Sex in the suburbs takes another trip down the lane with David Ross’ “The Babysitters”.  A chronicle of the skin that might as well happen in Anytown America, it paints an intriguing, real-world portrait of how sexualized everyday modern lives are.  Is it due to trenchant literature that has given the suburbs its newfound sinister edge, where the thin veneer that formerly kept us separated from the zoo of picket fence dysfunction has been permanently defiled?  Or is it actually something that owes more to the wholly superficial followings of facile, critic-approved cinema entertainments like “Ordinary People” and “American Beauty” that we now look at the ideal American family as full of character flaws and largely unhappy?  It used to be an inappropriate knee-jerk reaction that any shot of the family dog traipsing over perfectly mowed lawns signified a happy family life- now it seems to be shorthand for, “Oooh, there’s so much more going on here!”

The film follows maturing, responsible teen Shirley (Katherine Waterson), who has organized and planned every element of her life.  It’s an unremarkable high school girl’s life- too tall and imposing for most boys, and too self-serious for the party girls, she’s carved out a niche for herself where her babysitting acumen could probably set her up for a more promising future.  However, when she unexpectedly connects with housebound father David (John Leguizamo), her senses come alive, and the forbidden kiss they share shakes up their entire relationship.  Wracked with illicit, Lolita-addled guilt, David tips, somehow unaware of the baggage this gesture shows.  Sure enough, Shirley, viewing her budding sexuality as a commodity, decides to let him have at her again and again, un exchange for a bit of extra dough.

I’ve never been to a junket before.  When I was scheduled for “The Babysitters”, I mostly expected a large room with many journalists, jostling for position, all well-fed from the buffet table I had somehow missed out on.  Another vision portrayed a small room where I was face to face with John Leguizamo, having run through all my questions, merely staring at each other, awkwardly wondering when the time was over, still upset over our last exchange regarding the testy question I had planned for another film, “Paraiso Travel”.

Nothing is ever exactly how you imagine it in the world of film journalism.  Indeed, with “The Babysitters”, about a group of high school students who open up a prostitution ring, I was expecting non-stop sexuality and wall-to-wall nudity, only to find a teenage coming of age melodrama.  With only one scene of nudity- I’d be lying to you if I didn’t say as a straight male this perturbed me.  Good scene, though.  I didn’t prepare any questions for the cast and crew, instead winging it- the film provided all the material I needed.  Was it exploitation fair with a silly illusion of taste?  Or was it, I dunno, fun?  And what about the ending, when our heroine is left charred, beaten and bloodied by the volcano only to be rebuilt by cyborg assistants?  Food for thought- Microsoft Word doesn’t have cyborg in their dictionary.  Even the computers aren’t prepared for the upcoming Robot Apocalypse.

They held the event at the Regency Hotel in New York City.  I wandered around for a bit around a crowded lobby- there was obviously another junket there, something significantly high profile.  Arriving early, I stuck around to see what it was- I was hoping “Speed Racer”, and that I would see Emile Hirsch burst out of his limousine escort and stand, one foot and one hand extended, much like the animated incarnation, posing for the cameras.  He would be drunk. 

Instead, I milled about, wondering just what the commotion was, when an elderly man bumped into my shoulder.  “Sorry,” I mumbled, lost in the fact that my IPod was telling me that I had accidentally downloaded the theme to “Cadillacs And Dinosaurs”, possibly in a fit of rage.  “Mmhm,” the figure grunted, his hands outstretched and leading his body as if her were Nosferatu.  Oh, that’s Larry King.  His suspenders almost above his head, he walked forward, his scalp reflecting the lobby lights, his nose jutting forward, looking wizardly, the drinking buddy of Max Shreck and Bilbo Baggins.  I tried not to acknowledge him, partly because I wanted to look cool and partly because what would I say to him?  “Hey, you’re Larry King.  You have a show.  Congratulations.”

Executive Produced by Happy Madison Productions and Andrew Golder ("Identity" and "Win Ben Stein's Money") in association with Sony Pictures Television, "The Gong Show with Dave Attell" will consist of eight to ten off-beat and hilarious acts that will be judged by a panel of three revolving celebrity judges. The search for talent has already begun and submissions are being accepted at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it . Zoe Friedman is the executive in charge of production for COMEDY CENTRAL.

"We are very excited to welcome Dave Attell back to the network and put the COMEDY CENTRAL touch on such a classic game/variety show," said Corrao. "Dave is the perfect guy to host this series. His dry, comedic wit paired with the outspoken personalities of our celebrity judges and the outrageous acts will create a fresh, new take on the famed series."

"Stars will be made, feelings will be hurt," said Attell.