Word: fluff
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...tempting, and condescending, to assume each series will be fluff. Good reality TV--humor me, there is such a thing--has different, usually more introspective objectives from reporting, but it can be independent-minded. Diaries producer R.J. Cutler, who made the acclaimed high school reality series American High, doesn't promise flag waving: "Our goal is to go in and show what it's really like. We go in with a question and not an answer...
Mueller, too, damningly equates—or conflates—art and food. He glosses his own work: “19 fluff bunnies. Nineteen cast plaster rabbits covered with Marshmallow Fluff™. Cast-cover-drip-display-shine-sniff-distaste-desire-ad nauseum.” And true to this description, he offers a bevy of 19 frighteningly exaggerated marshmallow bunnies, perched atop cans of paint on a transparent tarpaulin. They are, to be sure, shiny and distasteful, but again this seems to be Mueller’s intent. The bunnies aren’t themselves sculptures?...
...teen comedy from our friends at MTV Pictures. The film stars Colin Hanks (yes, that Hanks) as Shaun Brumder, a high school senior who desperately wants to attend Stanford University, only to have his dreams crushed by a guidance counselor’s ineptitude. Sound like typical teen fluff to you? It certainly did to me. But then again, it’s almost never a good idea to judge a movie by its premise—especially if you know nothing else going in. Naturally, I never follow my own advice, so I went in expecting crap...
...welcome. Simple and repetitive, the tune becomes tiring before the first minute is up. Far from being invincible, the track is riddled with flaws; the music is trite and jejune, while the vocals sound uncharacteristically thin and weak. “Break of Dawn” is harmless fluff, a love song that makes up for what it lacks in chutzpah with a tender sweetness. “Heaven Can Wait” possesses more interesting and touching lyrics, yet fails to capture its audience with its slow pace...
...Lark,” then offered Liszt’s “Rigoletto” paraphrase of Verdi. Both demonstrated the utmost in fluidity and lyricism—in Kissin’s hands, the hideously difficult becomes the sublimely simple, even if the material is third-rate fluff. Scriabin’s D-sharp minor Étude (Op. 8, #12) was next (a nod to Horowitz), followed by an arrangement of waltzes from Johann Strauss’ Die Fledermaus—again, breathtakingly impressive. Still, I can’t help but wonder how much more enjoyable...