Salon.com > Entourage

Andrew Dice Clay still won’t apologize

Tue, 09 Aug 2011 17:20:00 +0000

In Andrew Dice Clay's heyday he sold out Madison Square Garden twice, but he also inspired a boycott on "Saturday Night Live" by a female cast member and the scheduled musical guest, Sinéad O'Connor.

But Dice paid for his lewd, crude and misogynistic ways -- not to mention the affinity for way too much leather -- in the late '90s, when a failed reality show and a quick exit off "The Apprentice" made it clear the Diceman would not be coming back to the adoring/despising crowds. He was forgotten.

Now he's on the latest season of "Entourage," playing a foul-mouthed, washed-up version of the Diceman, a character he claims contains more truth about himself than his reality show ever presented. And this time around, he's winning praise for his performance.

So what changed? When did the comedian get a sense of humor about his own life? I spoke to Dice (his preferred name) on the phone last week about his new role, his sons -- and his disgust with Internet pornography. Unbelievable.

“Entourage” recap 8×3

Mon, 08 Aug 2011 14:59:00 +0000

EDITOR'S NOTE: This recap contains spoilers from last night's episode. Proceed at your own risk.

Drew: This episode starts by showing us some actual repercussions of Vince's drug use. He's in an AA meeting, and not to spoil anything yet, but by the end of the episode the guys might have actually experienced the darkest moment on the series so far. But my first question is: what is the history between the boys and that producer who comes up to Vince after the meeting and tries to make amends?

Matt: The producer who shoots himself at the end of the episode, and who was in that rehab group with Vince, is Carl Ertz. He's played by Kim Coates, an amazing Canadian actor who's on "Sons of Anarchy" and has had a long career as a character actor. Ertz was first introduced in the 2008 episode "Fantasy Island," when Vince was hiding out down in Mexico following the failure of his dream project "Medellin." Ertz contacted him and offered him a comeback project, a tropical crime thriller that had been turned down be Emile Hirsch. (Remember when Emile Hirsch was the next big thing as a leading man?) Anyway, it turned out that Ertz was only courting Vince to drive down Hirsch's asking price. When the boys discovered this, they trashed Ertz's car as revenge. But this being Hollywood, where the deal is more important than personal animosity, Vince didn't bear any ill will over that. Plus there was the rehab bond, which counts for a lot.

When “celebrities” sue cartoons

Tue, 02 Aug 2011 16:30:00 +0000

For those of you keeping score at home, this season of "Entourage" has the perpetually semi-employed Johnny Drama voicing an animated series called "Johnny Bananas" alongside Andrew Dice Clay. "Johnny Bananas" is a crazy world, full of monkeys, orangutans, and gorillas -- all of whom sound like they just walked off of a shoot for a "Goodfellas" parody. (Why would anyone be making a "Goodfellas" parody in 2011? I have no idea. Andrew Dice Clay is on "Entourage" though, so perhaps the year doesn't matter!)

There's only one problem: a former MTV reality star* has already claimed the name Johnny Bananas, and he's gearing up to sue "Entourage" for using his likeness for their imaginary monkey show. Does he have grounds to take this all the way to monkey court? Let's take a look.

Johnny Bananas, aka John Devenanzio, starred in "The Real World" in 2006 (and later on "The Challenge," formerly known as "Road Rules/Real World Challenge") and talks with a thick Brooklyn/Boston accent, just like Drama and Dice.

“Entourage” recap: 8×2

Mon, 01 Aug 2011 06:01:00 +0000

Editor's note: Salon staff writers Matt Zoller Seitz and Drew Grant will be recapping the eighth and final season of "Entourage" as a team. Matt has been watching the HBO series regularly since it debuted; Drew is a newbie. Complications ensue.

Drew: So this episode starts off at a very expensive hotel where the gang is all living since their house burned down due to an errant joint, right?

Matt: Is that a hotel? I thought it was heaven.

Drew: Ha ha. Heaven doesn't have Drama in an Ed Hardy shirt.

Matt: I like Drama insisting on the shirt's heterosexual cred. If you have to insist that your shirt makes you look straight, there's a problem.

Drew: It's like insisting you are famous -- another one of Drama's personality quirks. But my first question is: If a famous movie star gets out of rehab and then his house burns down because of a pot-related accident, is there nobody -- not the paparazzi, a parole officer, a sponsor -- who would maybe try to take Vincent Chase away from these guys? No one who, at the very least, would point to the incident as a sign of a possible relapse?

“Entourage” recap: 8×1

Mon, 25 Jul 2011 16:40:00 +0000

Editor's note: Salon staff writers Matt Zoller Seitz and Drew Grant will be recapping the eighth and final season of "Entourage" as a team. Matt has been watching the HBO series regularly since it debuted; Drew is a newbie. Complications ensue.

Drew: The eighth season of "Entourage" is a good a place to start watching the show as any: Vince just got out of rehab and is totally chill (that's so Vince), Drama and Turtle are bumbling their way through making their pad drug-free for their buddy's homecoming (that's so Drama and Turtle!), Ari is making gay jokes around Lloyd and trying to yell his way back into his wife loving him (that's so Ari!), and E is freaking out because Sloane sent his engagement ring back to him in an envelope and Vince never called him about getting out of rehab (actually, E is sort of edgy these days). And Scott Caan is there, being just so Scott Caan!

“A Somewhat Gentle Man”: Hilarious darkness from the frozen north

Fri, 14 Jan 2011 01:30:00 +0000

When Ulrik, a ponytailed, weatherbeaten Norwegian convict played by Stellan Skarsgård, is about to be released from the prison that's been his home for the last 12 years, a guard rushes up to him at the last minute with a bottle of something good and a few words of wisdom. "When you leave this place, keep going forward," the guard tells him. "Don't look back." Then the gate slides open, and Ulrik looks out at freedom: the flat, white, unrelieved winter landscape of Norway. We don't know anything about his life in prison, but was it really as bad as all that?

That's just the first of numerous sight gags in Hans Petter Moland's film "A Somewhat Gentle Man," which I truly and honestly believe is one of the funniest movies I've seen in years. If you suspect that says more about me than about the film, you might be right. I'm exactly the sort of evil bastard who finds disproportionate delight in a Scandinavian black comedy that suggests both the Coen brothers' "Fargo" and the grim fables of Finnish minimalist Aki Kaurismäki. Still, maybe you're the kind of person who grooves to the dark humor of the northlands yourself, and I'm more than happy to defend "A Somewhat Gentle Man" as a pitch-perfect blend of darkness and sweetness, built around a masterful performance by a great actor.

Sasha Grey sparks bush backlash

Tue, 10 Aug 2010 02:10:00 +0000

Sasha Grey made my day -- and I don't just say that to rhyme, I swear. Apparently, the porn star appeared naked on last night's "Entourage" and caused quite the commotion among the show's dude-bro contingent. Not because she was naked on-camera (which is, mind you, a relatively common occurrence) but because she went naked with a full-on bush (which is also a relatively common occurrence for her, actually). Judging from the resulting hysteria on Twitter, it was the Pube-pocalypse. Behold, a few of the standout tweets:

Yea she had a sicko BUSH

Sasha Grey had an ENORMOUS fucking 70s bush. WTF

That shit was so uncalled for

Sasha Grey really should shave her bush

Entourage was wild. So was Sasha Grey's bush. #EW

did anyone else think that was disgusting. ITS 2010!

The brilliant class tensions of “Entourage”

Mon, 28 Jun 2010 15:01:00 +0000

Seven seasons into "Entourage," the show's transplanted Queens boys -- Vincent (Adrien Grenier), his big brother Johnny Drama (Kevin Dillon) and his best friends E (Kevin Connolly) and Turtle (Jerry Ferrara) -- still seem faintly amazed by how far they've come. Even when they size up a babe-laden yacht with a blasé-sounding quip, you sense an undercurrent of incredulity that's of a piece with the gripe that industry veterans often lodge against them: Deep down, they're naive. In a sense, they are naive. And it's not just their default state. It's a performance sustained for the world and for each other.

"Entourage" has long been described as the straight man's answer to HBO's urban princess fantasy "Sex and the City," and superficially the description fits. From the sports cars and designer duds to the offhand sexist and homophobic one-liners to the endless array of curvy babes jockeying to bed Vince -- or service one of his buddies as a consolation prize -- the series is a fantasy of alpha male entitlement, and a weekly dip in filthy lucre only slightly less shameless than those cash baths that Scrooge McDuck used to take. It would be mere bubblegum wealth porn were it not for a singular, striking quality: its fascination with class.

“How to make it in America”: Hanging with the have-nots

Sun, 14 Feb 2010 02:01:00 +0000

Who tricked us into thinking that creativity was the holy grail of personal achievement?

Everyone wants to be creative and successful these days. "I want to create something lasting," they say, as if writing another out-of-print book or throwing up another album on iTunes might beat back mortality's inexorable creep.

Of course, most of us aren't preoccupied with our legacy so much as disturbed by the pointlessness of most other options. Let's see, I can create something meaningful and expressive, or I can help some company that creates a disposable product trick the world into buying it.

What no one tells you, of course, is that the former inevitably turns into the latter. No sooner have you put the finishing touches on your masterpiece than a phalanx of professionally smooth humans gathers to discuss how to peddle your brand to the appropriate demographic. "Who is your demographic, do you think?" they'll ask you.

I don't know, you'll answer. Crazy people? Angry people? People who just want to create something lasting but end up pissing away their prime in extended Twitter exchanges and tedious teleconferencing calls?

Desperately seeking status

I Like to Watch

Sun, 31 May 2009 10:30:00 +0000

Modern life has a frustrating way of setting us up to fail seconds after we wake up. I didn't exercise this morning, and neither did my dogs, who sulked instead. I drank caffeine, which is bad for me, and wrote for a few hours instead of vacuuming the living room floor. I didn't shower. I drove my daughter to daycare and she didn't cry when I left, but I didn't spend the day with her. I walked the dogs but didn't run because I still have a cough, which must mean I'm doing something wrong. I paid some bills but didn't clean off my desk. I watched a screener of "Nurse Jackie" but didn't figure out what its central premise is. I made dinner but my daughter only ate bread. The baby nursed for an hour (good) then spent an hour sleeping in her automatic swing while I ate chocolate and watched "Make Me a Supermodel" (bad). I took my vitamins but didn't floss. I wrote this paragraph, but I'm pretty sure most of you won't like it, since it means waiting longer to find out what time "Jon & Kate Plus 8" is on (9 p.m. Mondays on TLC).

Obama’s designated a–hole

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 17:59:00 +0000

For one brief moment over the summer, it seemed as if Barack Obama was ready to start throwing his weight around, the way a man who would soon be president of the United States -- even if it wasn't assured at the time -- is entitled to do. On the Senate floor during a vote in June, he spotted Joe Lieberman, who had just conducted yet another conference call organized by John McCain's campaign. Doing his best LBJ impersonation, Obama dragged Lieberman over to a corner, then backed him up against the wall and lectured him on his advocacy for the Republicans.

That one story stands out because during the rest of the 2008 campaign and all its twists, it's hard to find another example of Obama acting aggressive toward anyone. His new White House chief of staff, Rahm Emanuel, doesn't exactly have that problem.

Emanuel -- or, as he's universally known around D.C. and Chicago, Rahm, or sometimes "Rahmbo" -- comes into the new gig with a well-earned reputation as one of Washington's toughest operators. The guy's favorite word is "fuck" and its many variations; he's a brilliant, if ruthless, tactician who helped put House Democrats in control two years ago, then moved up in leadership and helped keep them there this week.

I Like to Watch

Sun, 08 Apr 2007 13:00:00 +0000

Men and women are different. Thank god we're all old enough to know that now. Thank god we no longer waste our time asking each other impossible questions, like "Why can't we communicate soulfully, like Gwyneth Paltrow probably does with Chris Martin? Why can't you smell that smell that I'm smelling? Where are your pants? What's that on your face? Are you insane or just very stupid? Should I have another margarita?"

If only we knew when we were younger what we know now, that men and women come from different planets, both of them spilling over with their own distinct clichés. Women can try to date touchy-feely types who fold their clothes neatly and put stuff away and meditate, men can try to date "SportsCenter"-watching, back-slapping gals who know how to "hang," but the divide between the sexes is still too great. Women like to overanalyze, digress, split hairs, muse, contemplate, obsess. Men like to stare at pictures of ass cheeks.

I Like to Watch

Sun, 04 Sep 2005 21:43:00 +0000

Sky falling, news at 11!
Once, a long time ago, I had this really weird dream where I was walking down the street, and all of a sudden everything around me started to float up toward the sky, and there was this intense pressure in my ears. What the hell was going on? Using my immense powers of deduction, I quickly concluded that the world had actually stopped spinning and therefore there was no gravity and the atmosphere was floating away and life on Earth was over, done, kaput! Smell ya later, world!

Strangely, my slumbering reaction was limited to a quiet, resigned sigh of, "Bummer." No time to hug anyone, or cry, or tune in to CNN, or run to the cellar where the water and the crank radio and the cans of mini ravioli are stored. No. The world ended in one collective, silent, very quick bummer. You know, like when Darth Vader blew up the planet Alderan, except this time a million voices didn't even cry out.

How Bill Gates cured my PMS

Mon, 07 Feb 2005 20:30:00 +0000

The familiar list of PMS symptoms we've all seen -- tension, irritability, moodiness, depression, etc. -- never includes what for me is PMS's most difficult symptom: myopia. I don't mean myopia in the ophthalmic sense, but rather the shortsightedness that makes it impossible to see that your tension, irritability, moodiness and depression are being caused by PMS, and not by the universe's cruel and ugly indifference, your boyfriend's cloaked hatred, your boss's plot to destroy you, or your general failings as a human being. It becomes difficult to see that the problem isn't with you -- it's with your hormones.

I hate that word -- hormones -- and the way it dismisses real emotional states so blithely, the way it's used as the answer to virtually any woman's health question, the way it's used to explain why women shouldn't be president. But it was tough to deny that hormones were screwing up my life on a monthly basis. Tough to deny, that is, unless I was under their spell. If you asked me in the before stages, I'd admit that yes, I'd had problems with PMS. And in the after stages, I'd realize that, yes, last week's fit of grumpiness/impatience/murderous rage might have been due to PMS. But it was in the crucial during stage that the myopia would set in.