Rating: 
Summary: Lets criticize the ciritic
Review: I found Joe Queenan's book to be that rarity, written words that are truly laugh out loud funny, Nevertheless, I will conceed that his writing could be an acquired taste. Those who do not revel in cynical or vicious humor should avoid Queenan at all costs. But for those like me who are more apt to read the newspaper review of the one star movie than that of the four star movie just for the laughs, then this book is your Valhalla. Queenan spares no medium; books, videos, concerts, cds, movies, restaurants, Broadway shows; they are all the victims of his biting wit. Even when h was trashing something that I like, I enjoyed his insights. And because he also writes it all in a bit of a winking manner and he keeps it under 200 total pages, it doesn't become overbearing.This was the first Queenan that I have read (I bought it based on hearing him on Don Imus's radio show). That I will be searching out more of his titles is the best compliment I can pay him.
Rating:
Summary: Queenan Sharpens His Skewer
Review: Joe Queenan's pen has always had a large amount of poison in it and in Red Lobster, White Trash & the Blue Lagoon, it spills out in buckets. The premise of the book is that Mr. Queenan is immersing himself in pop culture phenomenon like Cats to find out why something so bad is loved by millions. He goes to Andrew Lloyd Weber plays, listens to music like Michael Bolton, goes to Red Lobsters and heads out to the entertainment wasteland in Branson, Missouri. The description of his journey out to Branson is priceless and classic Queenan. He eventually becomes addicted to these things and he tries to climb out of this entertainment death pit. If you enjoy a cynical writer and someone not afraid to offend, then Joe Queenan is your man.
Rating: 
Summary: Joe has been funnier
Review: I usually enjoy Queenan's work, but here the laughs were few and far between. Yes, he spoke volumes of truth, but I was often puzzled by the lack of humor. What, Joe, no Denny's review? Also, there were a few factual errors in the book that made me wonder if Joe had indeed seen a couple of the films he mentions.
Rating: 
Summary: For masochists only
Review: Don't waste your money on this book. Just go to any bar and ask the dullest drunk there for his opinion on pop culture. Then sit back and be bored for three hours.
Rating:
Summary: Read This Book...Then Write The Sequel Yourself
Review: In "American Culture, American Taste," a more scholarly study of leisure preference, historian Michael Kammen laments the handing of cultural leadership from societal tastemakers completely to the public, then slavishly served by mass culture and easily manipulated by advertising. This has resulted in gradual homogonization, "dumbing down" of all art forms. In "Red Lobster.." Kammen's cultural famine becomes columnist Joe Queenan's acerbic Admiral's feast. Queenan, former Philadelphian and TV Guide employee (like yours truly), not to mention self-professed highbrow, searched Broadway to Branson, Paris to Cleveland for the pandering, crass, and schmaltzy in books, film, food, theater, and TV. His is a fun, fast read with handfuls of name checks, infuriating depending on how much your preferences clash with Queenan's often sneering opinions. Queenan saves special criticism for the overwritten books of Deepak Chopra and Robert James Waller, overcooked meals at TGI Fridays and Taco Bell, overwrought music of AC giants John Tesh, Billy Joel, and Kenny G (missing the horrid Bette Midler but praising her former employee, Barry Manilow), and overdone sequels to movies that shouldn't have had a I, let alone a II-VII. His most vicious vitriol is for overproduced Broadway plays like "Jeckyll & Hyde" and "Cats," (from which Queenan enters and exits his lowbrow luau). You'll disagree with Queenan, often and vocally. His opinions of doo-wop music and the films of Mel Brooks miss the point and, for doo-wop at least, are borderline racist. The same for his views of Branson except for Andy Williams (who receives Queenan's highest praise: "no schmaltz whatsoever"). But "Red Lobster" remains entertaining regardless of your entertainment choices; his takes on live audience reactions, and his praise of older performers, may have you asking, "Why did I like...?" He won't change your mind, but despite offensive language and annoying prose style, he will have you using it. Read it, then write your own sequel.
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Summary: Hilarious attack on the drivel that passes for "culture"....
Review: While there is much to recommend in this biting book, it is worth the price alone for the full-frontal assault on that sacred institution of kitsch, the musical "Cats." To quote Queenan: "This was pure pain. This was sheer torture. 'Cats' really was the worst thing on the entire planet." Considering the garbage Queenan encountered on his journey (from the mind-numbing music of Michael Bolton to the shallow spirituality of Deepak Chopra), it is worth noting that everything comes back to this painfully banal musical wasteland. Queenan, more than anyone, appreciates guilty pleasures and the allure of bad taste, but his mission, to discover why it is that Americans abhor the noble and the grand in their artistic indulgences, is certainly no pleasure cruise. We are a nation that embraces trash and most frightening of all, we find no need to apologize for it.
Rating: 
Summary: Why are the reviews all over the map for this book?
Review: I'll tell you why -- because Queenan systematically and remorselessly attacks EVERY pop culture icon. He does it in a very, very funny way, but make no mistake, at some point he WILL light into your personal favorite movie or book and make a very strong case that if you watch/read it again, your IQ will drop by 5 points. If you can take the heat, you'll enjoy the book. But if your ego can't take a little bruising, you'll want to leave this one on the shelf. A few samples from the index should give you an idea what I'm talking about: Aykroyd, Dan -- capriciously insulted, 42; capriciously insulted, 48 Bolton, Michael -- likened to ebola virus, 7-8 Branson, Missouri -- as cultural penal colony, 166 Cats -- stunning appeal to gawking midwestern huckleberries, 7 Clancy, Tom -- made fun of for no good reason, 142 Collins, Joan -- command of sixth-grade French of, 29 And my personal favorite: South, the -- entire hilarious chapter cut out of book by domineering editor In summary, well worth the cover price, but only if you can laugh at yourself.
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Summary: A lyrical indictment of middlebrow dreck
Review: Joe Queenan's writing still has that "life-affirming malice" he admitted to in <i>If You're Talking to Me...</i>, and he skewers a diverse array of deserving targets with style. I laughed nonstop while reading the book, and cringed in recognition at more than one passage. It's a fun read, so long as you're secure in your own personal taste. Those of you who consider Stephen King and Red Lobster the apogees of literature and cuisine respectively would do well to be defensive: your taste is bad, and the author does a wonderful job in illustrating precisely how bad it is. Unless you enjoy being skewered as much as you apparently enjoy bad seafood, you'll want to pass.
Rating:
Summary: Witless
Review: I cannot imagine spending an evening with this man. I'm reminded of a roommate I once had who, after arriving home, complained about the traffic for 30 minutes EVERY SINGLE DAY. I sympathize, but please, if you're going to talk about it, give me something interesting. A few points in the book attempt to understand WHY something is bad, but he usually resorts to hyperbolic language that chastizes without providing any insight into the means of the failure. There are better social critics out there. Save yourself for authors like David Sedaris--"Santaland Diaries" in Holidays on Ice is funny and inventive.
Rating:
Summary: Unimaginative tripe from one of the many leftover hacks
Review: Normally, if I find a book is simply unreadable for me (as has happened more than one time with Faulkner and Melville), I drop it in the donation box at the local orphanage. Queenan has succeeded in breaking this long tradition of altruism. Perhaps if the book was written well, it might draw some gossamer-thin veil over the fact that it points out things in society even a ten year old knows. But it's not. Queenan's pretentious style and tendency to take on his typical air of superiority makes this book completely unassailable from any angle. Queenan seems to want to be some strange hybrid of Jerry Seinfeld, Jeff Foxworthy, and Chris Rock, but comes off look like Jerry Lewis. I'd get more substance and insight from staring at the trees that were killed to make this worthless piece of garbage than I do from Queenan's bitchy snickering.
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