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Written by: Lake County News Reports

Published: 07 July 2007

Created: 07 July 2007

Last Updated: 07 July 2007

LICENSE TO WED (Rated PG-13)

A reasonable question to ask: whatever happened to the brilliantly manic Robin Williams, sharp-tongued with his acerbic wit? The answer won’t be found in his latest film, “License to Wed,” which serves him up as an oddly creepy minister where his comedic talent is based on his unhinged mental state.

The sign of a weak script is that Williams’ Reverend Frank is often reduced to spouting clichéd double-entendres that are meant to be funny, but more often produce a groan-inducing feeling of discomfort at hearing such words emanate from a man of the cloth. It’s bad enough that the minister is an obnoxious character, but he also has an annoying young assistant (Josh Flitter) who is described as a “minister in training.”

In any event, “License to Wed” isn’t all bad, and that has more to do with the objects of Rev. Frank’s hellish boot camp for young couples on the verge of matrimony.

Sadie (Mandy Moore) and Ben (John Krasinski), both of whom seem kind of innocent and even klutzy, meet in cute fashion at a Starbucks, and after a seemingly too-short period of courtship decide to get married. Coming from an upper class background, Sadie nevertheless appears firmly rooted in reality, which is more than you can say for most of her family. Her divorced sister Lindsey (Christine Taylor) is hopelessly bitter, and her dad (Peter Strauss) is a stiff, pompous windbag who likes the sound of his own voice. The others are mostly alcoholics.

The affable Ben has an Everyman quality about him, as he goes about his normal routine of pleasing Sadie and still hanging out with his best buddy (DeRay Davis), who’s eager to offer advice regardless of its merits. Sadly, Ben will be put to a great test when Sadie decides that for family reasons she wants her wedding to take place in the church where Reverend Frank presides.

However, the wedding can’t take place until Ben and Sadie pass the “wedding class” conducted by the deranged reverend. After just one session, Ben should have had the good sense to call the whole thing off or insist on another venue for the nuptials. But then, Sadie’s family is a bit intimidating.

So the heart of this movie, aside from the inept development of any romantic chemistry, is the increasingly strange tasks to be accomplished in order to secure the Reverend Frank seal of approval. The first rule is an insistence on abstinence, which is oddly enforced by Reverend Frank sending his young henchman on a covert mission to plant a bugging device in the apartment Ben and Sadie share.

To measure compatibility, the minister insists that couples engage in full-blown disputes to see how they reconcile their differences. Then to assess parental skills, Ben and Sadie must care for twin robotic babies who throw tantrums and have bodily functions at the most inopportune moments.

It’s creepy enough that Reverend Frank and his minion are voyeurs spying on the most intimate details of a relationship. The ultimate insanity, however, is when Reverend Frank insists that Sadie drive a car in heavy traffic while blindfolded and with Ben giving directions.

At some point, you can’t help but wonder why the lovebirds don’t simply refuse an absurd assignment. Of course, then the filmmakers would be at an even greater loss on how to salvage a few more laughs from a plot line on an inevitable collision course.

Amidst all the physical humor, sex and bodily function jokes, pratfalls, and even humiliating situations, there are some laughs. “License to Wed” may not always be blissful comedy, but there is some humor in the film even though Robin Williams seems on a mission to undermine some of the comedic elements. Perhaps fitting for a movie using some character actors from TV’s “The Office,” the funniest scene goes to the hapless fellow in the marriage class who’s desperate to save a plate of potato skins.

Tim Riley writes film reviews for Lake County News.

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Details

Written by: Lake County News Reports

Published: 07 July 2007

Created: 07 July 2007

Last Updated: 07 July 2007

I used to know this guy named John Hager. John was your typical frustrated musician-Columbia Records PR guy-songwriter who ran a record/tape store called Ludwig Van Ear in Milwaukee. I worked for him ferreting out the 1,342 ways a teenage boy could steal records or tapes – there were no CDs then – without looking either like he had a flashlight in his pocket or was glad to see someone/anyone.

There were lots of ways to do this and I still like to point out pilfered CDs to modern day frustrated musician-songwriter-record store owners especially if they're on Vanguard's street team.

I should point out that the big record store in Milwaukee in those times of yore was called 1812 Overture. It was run by a concert promoter of whom a then Milwaukee Urinal writer once wrote: "There are two kinds of people in the world ... those who don't like Alan and those who haven't met him yet." Thus, Ludwig Von Ear and maybe even Camper Van Beethoven?

So to get back to my train of free association let me just say of John Hager's songwriting that he wrote at least one embarrassing but ultimately lucrative song, "Bet Your Sweet Bippy, I'm A Hippie." John hated that song but every time a royalty check came in he up and cashed it. Which is why you young whippersnapper indie rockers should hold on to your publishing. Even a song like "Bippy ... Hippie ..." can cover a lot of missing tapes and records and the now even more conveniently sized for stealing, CD.

But enough of John Hager, who I liked very much since he let me go out for hamburgers for the band Chase and carry Kris Kristofferson's guitar after a 24-hour folk concert in Madison, WI which had Earl Scruggs, Linda Ronstadt and the future Eagles, and Dave Von Ronk in it. Maybe I got to carry Kristofferson's guitar 'cause not only can't I remember the 60s, I'm plum rugged on the 70s as well.

Maybe Ty Hager was doing stand up in Tulsa where he is both from and got his start back then as a stand up actor/comedian funny ha ha guy but maybe not yet. You don't think Ty Hager and his music is funny, listen to him sing "Our Boy and Bubba" to Dr. Demento on the good Doc's radio show.

You can do this and more on Hager's myspace.com/tyhagersongs where you can also hear and download four of the warped like a wombat tunes from his soon to be award winning someday CD, "Ty Hager Sings About Life And Girls (But Mostly Girls)." It will hit the big time or should hit the big time soon as Nashville stops kissing Roy Acuff's dead hinder parts and lets Ty play the real, first Ryman and use drums just like the Everly Brothers – Phil and Don, Don and Phil – did way back when when Roy don't allow no time keeping 'round here. Stream of consciousness; that's the words I was looking for.

The four streams of consciousness songs in question here are by Ty Hager and the Hagermen, his take off on William Hung and the Hungmen, only better. They are, in ascending or descending order: "Our Boy and Bubba," "Never Not," "No Habla Spanish Love Song," and Ty Hager's piece de resistance, "Seven Shallow Graves."

In a six foot under sort of a way, "Seven ..." tells the epic tale of the ghost of a Bob Wills type of guy who finds his good gal in his best friend's arms and puts her separate parts in "Seven Shallow Graves." Kids, don't try this with your uncle Ernie. "She was in my arms; She was in my brain; she was in my DNA ... Now, she's in 'Seven Shallow Graves." Yee hah!

"The part close to my heart is by my window in the back yard!" I don't know why but I feel a singalong coming on and all you gots to do is follow the bouncing body parts, the late (we think) Anna Nicole Smith is pointing out with her gold encrusted fingernails, y'all.

I love this guy. I really love him like Sally Fields on the Academy Awards and both his CDs, even the

2003 one, "Funny Ha Ha; Funny Strange," which his manager at Winthrop Records recently sent me along with a big bag full of kinda new Crack The Sky and John Palumbo CDs. I love however many of them there are now.

"Never Not" has yet another catchy singalong chorus: "I'm never not, never not, never not, thinking about you." Then there is "No Habla Spanish Love Song" in which Mr. Ty Hager Songs puts his Tulsa by way of Austin and on up to the bigtime in Nashville moves on Rosalita on the bus.

Seems he took Spanish in high school, but after exhausting that "memory bank," in about five minutes, there were still "six more hours to Kansas." He didn't know "Dust In The Wind" en espanol so it was time for the arm over the shoulder and possibly other body parts. They had "hablad all they could!" I forget the words from that chorus but my one Spanish brain cell does recall the word to yell if you're being pursued by a Mexican vampire down a long staircase. It's "Secorro! Secorro!" Repeat for emphasis and thank you, Senor Pena.

That leaves "Our Boy And Bubba," since I already covered "Seven Shallow Graves." Bubba is black. Ty Hager and his then POSSLQU – U.S. Census term for person of the opposite sex sharing living quarters – had a little baby they named Bubba. But daddy Bubba was POSSLQU's "friend you told me was gay ... You and me is white; Bubba's black; and once you've been with Bubba, you ain't never going back."

Put this man on your iPod. He also wears American Gothic t-shirts a lot which means he could do for Grant Wood what the late Kurt Cobain did for Daniel Johnston. He sent me an email too after his manager told me he did believe Ty Hager and I lived on the same planet. I think it's Tralfalmador where we both hope to locate Montana Wildhack and put her on our respective CDs or music cricket portfolios.

Ty Hager, his music and his new partners in that side project he's working on, The Weisenheimerz, are the best thing since John Prine and Martin Mull sat down on a Martha's Vineyard lawn and sang a duo version of Mr. Mull's blues about a poor rich man.

E-mail Gary Peterson at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

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Written by: Sophie Annan Jensen

Published: 06 July 2007

Created: 06 July 2007

Last Updated: 06 July 2007

Al Gore's “Assault on Reason” is a valuable overview of our political degradation, with its “politics of fear; secrecy, cronyism and blind faith.”

It will be especially valuable for anyone who hasn't kept up with alternative news sources for the last several years, or for those who wonder why the mainstream media gives us so little investigative reporting.

One of the most astute media critics I know is Carl Jensen, Ph.D., the founder of Project Censored, a former reporter, professor emeritus at Sonoma State University (and my former husband). He comments “Gore lays the blame where it rightfully belongs, at the feet of the media, led by the persuasive 30-second television spot. This is a 'must read' for anyone who read 'An Inconvenient Truth' and wants to know how it happened. It's a censored message we haven't heard from the announced candidates for nomination for president.”

Much as I admire Gore's passion for educating us about environmental issues and global climate change, it isn't news that his passion would have been helpful in his presidential campaign.

In more non-news, Gore tells us that corporations have gained too much control over our lives, globalization has its downside, political campaigns have become too expensive and too superficial, and the Internet is a powerful force in media.

The book and I got off to a bad start with the introduction, which has a lot of information about the effects of television on the brain. It's valuable information and has been since Jerry Mander's “Four Arguments For the Elimination of Television” was published in 1977.

Gore has longed for an open Internet and helped start www.currenttv.com, where viewers can post their own videos – and an irreverent lot they are. He writes “The Internet has the potential to revitalize the role played by the people in our constitutional framework.”

Sure. So do the people, in town hall meetings and other face-to-face encounters. Come to think of it,if you'd like some original thinking on most of Gore's topics, why don't you just pick up Mander's books?

• Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (1977)

• In the Absence of the Sacred (1991)

• The Case Against the Global Economy And For a Turn Toward the Local, with Edward Goldsmith (1996)

• Paradigm Wars: Indigenous Peoples' Resistance to Globalization, with Victoria Tauli-Corpuz(2006)

THE ASSAULT ON REASON, by Al Gore. Penguin Press. $25.95

E-mail Sophie Annan Jensen at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

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