Word: sternly
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...Howard Stern is a more complicated, sometimes troubling persona. "What I like about the movie," he says, "is that it shows that. There are issues in my life. I don't think you'll walk out saying, 'Hey, what a great guy!' You get an accurate portrayal of who I am." Who knew that could be something more than just morbidly fascinating...
This side of Stern is certainly not hidden in Private Parts, which is a comparatively straightforward telling of his struggle to succeed in broadcasting. Stern likens the film to Rocky and claims preview audiences have said Private Parts will inspire them to "follow their dreams," a reaction even Stern thinks is a bit much. But the movie shows him in a surprisingly earnest, at times sweet light; indeed, a couple of romantic scenes are so borderline sappy one wonders if Stern fears he has left himself open to being laughed at, as opposed to with (a humorist's worst nightmare...
That, of course, is the essence of his appeal on radio. But the essence of film acting is demanding to be loved; Stern, with an occasional puppy-dog mope onscreen, shows himself willing to grovel for his new medium. "I was full of bravado when I first got into this," says Stern, who had never acted before, at least in the Stella Adler sense. "I was going, 'Oh, these actors are a______s, and it's so easy." Nevertheless, he panicked on the first day of shooting, begging to improvise his part in a more radio-like fashion before finally...
This has to be considered a love story: Howard Stern says, "I love you, Alison" even more often than "penis." The mostly genial Private Parts, written by Len Blum and Michael Kalesniko and directed, with more style and verve than absolutely necessary, by Betty Thomas, is like Stern's radio show: self-obsessed, paranoiac, very funny and way too long...
...best in its first half, when Stern, looking like a taller Weird Al Yankovic with his geeky posture, vulture profile and Isro hairdo, plays the familiar failure--a disappointment to his parents and bosses. Only his wife Alison (Mary McCormack from TV's Murder One) sees that this guy has star potential if he'd just be his horny self on the air. Howard gets to rant, vomit, expose his cellulite buttocks, flaunt the cinema's all-time-funniest erection and defame Don Imus and the WNBC brass. It's get-even time for the guy they called Howeird...