Nothing says “holiday spirit” like a movie about implacable grief, so on the day after Thanksgiving, I went to see The Messenger, an indie drama about a young soldier who has to inform families that their loved ones have died in Iraq or Afghanistan.

What  made this sad movie so weirdly comforting? Read on!

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I’m exhausted by the uproar over Adam Lambert’s sexually charged performance on Sunday night’s American Music Awards.

It’s just so expected. Of course people freaked out over a dude getting sexual with another dude in such an aggressive way on national television. Of course they did. That’s what we do in this country. Unapologetic sexuality always upsets us, and when we see it on programs we assume are going to be vanilla (like the American Music Awards), then we get even more pissed.

And god forbid the sexuality on display should come from a woman. Or a gay man.  America’s tiresome fear of sexual strength in anyone other than a heterosexual man can be predicted like the chimes on an obnoxious clock.

Sigh.

I watched Lambert’s performance, and it’s not even that remarkable. Years of absorbing the MTV Video Music Awards  have inured me to the shock of leather and straps and what have you. Madonna gave this performance at the VMAs 19 years ago, and it’s got as much oral sex and overt gay-assitude as Lambert’s little show. I mean, really… Madonna’s cunnilingus is really overt. No wonder my mom didn’t want me to watch it.

And you know, of course my mom didn’t want me to watch it. And I can see why parents wouldn’t want their kids to watch Lambert. But here we are, same old America, still in a place where instead of saying “turn that off,” we say “Adam Lambert is going to hell, and so is Dick Clark Productions.”

Meanwhile, as my friend Casey pointed out to me, no one is angry about Lambert opening his set by pulling a woman across the floor. Because we don’t get mad about that. That’s a man treating a woman like a sexual object. That’s okay with us. Of course it is. And do the YouTube commenters ever say, “Don’t push your heterosexual nastiness in my face?” or “Do what you want in your bedroom, breeder, but don’t do it on TV?” No. Of course not.

Ugh. I’m exhausted and I’m frustrated. Dammit, people. There are gay people everywhere. No matter where you are in America, you are not far from a gay person right now. Maybe it’s time to accept that and stop being shocked and horrified and offended. You don’t have to think being gay is acceptable, but just shut up about it. No amount of hateful screaming is going to make gay people go away. No amount of outrage is going to get us off your television, so sit down, change the channel, and accept the fact that part of the beauty of living in America is that people have the freedom to do things and celebrate things even when other people don’t like them. If you can do that, then I promise I will not leave angry comments on YouTube videos that have the audacity to celebrate the things you like.

In other news, part of me wonders if any of this Adam Lambert brouhaha is sincere. I’m sure Lambert  was at least partially aware that his actions wold ignite a maelstrom. I’m sure part of his act is a rebel posture. But I also feel like some people are just getting angry about this because they’re supposed to get angry, you know? Like, so many people in this country are conditioned to hate gay people that they just automatically bash something like this without even thinking about it. They’re mad, even if they don’t really know why.

And that’s just exhausting. And frustrating. To take my mind off it, I’m going to go enjoy Thanksgiving with my awesome friends, look forward to Christmas with my awesome family, and then maybe even kiss my awesome boyfriend in a public place.

Even when physical magazines go the way of the rotary phone—and that can’t be more than five years away, right?—Roommate Joe and I hope that Entertainment Weekly still produces a newsstand copy of its year-end issue. You know, the one where they anoint the top entertainers of the year with fancy photo spreads and essays, and then present all the critics’ picks for the best and worst of the last twelve months (that’s last year’s cover shown above). That issue, along with the annual Oscar nominees spotlight, arrives in our mailbox like a gift from pop culture heaven.

And because we are geeks passionately invested in the culture, Roommate Joe and I have decided to predict some of the artists whom EW will choose for this year’s issue, which should arrive in the middle of December. That’s right: We’re calling it early. Boom!

We’re also throwing down predictions for the magazine’s annual list of “Great Performances.” It gets its own issue these days, but in our hearts, it will always be part of the year-in-review spectacular.

And of course, we want to know what you think. Are we right? Wrong? Missing an obvious candidate? Who among us will predict the future?

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Right now, The Amazing Race is sucking me in more than any show on television. Roommate Joe and I had an online chat about last night’s episode, and it turned into a conversation about shady bitches and the series’ moral code.

There are spoilers ahead, but there are also promises of chocolate chip cookies.

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The Critical Condition’s Casey Cole is surprised by her response to Broken Embraces, the new film from Pedro Almodóvar. Find out why…

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… this video is awesome. The sound effects are the reason it works. Have a great weekend.

p.s. — Yes, I am a sucker for cat videos.

p.p.s. — Thanks to Chainsaw Calligraphy for bringing this important film to my attention

You guys, it’s been a big day for professional accomplishments. Over at Theatre Development Fund, we just debuted our first-ever video, which takes us backstage at the Broadway production of Mamma Mia!

I  produced, wrote, and directed the clip. The gifted Chris Bryan shot and edited, and two of my fantastic co-workers star in the opening segment.

This is the first in a series of videos that will take us “behind the curtain” of the New York theatre scene. Enjoy!

Did you see the Project Runway finale last night? I won’t give away who won, of course, but I will say this… it was really bizarre to watch the finalists step out during the Bryant Park runway show and thank the crowd. After all, it was widely reported that during last February’s Fashion Week, the final designers were nowhere to be seen.

That means that at some point, the producers created a dummy Bryant Park show so that Althea, Carol Hannah, and Irina could pretend to wave at everyone. They had the models come out and walk the runway with the designers, as though the entire crowd were there to celebrate their big day. But the crowd wasn’t there. If you watch the final episode of this season, you’ll notice that the judges and the designers are never in the shot together at Bryant Park, and that you never see a wide shot of the designers as they strut the tent. If the cameras did pull back, I’m assuming you’d see the designers were talking to twenty people and a lot of empty chairs.

I understand, of course, that it makes better television to suggest the designers actually got to address the masses at Fashion Week, and a few years ago, that fake-out would have fooled us all. But information is so accessible now that even casually interested fans can learn which parts of the runway show were bogus. That makes watching the show really weird. There are so many elephants in the room that it’s like being at a circus.

I have to go to work, so I’ll stop here for now… but did anyone else think it was surreal to see this half-dummy finale?

Tonight I’m seeing the Broadway revival of Ragtime—which is Andrew’s all-time favorite musical, by the way—and in preparation, I’m reading E. L. Doctorow’s novel. (Can I finish the last 80 pages between the end of work and the start of the show? We’ll see!)

Lord have mercy, this book is great. I know it came out in 1975, but it’s new to me, and I’m flush with discovery. Are Doctorow’s other novels this excellent?

In case you don’t know it, Ragtime is a work of historical fiction about the start of the twentieth century in America. It tackles race, religion, class, art, and the American identity, and it hangs those themes on a story about families whose lives collide.

Since I haven’t finished reading, I don’t want to write a review, but I had to share this passage, which opens chapter twenty seven. It’s one of the best things I’ve read in ages…

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I should not have heard of Emiliana Torrini. She’s an Icelandic singer-songwriter, and while her work is available on American iTunes and she contributed a song to Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, her career exists mostly outside this country.

And yet there she was on the radio this morning. My wake-up station is New York’s Z100, and on Thursday mornings, they play number one hits from around the world. Today, they capped off the segment with Torrini’s “Jungle Drum,” which has topped the charts in places like Germany, Iceland, Austria, and Belgium.

This song is just so cute! And no joke, you guys… I watched this video before I knew Torrini was from Iceland, and I thought, “Hm, she’s got a serious Björk-like quality.” Wild!

If this song were given a chance in America, I feel like it would succeed. It’s got the same quirkygirl vibe that made us embrace Feist and Yael Naïm and all those other folks from the Apple ads, and the low-fi, garage-rock percussion gives it a “real musician” sound that sets it apart from the studio fantasias dominating our charts.

Whaddya say, Critical Condition readers? Can we make “Jungle Drum” happen? Let’s start a campaign! (If you live outside the U.S., then contact your embassy in America and tell them to agitate!)