Richard “Kinky” Friedman — the provocative and flamboyant Texas satirist who mounted a spirited campaign for governor in 2006 — has died. He was 79.
Friedman died at his longtime home at Echo Hill Ranch in Medina, his friends Cleve Hattersley said in an interview and Kent Perkins said on social media. He had Parkinson’s disease, Hattersley said.
Friedman ran for governor against Republican incumbent Rick Perry in 2006. Despite a colorful campaign and heavy media attention, Friedman finished fourth in the race. He also ran unsuccessfully for the Democratic nomination for agriculture commissioner in 2010 and in 2014.
Friedman was known for his outsized persona, pithy one-liners, and signature look: curly hair poking out from beneath a black cowboy hat, cigar in hand.
Friedman gained a reputation as a provocateur. In the early 1970s, he formed the satirical country band Kinky Friedman and The Texas Jewboys — which penned songs like “They Ain’t Makin’ Jews Like Jesus Anymore” and “Get Your Biscuits in the Oven and Your Buns in the Bed.”
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Read the full story and watch the video at KVUE.com. This story was originally published by the Texas Tribune.
Jaeden Martell, Rachel Zegler, and Julian Dennison in Y2K.
Movies that rely on nostalgia can be successful if they’re timed right. Generally, 25-30 years seems about the right amount of time to try to take advantage of people’s fond feelings for a certain era, which is why movies/TV shows about the ‘80s have been prevalent for much of the 21st century, and ‘90s-set films started to pop up in the last 10 years.
Y2K, a horror comedy that plays on the fears of technological mayhem many people thought would happen at the turn of the century, is right on the cusp of that rule, taking place 24 years after its timeline. It centers on two teenage boys, Eli (Jaeden Martell) and Danny (Julian Dennison), who are opposite in demeanor but have an unshakeable bond. Eli likes a popular girl, Laura (Rachel Zegler), and Danny convinces him to crash a New Year’s Eve party where she’ll be.
As the clock strikes midnight and the year moves from 1999 to 2000, everything that uses an electrical current goes haywire, with many of them combining forces to attack the humans around them. Eli and Danny find themselves on the run with Laura, as well as two stoners, Ash (Lachlan Watson) and CJ (Daniel Zolghadri), with each of them trying to use their unique skillset to help defeat a growing robot army.
Directed by Kyle Mooney and written by Mooney and Evan Winter, the film lands some solid jokes about the era in its opening 20 minutes or so, whether it’s the extreme slowness of dial-up internet, the goofy user names from AOL Messenger, or the various high school cliques of the time. However, many of them seem to echo ones told in 1999’s American Pie, a weird kind of art-imitating-art moment instead of commenting on real life.
The jolt of the machines attacking partygoers seems to promise a fun-if-bloody romp, but Mooney and Winter don’t seem to know where to take the story. They establish the computer bona fides of Eli and Laura early on, but when it comes time for them to put their talents in action, it feels like two actors going through the motions instead of real people who know what they’re doing. Almost none of the characters are believable or entertaining, and the few that rise above are dispatched way too early.
And because the filmmakers don’t make you care about the main group, nothing they face is that interesting, either. The villainous robots are made up of a bunch of disparate parts, which would seem to offer the opportunity for funny sight gags. Mooney and his team fumble most of their chances, though, leaving that side of the story stuck in limbo where it’s not absurd enough to be hilarious or scary enough to really count as horror.
Martell, Dennison, and Zegler are each rising stars who have their individual charms, but only Dennison is able to make much of an impact. Zegler, who starred in West Side Story and will soon be Snow White, is especially misused. They try to shoehorn in a cameo by Limp Biskit lead singer Fred Durst, but his appearance makes little sense and adds almost nothing to the story.
Filmmakers who want to mine nostalgia, especially in a comedy, need to really commit to the bit instead of throwing in a few references and needle drops. Mooney, who’s making his directorial debut, demonstrates little feel for timing, and so most of the film is like a car spinning its wheels, going nowhere.