Again! Again!

Remember over ten years ago when Hugh Jackman was all sexy and clawed and beardy in that first X-Men movie and the sequels preceding it. And that total mess X-Men Origins: Wolverine that came out two years ago? You probably thought you'd seen the end of that franchise.

However Perez Hilton confirmed today that the possibility of X-Men movies 4 & 5 are in talks. You may be wondering to yourself, why on earth Fox would resurrect a film series when it's been five years since the last in the series and the actors sure ain't getting any younger.

I'm pretty sure it's cause they're plum out of ideas. This theory is fueled by a number of other productions in the works. Over and over, creative risks are forsaken for unnecessary sequels and revamps of superhero franchises that came out less than ten years ago.

Superman: Man of Steel is set for release in next year, following 2006's Superman Returns. This time, Zack Snyder, genius behind such classics as 300 and Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole (of 30 Rock fame) is set to direct up-and-comer Henry Cavill as Clark Kent opposite Amy Adams who happens to be almost ten years his senior as Lois Lane.

500 Days of Summer director Marc Webb's The Amazing Spider-Man is also due out in 2012, written by the same folks who brought you the last batch of Spiderman films, the last one having been released in 2007. I'm pretty sure Tobey McGuire and Kirstin Dunst's famous upside down kiss is still fresh enough in our minds that this is completely gratuitous. Plus, really?? Recycling screenwriters?

All this is nothing but more evidence that the industry's getting sloppy. Earlier this month saw the theatrical release of Limitless, a Bradley Cooper vehicle about a man who takes pills that enhance his performance at... EVERYTHING. From watching the trailer it's not hard to figure the producers and screenwriters were supplied with a fair amount of coke in that pitch meeting.

Really, where have the good writers gone?

Glee Swallows More Than It Can Chew

 "Sexy" is the title of this week's episode of Glee, that incessant show with a bunch of twenty something musical theater actors playing high school kids and churning out autotune-heavy, Kidz Boppy covers of, erm, every number one song of the century (and making the number one themselves).

After last week's lesson on the dangers of teenage drinking, this week they tackled SEX! "Oh no, this is really scandalous stuff, and for a show about high school. So let's be preachy about it," These are the words I imagine must have been uttered in the writers' room before these teleplays were born.

The main flaw of this episode however is not the actual treatment of the topic, which is questionable sure, but the sheer overload of plot lines and sex-related issues crammed into a single episode. Gwyneth Paltrow came back to guest star, and both advocated sex ed and decided that she herself was ready for a real relationship, as she put it, one that lasts more than 36 hours. Guidance counselor Emma promoted abstinence; both at school and at home where apparently she remained a 30 year old virgin after 4 months of marriage. Her husband took her to Gwynnie to get sex advice.

What else? Oh, all the kids didn't know jack about sex, resident mega-ditz Britney still thought babies were delivered by storks. And to throw in some sexual identity issues, bitchy cheerleader Santana lezzed out and confessed her love for Britney. Huh. Kurt's friend/crush tried to tell him bout the birds and bees but Kurt acted like a 5 year old so friend/crush urged Kurt's dad to give him the talk. Aww father/gay son bonding. There was some discussion of how there's no discussion of gay sex.

Kurt's Glee club tried to sex up their routine for regionals which is a week away but nobody cares because teenagers are getting preggers. There were constant plugs for protection because we gots to avoid childrens getting knocked up and also STDs like HIV.

In a confusing train of plot, faux-hock bad boy Puck and his goth-ish booty call were going to make a sex tape until Gwyneth told them that's child porn and it's all like "oh, wow, I keep forgetting they're sposed to be under eighteen."

Puck and the girl also joined the celibacy club, because... it was unclear and I don't care. I think it was another of his half ass attempts to repent his bad boy ways. Just quit already Puck, you know breaking the rules is all you got going for you.

And Quinn got a hickey from Finn but oh-so-cleverly claimed she burned herself with a curling iron.

Ok Glee we get it. America sucks at sex ed and you're trying to do the job schools and parents across the country are failing at.

Surprisingly, there was no mention of masturbation, the most widespread teen sex ever. Nobody on TV seems to like this topic, it seems to lead to squirms rather than sex appeal and we all know which one of those gets ratings.

Just Keep Dancing

It's looking more and more like Britney Spears is poised for an actual comeback. "Till the world ends," the second single from her upcoming album Femme Fatal, was released Friday (and leaked Thursday) and the 4 minute pop song is Britney at her best.

This may have something to do with the fact that Ke$ha wrote it (incorporating her signature playful crudeness), along with producers Dr. Luke and Max Martin, responsible for the beat that makes "Hold It Against Me" (an otherwise lackluster single with Britney's typical contrived lyrics whose appeal rely solely on a pun. See "If You Seek Amy").




There's nothing original about the content of "Till The World Ends." Dancing and promiscuity in clubs  are the main theme in half of today's pop music. In November's release "Who's That Chick?" (not to be confused with "What's My Name?"), Rihanna sings "I just wanna dance/ I don't really care." Then of course there's Lady Gaga's "Just Dance" and "Telephone." And Usher's lyrics in "DJ Got Us Falling In Love" are pretty close to Britney's when he sings "so dance, dance like it's the last, last night of your life, life"

Britney has always been superbly generic- her voice is nothing special even with autotune and her lyrics are bland and indistinctive as are her melodies which are lucky to be catchy (and other times they're just irritating like "Circus").

But it's not as though the singer is responsible for her product. In fact, Britney Spears is the prime example of industry exploitation. At this point in her life, she's released a smattering of albums of varying quality, been through a couple divorces, popped out a couple kids, had multiple widely publicized nervous breaks and at the end of this year she turns thirty. The poor woman really deserves a hit album.

iTunes calls Britney's songs "bachelorette-party anthems" and I don't think they're wrong. Let's hope this album continues to make for great dance music seeing as, for Britney, that's a triumph.

What I like about "Till The World Ends" is that it abandons any notion of sentimentality ("Lucky") and doesn't try to be clever, or overly sexed up ("3") nor does it try for female empowerment ("Womanizer"). Instead, this song is exactly what it appears to be: something to sing along to in a swirl of alcohol and the lights flashing across a dance floor.