Westeros in West Midtown: Game Of Thrones: The Exhibition

By Maureen

I knew that I would have to wait in line for Game Of Thrones: The Exhibition. It came to New York City for only five days amidst a five-city world tour to promote the show before season three’s premiere. I knew it would be crowded, and I knew it would probably end up taking a whole day to look at half an hour’s worth of an exhibit. I was right about all of these things.

What I didn’t anticipate, however, was how worth it that would all be. I got there about 1:45 p.m. on Friday, and was let into the exhibit at about 4:45 p.m. During the wait, staff members of the exhibit walked up and down the line shouting out trivia questions, and my boyfriend won a pen light by answering “what song is used to convey the message ‘don’t mess with the Lannisters’?” Mostly, though, we were just reading/playing games on various devices.

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Great Scot (regardless of the critics): Why I’m Into Brave

By Maureen

Brave silkscreen print from Dark Ink
Comic-Con 2012 Exclusive

Here’s what I know: I saw Brave on its opening night and enjoyed the hell out of it. My boyfriend and I were in a theater full to the max with a good mix of children and their parents and groups of people both our age (27 and 29, respectively) and teenagers. We had a great time. Everyone was a-buzz leaving the theater, both about the film and about other Disney/Pixar endeavors.

Here’s what I don’t know: why everyone on the Internet suddenly seems to have issues with this adorable film. (more…)

Rock Me, Shock Me? Musings On Rock Of Ages

By Maureen

Two things most people figure out about me very soon after meeting me are that I love classic rock music and I love musicals. So, naturally, when I started seeing teaser trailers and leaked studio stills from a big-screen adaptation of Rock Of Ages, I was theoretically psyched. Guns ‘N Roses, Poison, Bon Jovi, and more, streaming out of the big screen? Sign me up!
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Those Crazy (?) Canadian Kids: A Grudging Appreciation Of Degrassi

By Maureen

I can’t believe I even suggested I write this. I don’t watch Degrassi. I don’t care about Degrassi. I am too old and too not-Canadian to have grown up with it and find it endearing. I openly mock it and still remind everyone Drake was once Aubrey Graham.

Manny Santos hugs her mom

That said, my friends did go through a post-college, pre-full time employment period of watching the shit out of Degrassi. During the marathons I unwittingly experienced, there was one thing I noticed that I did find impressive.
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Fabulously Frustrating: Gay Stereotypes On TV

By Maureen

It’s 2012. Many states, including my home state of New York, have legalized same-sex marriage. So why does it seem like every portrayal of a gay person or a gay relationship on TV right now seems to fit into one of two main stereotypes? I feel like I’m taking crazy pills every time a major movement in the field of equal rights happens, and no one seems to tell the television universe.
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Misterman, With Cillian Murphy

By Maureen

Let me just get this disclaimer out of the way: I fucking love Cillian Murphy. I would crawl through a river of shit, Andy Dufresne-style, just to listen to him read the phone book. Which, in a twisted and complex way, he kind of does in Enda Walsh’s play Misterman.
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Christmas: A Celebration Of A Birth Marked With Death

By Maureen

Everyone has their favorite holiday classics to sing along to while trimming a tree, wrapping gifts, baking cookies, or traveling to be with loved ones. But has anyone ever stopped to think about what’s actually behind most holiday songs?

One in particular has always struck me as incredibly confusing. “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” is heard all over the world in many different iterations, but the gist is always the same. This is the least-festive holiday song ever! Someone’s grandmother is killed in a freak accident, and their first question is what to do about her presents?! It’s like the Asshole National Anthem. (more…)

Sing It, Sister? An Eve Ensler Comparison

By Maureen

I first read The Vagina Monologues when I was in late adolescence and thought it was brilliant. Eve Ensler’s collection of stories and vignettes made me proud to have a vagina and to know that other women had similar experiences with menstruation, first-time tampon use, annoyance at “feminine itch” commercials, and so much more. I saw a performance of the Monologues at my college during which not only did my recently discovered distant cousin perform a monologue, but one of the professors at my university also simulated a rollicking orgasm.

As a young person just discovering ideas of sexuality and feminism, I was in such awe of Ms. Ensler ad her ability to ask the uncomfortable questions, publish the painful stories, and organize a foundation to help women who don’t have opportunities to be as bold as those of us who don’t live in fear of being stoned to death for mentioning sex or showing skin.
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Everything In Between: The Decemberists

By Maureen

Beacon Theatre, New York NY
January 25, 2011

Click for
larger image.

I have to steal a quote I overheard from a fellow fan at the merchandise table: “I’ve seen them many times, and every time it’s like, totally different.” The Decemberists played a three-show block at the historic Beacon Theatre this January. I attended the “middle” show, which was originally the only show, as the other days were added to accommodate incredible ticket demand. This is my third experience with seeing the band live, throughout more than five years of being a fan. This current “Popes of Pendarvia” Tour follows the release of their newest album The King is Dead.
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When Three Is Neither Company Nor A Crowd: Least Favorite Love Triangles On TV

By Maureen

I’m not a fan of love triangles. I’ve never been involved in one, and neither has anyone I know. The modern television writer, however, seems to think that love triangles are so commonplace a situation that shows feature them frequently. Usually I am able to ignore them, but three particular examples in recent memory come to mind as especially aggravating. In the spirit of the “power of three,” here they are.
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