STAGE-MOMMIE DEAREST

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

If you’ve ever wondered what ingredients go into creating a Lindsay Lohan or a Britney Spears, check out VH1’s “I Know My Kid’s A Star,” a weekly debacle that’s part talent search, part reality show and full-fledged televised child abuse.

Hosted by ex-“Partridge Family” kid Danny Bonaduce, the series gives 10 pre-teens and their parents the chance to see if they’ve got the right stuff to make it as a child star without becoming regular guests at Hotel Rehab. Each week, a parent-child team is deemed unready for Hollywood and sent home.

To many familiar with his sordid history, Bonaduce mentoring child stars might seem as incongruous as Paris Hilton performing brain surgery, but he actually offers valuable critiques and his own experiences give credence to the cautionary tales he shares.

The show operates under the guise of discovering America’s next “It” boy or girl, but clearly, it’s all about which stage mom can be the biggest, er, witch – a noun I’m tactfully employing in lieu of a more apropos rhyming word that starts with “b.”

Several of the mothers are already savvy at the showbiz game. There’s the B-movie actress who looks like a Whitesnake groupie capable of snorting a pint of Jack Daniels then eating the bottle. Everyone knows someone like her: brash, funny, occasionally crude – a blast at parties, but after 15 minutes, you’re gasping for the air she’s sucked out of the room. Though she means well, her big personality and bigger need for attention eclipses her kid’s limelight. It’s very telling that her daughter, a gorgeous Eliza Dushku in miniature, performs well only when Mom exits stage left.

There’s the ex-Broadway dancer who’d put any pimp to shame as she tries to sell Bonaduce and talent agent Marki Costello on her daughter’s talent – of which we rarely see a glimmer because the child’s always petrified after Mom’s cringe-worthy browbeatings. This poor kid makes Pavlov’s dogs look like free thinkers.

There’s the acting teacher mom, levelheaded and likeable, whose kid is not only a charmer, but hands-down the most talented of the bunch. Naturally, most of the other moms hate her; when they say, “Break a leg,” they mean it literally.

Some of the parents are newbies to the vicious shredding machine that is Hollywood, like the recently eliminated sweetheart of a mom – one of the few “normal” (translation: sane) ones – who agreed with Bonaduce that her meek, polite demeanor would probably hinder her daughter’s career.

Putting this volatile mix of personalities in one big house is clearly a ratings ploy; there’s far more high drama among the moms than onstage where the kids are auditioning. Watching some of these women interact with their kids is more excruciating than slowly peeling off a week-old scab:

“If we get sent home, you’d better not cry!”

“It’s not ‘Romper Room.’ We’re not here to friggin’ play.”

"I’m a single mom. You have to get rich and famous so you can buy me that dream house!”

Blecch … perhaps a better name for the show would be “I Know My Kid’s A Future Tabloid Cover.”

HEROES’ POWERS BECOMING LESS SUPER

Photo: Amazon.com/Geneon [Pioneer] Studios

Illustrations: Captain Planet Foundation, Inc. (http://www.turner.com/planet)

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

A recent game of rock-paper-scissors left me on the losing end of a debate with a friend about what movie to watch. My pick was “Little Miss Sunshine,” but rock crushed scissors, so I was forced to sit through “X-Men,” the first installment of the big-screen trilogy based on the Marvel comic series about a team of superheroes with special powers.

Fortunately, I’m blessed with a special power of my own: The ability to superimpose a movie I really want to watch over the one I’m currently viewing with great disinterest. Magneto as a foul-mouthed grandpa who dies en route to his granddaughter Rogue’s participation in the Little Miss Mutant beauty pageant? Now that’s entertainment!

Though I zoned out during much of the flick, I did learn one thing from “X-Men”: A lot of superheroes have really, really lame powers. Take Jubilee, for instance. She can shoot fireworks from her hands. That’s a mighty neat party trick to unveil at the Fourth of July company picnic, but being full of sparkly goodness won’t make any self-respecting villain quake with fear: “I will now mesmerize you with pretty colors long enough for someone with real powers to show up, MWAHAHAHA!”

Still, Jubilee can thank her lucky, twinkling stars that she’s a walking Roman candle instead of a fountain of touchy-feely emotions like Ma-Ti of the ‘90s cartoon “Captain Planet and the Planeteers.” The youngest of the environment-conscious quintet kept company with Gi, who could control any water source, as well as Kwame, Linka and Wheeler, who boasted the powers of Earth, Wind and Fire (though their costumes weren’t nearly as cool as the R&B band’s).

With the aforementioned elements already spoken for, all that was left for Ma-Ti was the power of Heart. In other words, he’s very, very caring. Don’t get me wrong – I’m all about peace, love and understanding, but empathy ain’t never stopped a speeding bullet. If I were a superhuman fighter of evil, I’d punch my creator’s head down his neck-hole for arming me with “Heart” as a battle weapon. But at least I’d care enough to ask if he was OK afterward.

If this trend toward watered-down superpowers continues, cartoon crusaders could one day be reduced to such dubious “talents” as:

* The power to make dust bunnies multiply.

* The strength to withstand the "curiously strong" tingle of Altoids.

* The ability to steal candy from a baby.

* The endurance to chuck more wood than a woodchuck would if a woodchuck could chuck wood.

* The fortitude to eat just one Lay's potato chip.

* The ability to explode at will … but only once.

* The power to eat ice cream quickly without getting brain freeze.

* The ability to interpret interpretive dance.

* The skill to cut sandwiches into perfectly symmetrical halves.

* The power to get annoying songs stuck in enemies' heads.

When this new breed of hero arrives, I’ll be the first to sign up, since this column has revealed I possess a lethal superpower: The ability to kill time.

WHEN TV WORLDS COLLIDE

Photo: Dayton Daily News

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Come and listen to a story ‘bout a man named Jed, a poor mountaineer, barely kept his family fed. Then one day, he was shootin’ at some food, when Brandon Walsh stepped in and said, “Hold your fire, dude!”

What? That’s not the way the song goes, you say? Well, that’s how it goes in my head – a nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there – where cornpone meets caviar, jalopies park beside Jags, and Ellie Mae dates Dylan McKay.

Imagine if the Clampetts had loaded up their truck and moved to Beverly (Hills, that is), circa 1993, and found themselves in the midst of a teen soap opera that addressed topical issues like alcoholism, domestic violence, gay rights, drug abuse and AIDS. Not exactly the stuff of comedy, but Jed and his kinfolk would change that in no time. “My boy’s takin’ Brenda Walsh to that there fancy shindig over to the high school! Wee doggies!”

Welcome to “Beverly Hillbillies 90210.” Cue banjo music.

Think about it: Granny and Andrea lounging beside the “cee-ment pond” … Ellie Mae in a catfight with Brenda … Mrs. Walsh putting the moves on Jethro … Ellie Mae in a catfight with Kelly … Miss Hathaway putting the moves on David Silver … Ellie Mae in a catfight with Donna.

Considering the lack of originality on TV these days, I think it’s a pretty good idea. If one show can spin off from another, why can’t two shows spin INTO each other? You’d get twice the entertainment in half the viewing time!

If you like your comedy mixed with something harder than teen drama, stay tuned for Freddie Prinze Jr.’s prime-time debut as a fast-talking barrio boy who joins the agents of the United Network Command for Law Enforcement to combat evil and crabby old auto garage owners. “Chico and the Man from U.N.C.L.E.” is must-see TV!

Isaiah Washington battled accusations of homophobia toward former “Grey’s Anatomy” co-star T.R. Knight, but the actors put their differences aside – or rather, use them to their advantage – in the first secret agent adventure series to feature a gay-hetero buddy pairing. Don’t miss “Queer I-Spy for the Straight Guy” … every episode features a car chase and a makeover!

During a trip to New York with Dorothy and Blanche to attend Sophia’s funeral, Rose Nylund is so taken with the Big Apple that she decides to stay. With her new home comes a new job as the personal assistant to the editor of an ultra-hip fashion magazine. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll fall in love with “Ugly Betty White.”

While we’re at it, why not merge TV shows with movies? Coming soon to a pay-per-view-channel near you: “Malcolm X in the Middle,” “The Rocky Balboa and Bullwinkle Show,” “Married … with Children of the Corn” …

I’ve got a million of ‘em, folks. But it’s time for me to pause for a word from my sponsor, so … y’all come back now, ya hear?

THERE'S NO BUSINESS LIKE SNOW BUSINESS

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Oh, the weather last week was frightful and being snowed in was none too delightful. Especially if you happened to be stranded away from home and the comforts therein – your own bed … your own broken-in sofa with your own personal butt groove … your own remote control that you don’t have to steal from your mom while she’s taking a nap.


I spent much of my confinement surfing the tube for a good winter movie, but the closest thing I could find was “Home Alone.” While that light-hearted tale of child neglect indeed takes place during the snowy season, it’s really more of a Christmas flick than a movie in which the weather has a starring role.

Next time a freak snowstorm hits, I’ll be better prepared with a few films to nicely complement my wintry mood:

* “Misery” – You'll think twice about driving in the snow after watching this 1990 thriller. Suddenly, that quick run to Speedway for nachos and a tub o’ soda won’t seem so important.

* “Snow Day” – One free day isn’t enough for the conniving schoolkids in this comedy that’s bound to give young viewers a few ideas, most of them illegal. Any flick featuring Iggy Pop just might be worth the cost of springing Junior from kiddie jail.

* “Cool Runnings” – Four Jamaican bobsledders plus one dream plus 25 below zero equal 98 minutes you don’t have to spend shoveling snow.

* “Groundhog Day” – Think you’ve got it bad? Imagine you’re Bill Murray living through the longest winter ever as Feb. 2 repeats over and over and over. Or worse, imagine being Punxsutawney Phil.

* “Alive” – This is the true story of a Uruguayan rugby team stranded in the Andes after a plane crash and driven to, um, “desperate measures” to survive. This is a movie you can sink your teeth into, an affecting tale that’s bound to eat away at you long after it’s over. Any further plot spoilers would be in, ahem, bad taste.

* “MXP: Most Xtreme Primate” – Best. Snowboarding Monkey. Movie. Ever. Period.

* “March of the Penguins” – Narrated by Morgan Freeman (who also does voiceovers in my head), this documentary follows the annual mating trek of Emperor penguins across the unforgiving Antarctic, where they endure sub-zero temperatures and gale-force blizzards, risking life and wing all in the name of love. Apparently, they’ve never heard of eHarmony.com.

* “Happy Feet” – This animated Oscar-winner takes a light-but-still-educational look at penguin mating rituals and, without becoming heavy-handed, teaches important lessons in accepting each others’ differences. It also teaches us that, even in cartoon form, Robin Williams will shamelessly chew every bit of scenery that crosses his path.

* The Shining” – A snowbound writer (Jack Nicholson) goes all Lizzie Borden on his wife and son in this Kubrick classic.

On second thought, I’d better scratch that last one off my list. It’s probably not the best thing to watch when you’re snowed in at your mom’s for three days.

HAPPY 50th SMURFDAY!

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

The Smurfs turn 50 this year, which is surprising since not one of them looks a day under 100 – the age, according to legend (and Wikipedia), of all Smurfs except Papa, Baby, Nanny and Grandpa. Though the little blue imps came to Americans’ attention in the ‘80s, they’ve actually been around since 1938, when Belgian cartoonist Pierre Culliford, aka “Peyo,” introduced them in a comic strip.

For those who didn’t come of age or have small children between 1981-1990, Smurfs are a “family” of small blue creatures (said to be three apples tall) living in wooded communal harmony a la Hanna-Barbera. In their homeland, they were known as "Schtroumpfs," which thankfully, the Dutch translated to "Smurfs." Otherwise, America would have sounded like it was in the throes of a collective head cold:

“Look, Mommy! Schtroumpfs!”
“Gesundheit and God bless you, Billy!”

The Smurfs enjoyed the fruits of stardom, winning Emmys and fans as they romped in their idyllic mushroom village, blissfully unaware of the big, bad outside world. But the merriment came to a halt in the early ‘90s, when the creators decided the American market was becoming oversaturated – or over-Smurf-urated, as it were, so they brought the Smurfs back home to Belgium. Now they’re planning a comeback – or as we humans might say, having a mid-life crisis.

With the original series coming out on DVD soon and a 3-D flick in the works for next year, Smurfomania is upon us once again.

How will the Smurfs fare in a world that has changed tremendously since their heyday? Can they hold the attention of today’s kids, who can play sports, drive cars and become guitar heroes with the flick of a wrist? After all, we are living in a material world and flower-pickin’ Smurfette's not exactly a Material Girl. How will they contend with today’s issues when their biggest obstacles have been evading the evil Gargamel and his foul-tempered cat Azrael and suppressing the biological urges that arise from living in a community where the gender ratio is hundreds of males to one female?

Valid questions, yes, but I know what you’re all really wondering: What have the Smurfs been up to in the nearly two decades since disappearing from the U.S. limelight?

Well, I have it on good authority that Vanity, the stylish one who sported a pink flower in his hat and spent much of his time staring into a mirror, stars in the Belgian hit series, “Queer Eye for the Smurf Guy.”

Jokey Smurf is killing ‘em on the comedy club circuit, Handy Smurf runs a house-flipping business, Greedy Smurf is a representative for the Smurfy Craig weight-loss program, while Papa Smurf has retired in luxury, i.e., a four-bedroom, ranch style home in the ‘burbs – a veritable palace by Smurf standards.

And what of Smurfette, she of the flowing blonde hair and fluttering eyelashes, that flirty coquette who loves the attention of anything in white pants? Word has it she’s now going by the stage name “Smurfis Hilton.”

DUDE, WHERE'S MY 'STACHE?

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Mustaches are making a comeback and I, for one, am hyena-happy about it. I’ve had enough of the pitiful face-fluff Hollywood’s been fobbing off on us for the past couple of decades. I’m sick of the scruffy stuff that screams, “I spend my paycheck on hobo wine instead of razors!” and the wan wisps reminiscent of pubescent boys going for a look that says “gangsta,” but ending up with “Got Milk?”

According to the American Mustache Institute (I swear I didn’t make that up), the end of the ‘70s began a Dark Age of discrimination against the hair-lipped. The St. Louis-based organization, which hosts an annual “‘Stache Bash,” battles negative stereotypes and fights for the rights of the oppressed Mustache-American masses. Indeed, the time has come to return to the masculine mouth-mantels of yesteryear. From studly (Burt Reynolds) to silly (Groucho Marx) to shaggy (Wilford Brimley), the mustache has a proud, well-groomed history among celebrities. So wear those lip-whiskers with pride, boys … they aren’t just for truckers, Hell’s Angels or Gene Shalit anymore.

If you’re thinking about letting your hair down, here are some noted mustache mavens you might want to mimic:

* Clark Gable in Gone With the Wind – “Frankly, Scarlett, I don’t give a damn if it itches when I kiss you.”

* The biker from The Village People – Mucho macho, man!

* Dr. Phil – Warning: Side effects may include smugness and slavish devotion to Oprah. If you experience an overinflated ego lasting more than four hours, please see your doctor.

* Lionel Richie – A look guaranteed to have you dancing on the ceiling all night long. Jheri Curl optional.

* Frank Zappa – There aren’t too many guys who can rock the horseshoe ‘stache. Case in point: Hulk Hogan.

* Charlie Chaplin – The Little Tramp was well-known for his little “toothbrush” mustache. Unfortunately, so was Hitler.

* Tom Selleck – While he won an Emmy for his portrayal of Magnum, P.I., his facial hair deserved an award for Best Supporting Actor.

* Sacha Baron Cohen – Is true that man who look like Borat always make sexy time with the ladies!

* Mario of Nintendo fame – Sudden increases in firepower and running abilities may occur.

No list would be complete – and this one’s nowhere close – without a tip of the razor to rugged veteran actor Sam Elliott, whose mustache is truly a wondrous thing to behold. In fact, I think it deserves a place on the National Park Service’s list of natural monuments, right up there with Yellowstone Park and the Everglades.

If you’re still uncertain about flaunting your facial foliage, visit www.petmoustache.com, where you can upload a photo of yourself and get a sneak peek at what you’d look like with a ‘stache. As for me, I don’t need the preview to know what I’d look like with facial hair. Thanks to middle age and Mother Nature, I’ll be finding out soon enough.

FAME: BABY, REMEMBER THEIR NAMES

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

It’s a good indication of what we’ve come to expect from celebrity parents when the typical reaction to the name of Christina Aguilera’s newborn son is, “Max? But that’s so … normal!”

Indeed, it’s becoming difficult to imagine the rich and famous sending their well-heeled whelps off to kindergarten with monikers like Jacob and Emily, the top names of choice among the non-famous in the past year. As celebrity baby names grow increasingly off-the-wall, little Max could be rubbing elbows with schoolmates whose names consist of unpronounceable symbols. Imagine roll call: “Bratman, Max ... Spears, Jayden … uh, Three Lines With A Curly Doodle On Top.”

I’m all for unusual names, but there’s a fine line between “unique” and “most likely to receive wedgies on a daily basis.”

When Gwyneth Paltrow and Coldplay hubby Chris Martin, named their daughter Apple in 2004, folks thought they’d gone bananas. Now, their kid’s name is scarcely a blip on the weird-o-meter, for beyond the Apples and Suris and Maddoxes of Hollyweird is a whole new breed of names that prove that there just ain’t no cure for stupid.

Submitted for your disapproval:

* Kal-El, son of actor Nicolas Cage. Kal-El is Superman’s birth name. We get it, Nic – you’re a comic book fan. But why not Clark or Kent? Sure hope your boy can run faster than a speeding bullet when the schoolyard bullies are on his tail.

* Pilot Inspektor, son of actor Jason Lee, is named after, “He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's the Pilot,” the opening song on Grandaddy's 2000 album, “The Sophtware Slump.” Good thing Lee didn't listen to the whole album or the tot might be “Jed the Humanoid.”

* Fifi Trixibelle, Peaches and Pixie, daughters of singer Bob Geldof and late British TV personality Paula Yates. I’m thinking they wanted puppies instead of children. Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily, daughter of late INXS frontman Michael Hutchence and the late Paula Yates. “Hiraani” sounds exotic. “Heavenly Hiraani,” however, sounds like a Ben & Jerry's flavor.

* Audio Science, son of actress Shannyn Sossamon. I'm pretty sure I took this class in junior college.

* Tu Morrow, daughter of actor Rob Morrow and future star of a TV show called “How Thinking I Was Clever Made My Kid Hate Me.”

* Tallulah Pine, daughter of Duran Duran's Simon LeBon ... and also the scent of my car air freshener. Fellow Durannie John Taylor's daughter is Atlanta Knew. Wonder if she'll be followed by brothers called Buffalo Heard and Cleveland Rocks?

* Rocket, Racer, Rebel and Rogue, sons of director Robert Rodriguez. Or Japanese anime characters. Or future WWF superstars. You decide.

* Moxie CrimeFighter, daughter of magician Penn Jillette. Penn's theory: Most people don't use their middle names, anyway, so why not “have some fun with it?” Right. Now explain “Moxie.”

* Jermajesty, son of Jermaine Jackson. The only thing more frightening than the pretentiousness of this name is the fact that it makes Michael seem like the normal parent.