Posts Tagged ‘Matthew McConaughey’

Bootleg City: Matthew McConaughey’s Favorite Songs of the Late ’90s

Hey, y’all. Matthew McConaughey here, fillin’ in for Mr. Mayor of Bootleg City this week. Cassanova gave me a jingle-jangle the other day and said, “Matty Mac, do me a solid and make a celebrity cameo in the BLC this week so I can cut out early for Labor Day. Surf, sand, sun, and sobriety — I’m all over it this weekend. Except for that last part, brother, knowwhatI’msayin’? Hahaha! Cool. Later.” (I did use the words “Labor Day.” The rest is from the mind of Matthew. —Ed.)

Hard to believe it’s been over a year since I last talked to y’all on Popdoze so Bobby C. could have another week off. I’m a big fan of Sugar Water (Stop it, you’re embarrassing me! —Ed.), so I was sad to see it move from entree to after-dinner mint on Bobby’s menu when he became mayor of Bootleg City last fall. But we all have to make sacrifices when we take on new responsibilities, don’t we?

Take me, for example — my son, Levi, is almost 14 months old. Can y’all believe that? Crazy. I can’t even remember life before he was born. Part of that’s because of the weed, but life really does change once you’re a daddy. And my wife, Camila, is expecting our second one by the end of the year.

Whoa, did I just say “wife”? Back up, y’all — that was a slip of the tongue. Camila’s my partner. My main squeeze. My colleague in baby raisin’. But not my wife. Neither of us are into that right now. Maybe one day, but we’re not like normal people — we don’t need the tax breaks, know what I mean? When you’re rich, money has no effect on love.

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How Bad Can It Be?: Mishka

So I’m eating pork rinds naked at my computer, idly wiping my greasy hands on my thighs while the dog slouches in a corner licking her chops, and I come across an e-mail invitation to a CD release party to celebrate the launch of Matthew McConaughey’s new record label.

I’ll pause for a moment to let the full horror of that image sink in: Matthew McConaughey has his own record label.

Matthew McConaughey, that handsome devil whose film career gives new meaning to the word “underperform.” Looking back over his résumé, I’m surprised to note how many good movies he’s made (at least one of them—John Sayles’ Lone Star—genuinely great). The thing is, I completely forgot he was in any of them. What comes to mind, thinking about the guy, is a string of financial or artistic debacles (Amistad, The Newton Boys, Sahara); his terrible performance (and wardrobe) in Contact; the dead-eyed sleepwalking through interchangeable rom-coms. When Failure to Launch opened, you could be forgiven for thinking that it was a documentary about McConaughey’s career arc.

Remember, this was a dude who, after his breakthrough performance in Dazed and Confused, was touted as a New Leading Man. His rugged good looks and laid-back charm drew comparisons to the titans of Old Hollywood—Gary Cooper, Clark Gable, Cary Grant. Instead, he’s turned out to be something of a John Agar: a working actor, name above the title, sure, but not someone who can “open” a movie on his own. So what the hell happened? How did this guy, who at one point looked like a worldbeater, begin his slow slide to mediocrity? Well, listen—I’m not one to tell anybody how they should get their kicks, but let’s face it: Matthew McConaughey smokes a fuckload of pot. Now, call me crazy, but I’m thinking that might have something to do with it. Still a handsome cat, mind you, but he’s starting to get a little… resinous.

Now, when you’ve got that much THC in your system, your decision-making skills are bound to be impaired. You might even forget where you are; McConaughey seems to think he’s still living in the pre-Napster 1990s, when record labels were still remotely relevant and every celebrity was expected to have his own. (He’s also got a clothing line, which is a slightly more ’00s-era business model.)

Okay, we can argue the wisdom of that later; but what about the music? Who has been signed to j.k. livin’ Records? What undercelebrated artist will be the first to benefit from the marketing muscle of Matthew McConaughey’s name recognition factor? (more…)

DVD Review: “Surfer, Dude”

The tagline for Matthew McConaughey’s latest film is “Love and waves, that’s what we need in these dark days.” Finally, a movie star who isn’t afraid to tackle the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression! Well, not exactly — Surfer, Dude quietly made its way into theaters in early September, after Hollywood’s tidal wave of summer blockbusters had receded but before the events of September 14 wiped out all hope that the current economic recession would ebb anytime soon. (By the by, how come it’s called a recession if it hits average Americans like a hurricane?) After three weeks in a grand total of 69 theaters, Surfer, Dude’s total box-office gross was $52,132, which probably didn’t leave McConaughey or his filmmaker bros feeling too stoked.

A limited release in 69 theaters for a foreign film or a documentary is one thing, but a microscopic release like that for a Matthew McConaughey stoner comedy is something else. Speaking of documentaries, Surfer, Dude was directed by S.R. Bindler, who helmed the documentary Hands on a Hard Body in 1997 but has no other directing credits listed on IMDB between then and 2008. McConaughey’s production company, j.k. livin, helped produce Hands on a Hard Body and has its hands all over Surfer, Dude, and according to McConaughey in the behind-the-scenes featurette included on the DVD, he’s known Bindler since they were 15. Bindler, why didn’t you just let Matthew cheat off you in high school? Now you’re going to be under his thumb for the rest of your life.

McConaughey says in the featurette that making Surfer, Dude was “the most fulfilling, creative experience I’ve ever had.” Shooting a movie in Malibu with your friends does sound like a nice way to spend 28 days in the spring, but whatever fulfillment McConaughey got out of the experience doesn’t translate to the screen. Surfer, Dude is a comedy, but it isn’t funny. Unless you’re high, I guess. Since the film was shot for only $6 million, I wouldn’t be surprised if pro-hemp costars Woody Harrelson and Willie Nelson were paid in weed. (In lieu of weed or cash, Scott Glenn accepted teeth. Judging by his smile, you can never have too many.)

For the most part Surfer, Dude just sits there on the screen for 85 minutes waiting for a wave of laughter or excitement to arrive, much like its hero, Steve Addington (McConaughey), a superstar “soul surfer” who returns to his Malibu home for the summer only to find that the waves have suddenly disappeared. (To qualify as a soul surfer, you must renounce all cell phones, you can only watch your old surfing highlights on Super-8 film, and your hair-restoration medicine must be totally organic. Oh, and it helps if you have a surfing double for your surfing scenes, of which Surfer, Dude has precious few.) He gives up pot and sex, hoping to appease the gods of surfing, but nothing works. Without waves, Addington is adrift.

Meanwhile, a former surfer named Eddie Zarno (Jeffrey Nordling), who’s now a reality TV and video game producer, has taken over Addington’s sponsorship contracts and wants him to be part of his Real World-type reality show starring the world’s top surfers. He also wants Addington to lend his longboard skills to a virtual-reality game called Free Surfer. (You know he’s a jerk from the get-go because his name starts with a Z. Kneel before Zarno …) Addington just wants to surf and refuses to be a part of Zarno’s projects, but once the sleazebag cuts off his credit flow, Addington becomes desperate, especially with no waves in sight.

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Sugar Water: Celebrity Soapbox!

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Bad news, everybody — my girlfriend, Aimiee, and I are still on that steamship we boarded in China two weeks ago. You know the phrase “slow boat to China”? Well, it turns out the boats from China aren’t any faster. Internet service is spotty here at sea, not to mention it feels like there are always a billion people waiting in line behind me to use the ship’s one public computer, so publishing a new column last week became impossible.

But during my five allotted minutes on the computer last Saturday, I read that movie star Matthew McConaughey was appearing on CNN’s House Call to discuss parenting with the show’s host, Dr. Sanjay Gupta. Matthew’s been a father for less than two months, but if CNN’s treating him like an authority on the subject, then he must really know his stuff! I figured he must know a lot about all kinds of stuff and would probably love a forum in which he could discuss his various interests and philosophies. I got in touch with his agent, and the next day I received an e-mail from Matthew himself: “One question, Cassanova — would you like salt with that ‘rita?”

Wow! When I read that I thought, “Matthew’s going to write a no-holds-barred political column.” But then I started to wonder if he was going to send me an actual margarita in the mail. Either way, I was excited. So, without further ado, here he is, guest columnist Matthew McConaughey …

Hey, how y’all doin’? Everybody have a good summer? I hope so. Hard to believe it’s almost over, huh? I’m like, “Whoa, summer, you leavin’ already? You just got here. C’mon, sit down and stay a while. Have some guac. Lemme get you a Corona.”

Y’all ever do that? Talk to inanimate objects? Or seasons? Or feelings? I do that a lot. Keeps me one with nature and the infinite, which is important, because we’re all gonna be dust in the wind one day. I’m not tryin’ to be a downer or nothing, but it’s true. Make the most of what you have right now, y’all. But in the meantime, just keep livin’. That’s my motto, but if y’all read People or Us, y’all probably knew that already.

Livin’ isn’t as carefree as it used to be, though. I’m a daddy now, and that’s a full-time J-O-B. Just ask my son’s nanny. Hahaha! Naw, I’m just playin’ with you. Well, sort of — Levi does have a nanny, but she’s only on call 16 hours a day. But she lives in the guest house, so it’s good that she’s close by whenever my girlfriend, Camila, and I are sunbathin’ and need someone to reapply Levi’s tannin’ lotion. It’s never too early to start worshippin’ the sun, y’all.

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