In tune and in character
Being that “Being the Ricardos” is being touted for awards, Javier Bardem is now being truthful. In the film he plays Lucille Ball’s husband Desi Arnaz. Desi the Cuban musician sang in real life. Javier the Spanish actor therefore has to sing in reel life.
There was a problem. The guy doesn’t sing. But he wanted the role. But a good actor is what he is so he pulled it off. What he did was he gave director Aaron Sorkin a con job. However, Sorkin’s so smart he can even tell when a script is lousy just by smelling the paper it’s on. He knew, he understood, but he wanted Javier who definitely said he definitely sings. However, he definitely couldn’t even hum. Niente. Nada.
Even his speaking voice is way lower than Desi’s. But he quick ran to nail a singing coach and get lessons. Calm yourselves: A junior Bruno Mars or Justin Bieber he’s not. Opening for Taylor Swift he won’t. But he now sings in the movie. And he says: “Actors lie a lot to get roles. This wasn’t my first time.”
He also says he now plans to get more singing roles. So let’s all of us maybe watch for him on “America’s Got Talent.”
Punchy pub
Woody Harrelson, whose doings make many awards lists, also made the London Mirror awhile back. He and Kyle MacLachlan had gone for a wee nip in a West End boozer. Seems then an innocent bystander — lacking bladder control — accidentally slammed the gents room door so fast it hit pal Kyle. Woody made as though to wham bam slam the poor guy who only innocently needed to attend to a fast tinkle. Eventually calming down, Woody then invited the pee-er to join them. And all three downed pints happily ever after.
Andy’s world
“Chasing Andy Warhol” is set to be a new friendly show. The thing opens in March. Not indoors with masks. Outdoors with boots. It’s schloomping and schlepping on sidewalks. A walking tour production which takes place on the streets of the Lower East Side. Ask: Why? Answer: To, for some reason, relive the life and times of elusive, mystical Warhol.
Hooking listeners with tuna
Even before Samuel Morse’s dot-dot-dash thing, Joan Hamburg was on radio. She’s always been on radio. Her crib probably came with a microphone. WABC calls her the First Lady of Radio.
Joan: “Early on I didn’t know what to talk about. The guy who hired me said, ‘So talk about tuna fish.’ Tuna fish? He said, ‘Yeah, everybody likes tuna fish.’ Finally they got me a tutor where I was taught, ‘Never go on the air without at least four topics you can talk about in case your guest doesn’t talk.’ Great advice. I can’t tell you how many guests just can’t talk!
“Later on I screwed up when I had one guest who was making me nervous. It was Good Friday. And I was like being up and happy. Right away there was a moment of appalling silence. The station people were very Catholic. They weren’t happy at hearing wow-ee happy Good Friday. Fortunately, someone ran out and got a guitar and started playing and saved my behind.
“We’ve all had bad times. Like major tennis player Billie Jean King. I didn’t quite know what to begin with, so I asked her about being gay. She got so angry she literally took off. I never saw her again.”
Stutman Stutman & Lichtenstein’s Michael Stutman is a divorce lawyer. He had a lady client who sued the former husband for unreimbursed small stuff — like $2,500. Jeffrey, the ex refused, wouldn’t pay, so the cranky client wanted back to court. There its judge found for this wife, PLUS ordered the ex to reimburse her $77,000 — the amount it cost for attorneys to chase him down.
It brings to mind the immortal words of Plato who once warned his former partner: “Irv, hell hath no fury like a Manhattan lawyer stiffed.”
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.