'Could I Interest You in Hours of Fun?'

Last December, I set seeing Morrissey in concert as my lone New Year's Resolution. Sadly, timing and a lack of funds preventing me from seeing Morrissey at either of his LA shows this past March, first at the enormous Staples Center and then at the comparably cozy Hollywood High School auditorium. With his recent talk of retirement and spate of health issues, I figured I'd forever lost my chance to go to a Morrissey concert.

I got a second chance of sorts last night thanks to the concert film "Morrissey 25: Live," which will be released on DVD in October and was shown in theaters for one night only. The film captures the Hollywood High show and I wondered how many of the faithful gathered in the theater with me last night were there back in March, one of the 2,500 lucky fans who snagged tickets during that very brief on-sale window.

I know that going to a Morrissey concert is a special experience full of pomp and ritual. This knowledge both intrigued and intimidated me. Would I stand out when I didn't do that thing at that moment in that song? Would I miss a joke or important moment because I was a first-timer, an observer, and not part of that tribe?

I don't think that Morrissey fans are unfriendly or unwelcoming; I just understand that it can be difficult for an insider to explain the rituals and traditions to an outsider. I also respect the culture their love for the music and the man has created. I went to a Phish concert a few years ago and though the music was great and the fans were so warm, I left early because I didn't belong, I didn't know what to do at the certain moments when everyone else seemed to know exactly what to do, and that's part of experience.

Being one of those people, the super-fan, the nerd, is damn fun. I adore that rush of recognition at a U2 show when Edge plays for milliseconds and I know exactly what's coming next. My friend and I are in a (hopefully) never-ending text conversation populated entirely by lines from our favorite movies and TV shows. I blocked out the weekend as soon as this fall's CommuniCon was announced. I can trace the relationships between the characters in Kevin Smith's Askewniverse and did appreciate that "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" felt like it was made just for me, and the other fans out there like me.

My own experiences being one of those people help draw me to other über-fans—I want to play in their sandbox, too. It's so effortless dealing with people who speak your same language, who know the customs and celebrate the same holidays. It makes perfect sense to me that Simon Pegg and Nick Frost built a 20-year-plus friendship on a "Star Wars" reference, that of course they'd know "that's my kind of guy" based on a little only the two of them understood.

Even though I didn't know all the songs and wasn't primed for all the applause lines in Morrissey's show, I did appreciate the excitement, the dedication, the passion his fans are so eager to express. As Abed said on "Community" (and I quoted when I wrote about the first CommuniCon), "I guess I just like liking things," though in the case of Morrissey fans (and the rest of us who are diehards for whatever else) I guess they just love loving things, their man in particular, and I was happy to sit on the sidelines last night and just be an observer.

John Mayer and His Travelling Band at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre

During his show on Saturday night in Irvine, John Mayer took several opportunities to thank the audience for showing up, for braving the traffic (which actually wasn't bad), for being patient over the last three years as he regained his voice, for "defending me to your friends over drinks," and for general love and support.

Deserved or not, John Mayer does attract negative attention. He's a punch line. He's a tabloid headline. He talks too much. He dates too much. He's too much.

If it wasn't for the music, maybe I would feel the same way, but for the past 12 years, I have had the music and that's why I'm a fan. "Why Georgia?" got me to buy "Room for Squares," and ever since, I've eagerly counted down to the release of each new album, including "Paradise Valley," coming Aug. 20. All those songs are what got to me to read the interviews, follow his blogs and go to the shows (seven to date).

Saturday's show heavily featured songs from last year's "Born and Raised" and the soon-to-be-released "Paradise Valley," songs with an open, easy, strum-around-the-campfire feel. Older songs "Half of My Heart" and "Who Says" were reworked, sped up, clanging, thumping.

For the first time, I sat through a John Mayer concert, partially in deference to the other people in my section and partially because it just felt right to relax and listen.

I'm going to John Mayer's show at the Hollywood Bowl in October. Maybe I'll dance, maybe I'll sit, maybe the set list will rock harder, maybe it will be mellower. Regardless, I know I'll be happy to be in the room, listening to the words, listening to the music, singing along.

Saturday night's set list:

Queen of California
Paper Doll
I Don't Trust Myself
Fool to Love You
Something Like Olivia
Half of My Heart
Vultures
LA Song (In Your Atmosphere)
Free Fallin'
Wildfire
Goin' Down the Road Feeling Bad
Love Is a Verb
Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
Waiting on the World to Change
If I Ever Get Around to Living
Who Says
They Call Me the Breeze
Born and Raised
Age of Worry
Gravity
Face to Call Home
Let My Love Open the Door

'Let's Be Outspoken, Let's Be Ridiculous, Let's Solve the World's Problems'

I've been waiting months to see "Before Midnight," so excited that Julie Delpy, Ethan Hawke and Richard Linklater were ready to share another chapter in the now-decades-long story of Jesse and Celine. The movie went into wide release today and I went this afternoon, and walked out.

I haven't walked out of many movies, I've actually sat through some really terrible movies, but a few minutes into the epic third-act hotel fight scene, I couldn't stand it anymore and left the theater. I understand that "Before Midnight," and the two movies that preceded it, are about two people talking every aspect of life and relationships nearly to death, but I didn't care enough about these two people, their fights and their circumstances to stick around.

I'm a member of Generation X, we're navel-gazers, we over-analyze and over-share. It started in the confessionals on the first seasons of "The Real World" and has found its way into social media, our need to tell everyone who we are, how we feel, what we're thinking about. That compulsion has lead to some great art and important revelations, but today, in that movie theater, it was just annoying. As the small child told his warring parents in the commercial for Dr. Marvin Monroe's therapy practice on "The Simpsons," "Why don't you both shut up?!"

Jesse and Celine are awful people, or at least at a point in their lives where they're acting awfully. I couldn't pick a side; I had no one to root for because they were both so selfish and ridiculous. Even when they're not fighting, they're constantly picking at each other. Why should I care if their relationship falls apart when I don't even understand why they're in a relationship in the first place?

The hook of these three movies is that the audience wants to know what happens to Jesse and Celine. Did they meet six months later? Did they spend the night together? I wanted to know the answers to those questions, but I've lost interest in the answers to any new questions posed by "Before Midnight."

Well Worth the Wait

I've been making my way through some TV-on-DVD sets this past week—"Daria," "Undeclared" and, currently, "Parker Lewis Can't Lose." The kind of marathon viewing DVDs make possible sparks nostalgia, taking me back to who I was and what the world was when I first watched these shows (The house shirts! The combat boots! The answering machines!).

Going through episode after episode, I also started missing the old way we watched TV, having to wait a week or longer between episodes, the tension building over how cliffhangers would be resolved, our relationships with characters deepening as we spent months or years with them. Now being able to watch an entire season in one day, that payoff is gone.

Because I watched these three series (and the others I own on DVD), live on TV the first time around, I remember the waiting, the wondering, so major plot developments, like Lizzie and Steven getting together on "Undeclared," are less jarring because I remember it taking a few weeks to build as opposed to just a few minutes.

With Netflix releasing every episode of the new season of "Arrested Development" in one chunk for fans to devour in one sitting or savor over the course of several days, as opposed to being parsed out over several weeks or months in a traditional TV schedule, I wonder if our viewing experience is being diminished. I do enjoy marathon viewing of shows I've already seen but am not sure if I could develop the same intense appreciation for a show I've only seen on DVD as I have for the shows like "Daria," "Gilmore Girls" and "Parks & Recreation" because I invested months of viewing in each.

I used to get so impatient waiting through a six-week hiatus for my favorite shows, anxious to know how the conflicts would resolve. Even when having to wade through the frustrations of pre-empting and schedule swaps, the payoff of a brand-new episode usually made it worth the while. If the waiting is erased and time invested lessened, will our relationships with our favorite shows and characters weaken? Will we even have favorite shows anymore? Or will all shows, episodes, characters, plots and settings be mashed together as more bits of the endless stream of content flowing at us?

'Now a Major Motion Picture!'

I don't remember what movie I went to see, but last fall I saw the trailer for "Anna Karenina." It was stunning, the clothes, the sets of the play-within-the-film, the romance, the tragedy. I had to see it.

I missed the movie in theaters, finally catching it a few months ago on-demand after excitedly reading the book, which I enjoyed far more than I thought I would. My affection for the book matched with the impression left by the movie's trailer, I was prepared to be blown away.

I wasn't.

"Anna Karenina" is a big book with a half-dozen main characters leading paralleling and intersecting story lines. A two-hour-and-10-minute movie couldn't do the book justice. Too much had to be left out, left unsaid, implied or overly expositioned. Like most film adaptations, "Anna Karenina" was a mess and a disappointment.

I've read many hundreds of books in my life. Reading is one of my favorite activities and this year, thanks to the extra time I now have on my hands, I've indulged. I've read memoirs, classics (including the aforementioned "Anna Karenina"), essay collections, fiction, nonfiction. I've bought stacks of books, borrowed a few, made lists of what I want to read next. It's been a fantastic excursion.

Though I read it in high school (like so many of us), I used the release of the new film adaptation, and the recent reading of Hemingway's "A Moveable Feast," with its somewhat cutting descriptions of the man and his muse, as excuses to re-read Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby." It's a really short book, less than 200 pages, so I read it in about two days with the hope of doing something I haven't done in ages—seeing the movie on opening day.

The new Baz Luhrmann adaptation of "The Great Gatsby" has built an insane amount of buzz and garnered really terrible reviews. I've followed some of the buzz (The Clothes! The Jewels! Leo! Carey!) and taken the reviews with a grain of salt. I like Lurhmann's films, his style, the work of his production designer/costume designer/production partner/wife Catherine Martin, and felt like I knew what I was in for and would enjoy the experience regardless.

I wanted to, I really did. I just couldn't.

The problem isn't the direction, the acting, the costumes, the sets, the music, the 3-D, the various tricks and bells and whistles. The problem is this is a film adaptation of a much-loved, much-analyzed, must-scrutinized book; a book that's existed in the hearts and minds of millions of readers for nearly 100 years; a book that, like most books, shouldn't be a movie.

Leaving the movie theater, I tried to think of good adaptations. The "Harry Potter" series came to mind, but even those compressed too much, left out too much, quickly explained away too much. "The Joy Luck Club" may be the best but maybe that's because Amy Tan's writing style feels so verbal that it was just easier to transfer it from the page to the screen.

Film adaptations of my beloved Hemingway's classics have been terrible. The voiceover opening to "The Sun Also Rises" made me laugh out loud. Casting in "For Whom the Bell Tolls" and "The Old Man and the Sea" was horrid. So many great characters, so much beautiful language, the tension, the struggles, all completely flat on the screen.

It's become so cliché, but Hollywood does have few new ideas, so of course studios are going to keep buying the rights to adapt popular books. As has been proven far too many times in the past, the great majority of those adaptations are going to be terrible. Like Gatsby building his fortune to win Daisy's love, the studios will forge ahead with their adaptations, even if it's a lost cause.

'I Guess I Just Like Liking Things'

There was a new episode of "Community" tonight. After months of waiting, of dropped bombs and delayed debuts, it feels fantastic knowing that brand-new Greendale 7 adventures exist.

Being a (sometimes-obsessive) fan of a beautiful array of television shows and bands, I've come to realize that many people just don't understand the joy brought by the promise of a new television episode or album. They don't quote lines or memorize facts or run their own scenarios. They just watch or listen and then move on.

Luckily, diehard fans have always found ways to gather and share their obsessions. The internet has made this so easy, just a few keystrokes and you can find a discussion thread or entire forum dedicated to pretty much any piece of pop culture ever generated. The wonders of technology!

What's been exciting for me is when those discussions move offline, when fans get the opportunity to gather in the real world to celebrate their shared love. That happened this past weekend at CommuniCon, a celebration of the television show by fans and for fans.

The event was held at LA City College, which was used for many exterior shots during "Community's" first season. It featured a writers' panel, supporting actors' panel ("No Small Parts"), Q&A with show creator Dan Harmon ("Dan Harmon and a Microphone"), costume contest, art show and fan testimonials.

I volunteered at the event, working the registration table as participants in the "No Small Parts" panel were arriving. "Black Hitler" (actor Brisco Diggs) was joking around with everyone. The elevator opened and there was Vicki (actress Danielle Kaplowitz). Up the stairs came Quendra with a Qu (actress Marcy McCusker). Next came Garrett (actor Erik Charles Nielsen), followed soon by Neil (actor Charley Koontz) and Todd (actor David Neher, who's also fantastic as Benjamin on "New Girl"). They were swarmed, people screamed when they saw the actors, got pictures and autographs.

Dan Harmon got a standing ovation when he arrived and was visibly moved. Yvette Nicole Brown and Gillian Jacobs made surprise appearances, causing even more excitement. Throughout the day, with each new story, bit of trivia and guest appearance, the love for the show, from its fans and creators, grew.

I didn't get any autographs or a picture with any of the panelists, but I did get my own piece of "Community" to cherish, an Arizona Matchbook Company matchbook that was created for the "Competitive Ecology" episode. I'm a fan of production design, all the work it takes to create the pieces big and small necessary to the worlds my favorite shows and movies exist within, so this was the perfect souvenir.

During his talk, Dan Harmon asked fans to keep holding conventions and promised he'd keep showing up. When the show ends (which could be as soon as this spring), it's good to know the spirit of "Community" will live on. You can read more about the event in this article from The Occidental Weekly.

For more information on CommuiCon, including a link to a video of "Dan Harmon and a Microphone," click here.

More of my pictures from Saturday are below:

'I Hated Sam & Diane'

During last year's PaleyFest panel for "New Girl," the panelists were asked about Jess and Nick's developing relationship. The moderator asked the audience if they'd like to see the two coupled up and the theater erupted in cheers and applause.

I didn't join in the applause. In fact, I think I was the only person in the room whose response to the question was an emphatic "No!" On Tuesday's episode, Nick kissed Jess. The moment had been building over the last few episodes so I knew it was coming. When it happened, though, I cringed a bit.

As I wrote nearly two years ago when Leslie and Ben finally kissed on "Parks & Recreation," I'm generally not a fan of the will-they-or-won't-they storyline. I find it forced and predictable—a woman and man spend any amount of time together so, of course, there has to be this huge build up of feelings.

I choose to believe not. Maybe it's my naïveté, but I don't think that every female/male relationship rides on a current of sexual tension just waiting to swell up and overtake everybody. I think friendships can develop into romantic relationships or stay as friendships, but believe, no matter how common television and movies try to tell us it is, that friends don't continually spiral toward and away from each other, not completely understanding the true depths of their feelings and driving everyone around them absolutely insane.

Despite my problems with this plotline, other fans seem to eat this stuff up, as evidenced both by the number of shows that follow this path (EW.com did a gallery of favorite will-they-or-won't-they couples here) and the super-swoony comments that followed Tuesday's "New Girl." I'd prefer more shows to explore the idea of women and men being friends, mentors/protégés or colleagues, such as has happened on "30 Rock" with Liz and Jack, "Parks & Recreation" with Leslie and Ron, and "The Mindy Project" with Mindy and Danny (please, please, please leave them as friends), but know I'll probably have to suffer through more friends dealing with unexpressed romantic tension on television and in movies.

Blerg.