Sing Along With Meryl

by Odie Henderson August 20, 2008 11:27 am
Sing Along With Meryl When I die and ascend to heaven's Pearly Gates, right before St. Peter says "Nuh-Unhhh!" and pushes the big button labeled Hell, he's going to sing "So long, see you honey/You can't buy me with your money." Thanks to the Hot Blog, I now know what my Hell is going to look like. Taking a cue from the numerous people who have danced in the aisles at the Winter Garden, Universal is now releasing the Sing-Along, Dance-Along version of Mamma Mia! That exclamation point belongs to the title, not my obvious excitement (not!) at this revoltin' development. As the worst part of any ABBA song appears onscreen, people can sing and dance, hopefully better than Pierce Brosnan does in the film. This is the beginning of the end, people! The 70's are returning and I'm all out of Afro Sheen! Next, folks will show up in bad jumpsuits and wigs, and CNN will catch self-admitted ABBA fan John McCain dropping it like it's hot to "Take a Chance On Me" at the AMC Googleplex in Phoenix.

Mamma Mia!: Psychic Candy With A Disco Soundtrack

by Lauren Gitlin July 17, 2008 1:35 pm
<i>Mamma Mia!</i>: Psychic Candy With A Disco Soundtrack

I need to start by saying that I am not an inordinately rabid fan of ABBA, nor am I a musical theater acolyte -- in fact I hate musicals for their campy, over-the-top cheesiness. Needless to say, I did not see Mamma Mia! on Broadway. I went to see an early screening of the film adaptation of said Broadway musical with a fair amount of trepidation. And I was pleasantly surprised by my lack of homicidal feeling once the closing credits rolled.

Mamma Mia! There you go again! My, my. I cannot escape you!

by Odie Henderson July 16, 2008 10:11 am
Mamma Mia! There you go again! My, my. I cannot escape you! Please allow me this short rant. When I went to see Hellboy II, I walked into a theater that looked like a shrine to ABBA. There were at least five posters for Mamma Mia hanging from the ceiling. MM's star, Amanda Seyfried, stared accusingly at me from my popcorn and soda containers, as if to say "I can't believe you ordered a Diet Pepsi to go with that extra large tub of popcorn." The player piano in the lobby loudly played an ABBA tune that, absent the insipid lyrics, sounded prettier than I remembered. "I hate that song," said the pimply-faced teen who, a few seconds prior, had bogarted me into buying the aforementioned extra large popcorn "for just fifty cents more!" I looked at his name tag and understood where his ABBA hatred stemmed from: The tag said Fernando.



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