared that she was not a snow bunny. And on last night’s “life raft challenge,”  Brian cheerily interviewed, “This one doesn’t do water.”

Hmm… she doesn’t do heat, cold, or water. What does she do?

Well, she herds ducks with pizazz. And at the beginning of last night’s episode, she said she puts her make-up on every morning, even if she knows she’s going to sweat it off before lunch.

In other words, Ericka does a lot of diva-ing. Or deeving. Ericka deeves.

Normally, this would turn me against her, yet I cannot deny that Ericka is awesome. For one thing, she so clearly loves her husband (and he so clearly loves her) that I can’t stop squishing at their super-cuteness. If they’re both happy, who am I to judge?

For another, Ericka seems to have a pretty good sense of humor about her own high maintenance. I imagine she’s one of those people who jokes about how she hates carrying her own groceries, and then while you’re laughing with her about how girly she is,  you just happen to carry twelve bags to her fifth-floor apartment. But when you leave, you don’t even think about the work you just did, or the fact that you’re now twenty minutes late for Couples Retreat. You just smile about how cool Ericka is and how you really ought to clean her bathroom, since she, like, hates smelling Ajax.

Forget swimsuits. This is how you become Miss America.

p.s. — On a similar note, have you noticed that of the two poker players, Tiffany does all the physical stuff? Shrewdly, Maria praises her before asking her to do things.  “Oh Tiffany, you’re so strong! You can totally row that boat! Also, wouldn’t it be fun to whitewash this fence? Look at how much fun Brian is having!”

By DOUG STRASSLER

As with most of my significant others, I have a love-hate relationship with my cable television’s On Demand service. I love it because it helps me watch more television than will fit into my DVR, which is often saturated to the gills. On the other hand, with most movies and TV shows available to watch at my leisure, there’s no limit to the amount of shows a discipline-averse couch potato like myself can add to my repertoire.

Case in point: a couple of weeks ago, I was home sick and decided to catch up on several of my regular shows from that week. Once I had caught up, though, instead of reading, checking email, or napping, I decided to watch some more TV. I went to the CBS On Demand station and decided to sample the pilot episode of the new sitcom Accidentally on Purpose.

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Did you guys know that books have trailers now? Apparently, they’re popping up more and more in this wild internet age, but I didn’t know about them until I saw the following trailer for Sugarless, James Magrudger’s new coming-of-age novel about a gay Midwestern teenager in the 1970s.

Since Magruder is my friend, I was going to read Sugarless anyway, but I see how the trailer could be an effective marketing tool for someone who hadn’t heard of the book. After all, it does  lay out the story’s major hook: After he joins his high school speech club, a teenager both discovers his self-confidence and has an affair with a grown-ass man. Will the results be sexy? Funny? Speech clubby? Why, you’ll have to read the book!

Of course… I have read the book, and after the jump, I’ll explain why I liked it so much.

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NOTE: I embedded a different audio file of the song. Hopefully, this one won’t give you those weird “you can’t listen to this in your country” messages

Rihanna’s new single “Russian Roulette” was just released this morning…

My first impression? Wow, girl. I was not expecting you to drop a slow-burning power ballad that sounds more like rock than pop, dance, or R&B.

I’m into it, though. It’s not an instant ear-grabber, but by the middle, it’s developed into a full-on storm. Very dramatic. Rihanna’s vocals, too, have retained the personality they gained in “Take a Bow” and “Disturbia.”

If “Russian Roulette” and the new Adam Lambert song are hits, we could very well cycle back to an arena rock phase in pop music. That’s cool with me.