I accidentally stumbled upon this band, The Avalanches. They're a more upbeat and lighthearted version of The Books, another group I would high-five for being awesome.
"Since I Left You" from album of same name.
I'm also digging around to see if I'll like this "riot grrl" music. I should, I'm a card-carrying feminist and frequently angry at the patriarchy, and so far The Slits seem like my kinda gals, so we'll see how this goes.
"I Heard It Through the Grapevine" from the album Cut.
Writer/director Rian Johnson has joined the ranks of the unappreciated filmatic geniuses along with Christopher Nolan, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, and Michel Gondry (I was trying to think of a female director to round this out, but of course, I couldn't think of any off the top of my head. But I think it's safe to say that all female directors are underappreciated.) If you missed his debut film Brick, you need to stop reading this, run down to Blockbuster or your best film-obsessed friend, and get your hands on that movie. You need to watch it, then come back and finish reading this.
It's okay, I'll wait.
All done? Good. What did you think? Pretty effin' good, right? Detective noir set in a high school with some of the snappiest dialogue since Snatch? Yes. A thousand times yes. Now, to The Brothers Bloom.
Brothers is a more lighthearted film than Brick, and, though set in the present, has whispers of decades past thanks to brilliant costuming by Beatrix Aruna Pasztor (Costume designer for Æon Flux and Vanity Fair) and filming in Montenegro (I smell a new vacation destination). The characters are quirky, and if you know anything about me, I love quirky characters. Mark Ruffalo and Adrien Brody star as brothers who, after a hilarious childhood montage narrated in poetic rhyming prose, become gentlemen thieves, the classiest of con artists, fellows one wouldn't mind being swindled by. Ruffalo is Stephen, the elder brother and mastermind of the cons, which he writes like Russians write novels.
Brody is the younger, more brooding and anxiety-ridden, brother, the lonely protagonist in Stephen's plots who wants out of the conning game, but can't find the strength to leave his brother and the only life he's ever known. Joining them in their exploits is Bang Bang (Rinko Kikuchi), the sexy, mute Japanese demolitions expert.
Let me just say that while watching this film, keep an eye on Kikuchi. Though she has very few lines, her mannerisms and interactions with the brothers are HILARIOUS, but not over the top. She also has a lovely moment of karaoke featuring her real voice, because, you know. JAPANESE.
For the brothers' last con, they take shut-in millionairess Penelope (Rachel Weisz) on a whirlwind adventure in antique smuggling. Penelope is reminiscent of Evey from The Mummy, but is different enough that the two characters stand apart. Penelope is more awkward, more excitable, and so goddamned precious you're going to be waving your fists in front of you going, "Eeeeee!" for a good portion of her screen time. Oh, and by the way, that card trick she does while talking to Brody's character about her childhood? Yeah, Weisz spent a month learning that trick for the continuous shot of her hands. She also learned skateboarding and rapping from Brody while shooting for the montage of Penelope's hobbies. BAM.
Besides the acting, which is superb, the writing, which is inspired, the story, which is fresh take on an age-old genre, and how achingly adorable the characters are, MEN PAY ATTENTION NOW, this movie makes me reevaluate my wardrobe. I know, guys, I know, CLOTHES ::SNORE::, but look, everyone in this movie looks AWESOME, especially the men. Pinstripes, vests, bowler and porkpie hats, cravats, driving gloves, black, white, and dark grey, OH MY GOD YOU MEN NEED TO DRESS LIKE THIS ALWAYS.
ALWAYS.
It's really hard to talk about this movie without giving too much away; now, in my perusal of the internets for pictures, I've come across some reviews that were decidedly in the negative vein. Some nonsense about this film being "ostentatiously quirky," and being "over the top." These people clearly haven't seen Twilight, so they don't really have a proper frame of reference of what constitutes a bad movie. Someone else drew an unfair comparison, saying that Johnson was ripping off Wes Anderson; while they both have an eye for cinematography and color and costume, Anderson's characters tend to be disconnected from their emotions, while Johnson's experience the strata of mood and actually demonstrate that outwardly. Anderson's movies also tend to slowly saunter towards their conclusions, whereas Johnson's are fairly active and quick-paced at times. This is nothing against Anderson; I do enjoy Wes Anderson films, but personally I think there is a definite separation between the two directors. So, you know, me and those guys, we can't go to the same Olive Garden anymore.
I saw this movie twice, and I enjoyed it just as much on the second viewing as I did the first. This absolutely will be going into my DVD collection, and I've pretty much hassled everyone I know to go see this film immediately. As my mother said when we went to see this, "I was so disappointed when it ended; I was like, wait, I can't just live in this movie forever?"
ps. Check out the cameos of Brick players Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Noah Segan, and Nora Zehetner.
After watching my Poirot DVDs twelve times over, I've turned to my massive Agatha Christie collection to satisfy my craving for mystery, the 1930s, and French-speaking Belgians. Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about? WELL LET ME ENLIGHTEN YOU.
I'm a bit of fan-girl when it comes to Agatha Christie's greatest fictional character, Hercule Poirot, one of the most adorable detectives EVAR. Poirot is a former Belgian police detective who moves to England and becomes a private detective, unraveling the most obtuse and Gordian-knot-like mysteries. And honestly, if you ever need to bump someone off, her books are a pretty excellent how-to.
I own over half of Christie's nearly 50 Poirot novels, several of which have been turned into one of the most excellent of detective shows starring the inimitable David Suchet as Poirot. Still turning out the occasional tv special, the series has been going since 1989. As a kid, one of my most favorite things was staying with my grandmother on Long Island and watching PBS's "Mystery!" theater while laying under the covers in the dark on the blowup mattress in the living room. A good portion of my attachment to the show is the result of such well-formed memories, but in all honesty, the show really is that good. Suchet is THE perfect, quintessential, and only Poirot. The prim and exacting minuscule detective with the elegant mustache is embodied in Suchet's performance; if you watch carefully, you will discover an entire catalogue of mannerisms that create a real, living embodiment of a fictional character. Not to mention that Suchet's accent and use of French is parfait, and you will find yourself repeating the words for later use.
My love of Poirot in this context is such that if I were to ever meet David Suchet, I would have to insist that he wear the mustache and speak with the accent. I couldn't talk to him otherwise, everything he said would just sound like white noise. Not to mention that I can't stand anyone else playing Poirot. I rented the film "Murder on the Orient Express" once, and after ten minutes I'd had enough, it was so painful watching another actor massacre my image of the little detective.
What is interesting, and something that I have discovered in reading the novels, is that the writers of the show have actually improved on Christie's design: in the novels, Poirot is a little bit of a dick because his well-earned ego is so huge. He consistently reminds his pal Capt. Hastings what an idiot he is, and how inferior he is to Poirot's superior intellect. In the show, Poirot is well-aware that he is the best there is and that his friend isn't as smart as he, but he is a bit more humble about it and doesn't make Hastings feel like an ass unless the situation calls for it. The relationship feels warmer and based on mutual respect and affection rather than an audience for Poirot's impressive use of his "little grey cells." The books also paint Poirot more akin to a cat, with flashing green eyes and a dainty, nimble quickness. While the twinkle remains in Suchet's eyes, he's portrayed as a portlier fellow, someone who clearly enjoys the finer foods and drink and the comforts offered by British high society. I'm okay with this, because he's still dainty and fussy and the fanciest of dressers. How fancy? He has a special napkin that buttons to his shirt front for meals. He has a silver case for his cigarette ashes. He wears SPATS. He is so goddamned fancy.
Another reason I love the show is the immersion and dedication to the setting and costumes. ART DECO MOTHERFUCKERS.
I squeed pretty hard during an episode when I recognized a giant oil painting in the background as being done in the style of one of my favorite painters, contemporary to the period, Tamara De Lempicka.
So, if you're curious, as far as the books go, some of my favorites are: Murder on the Orient Express After the Funeral Murder in Retrospect Elephants Can Remember One, Two, Buckle My Shoe
The great thing, and also the worst thing, about her books is that once I start reading, I find it very difficult to stop, because I want to get to the end with Poirot's fantastic denouement and find out the who/what/where/when/why of the plot. This means that I actually manage to get through more than one book in a week, but it also means that I don't get much else done.
So if you love the 30's and 40's, art deco, Britishisms, detective stories, psychology, and tiny Belgian detectives, you can pick up any of Christie's novels up at the library or bookstore and find the DVD collections of the television show at Amazon.com. It's well worth it. Look at those mustaches!
Til next time dear reader; I hope it won't be another 10 days.
Occasionally, I find myself a bit bored and desirous of some nice background noise while I read one of the million books on my bookshelf that haven't been read yet. So I found myself yesterday.
I looked over my DVDs to see what would be a proper "don't really have to pay attention" light and sound show (we don't have cable, and the VCR is on the fritz), and my eyes alighted on a recent addition to the collection, thanks to the Manfriend's mom.
Gidget, starring Miss Sandra Dee.
Now, up to this point, my exposure to Sandra Dee was limited to twenty minutes of Tammy and the Doctor and Rizzo's "Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee!" in Grease. I suppose I could have caught Beyond the Sea, about her marriage to Bobby Darin, but my knee-jerk distaste for Kate Bosworth nipped that one in the bud. However, I do feel that being familiar with the lyrics to "Look at Me..." is a fantastic introduction to this film.
"Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee Lousy with virginity"
Amazingly, the entirety of Gidget is an examination of this barely seventeen year-old's struggle with overcoming her tom boyish nature and the pressure to "become a woman." The inuendo is almost too much for me to handle.
From the start of the film, a good chunk of the screen time is dedicated to snaring 30-something year-old overly-tanned fellows who much prefer the company of their equally tanned surfer buddies lazing on the beach than the females skipping and bouncing through the sand. Flat-chested Gidget is coaxed by her middle-aged friends to put down the books and the cello and come out to "the manhunt." Whoo boy. From those first few scenes, I knew that I was in for a real cinematic treat. These friends, with boobs out to the moon and one sporting a giant granny-panty white bikini bottom (only technically a bikini because it's not connected to the top piece an inch and a half above it), are so busy trying to attract the attention of the sexist horndog surfer dudes (who are actually really engrossed in their bromances, and only take a break to whistle and hoot at some passing babes, you know, just so we know they're not gay) that they don't actually enjoy being at the beach AT ALL. When their cleverly masked ploys for attention fail, they leave in a huff, because clearly there isn't anything better to do at the beach than have a guy oggle your goods.
Thankfully, Gidget, at the time known as Francie, is determined to have fun rather than manhunt and goes snorkeling. However, despite growing up in California, she's an appalling swimmer, a fact that is demonstrated more than once. Maybe it's her teeny frame (and jeez, it's itsy bitsy, one wonders if Sandra's anorexia was in full swing at this point), but it turns out that kelp is her mortal enemy. So of course, like a GIRL, she ends up distressed and has to be rescued by one of the not-a-gay surfers, Moondoggie. Yeah. You read that right.
She of course falls for her rescuer, as well as becoming addicted to the adrenaline rush from the slow, small-waved surf back to the shore. What better way to spend her summer than combine two of her new favorite things--currying favor with "Girls are icky" Moondoggie and joining the guys gang of surfers?
Oh lord a' mercy, so it begins. The film is chock full of indirect references to Gidget's virginity and lack of woman-hood ("Gidget" is her surfer nickname, a mash-up of "girl" and "midget") and the uncomfortable half-hearted advances of the surfer dudes, who all look to be thirty and up, despite claims of being college-aged. Gidget's parents are blissfully ignorant of their young daughter gallivanting around with middle-aged beach bums, and any argument they have between themselves is immediately apologized for and ends in hugs. Even when she's dragged in by the police for breaking curfew (I know, what the hell 1950's?), her parents are just oh so happy that she's safe and sound. The best part, and by best I mean most cringingly uncomfortable, is when in an effort to make Moondoggie jealous, Gidget invites herself into Kahuna's shack o'love and offers up her maidenhead to the scruffy, greasy, sweaty Korean War vet. I guess all that staying out past curfew at a beach make-out party and drinking beer was enough to make her say "Fuck it, I wanna get laid!"
Kahuna, of course, reminding himself of the statutory rape laws, kicks her out before they can do the nasty, but not before some creepy whispering and caressing. With a bruised ego, Gidget flees into the night, gets a flat tire, and is interrogated by the cops who pull over. Despite the reputation-tarnishing evening, all is forgiven, the only consequence is that her father is really going to push that date with his colleague's son. SPOILER ALERT: turns out his colleague's son is Moondoggie!
Everything ends well: Kahuna gives up being a beach bum and gets a real job, Moondoggie goes back to college, and Gidget gets Moondoggie's pin! Oh rapture! Though I'm still trying to figure out how you go from an overly-candid conversation (for the 50s) with your mom about wanting to lose your virginity to losing your shit over being pinned.
I'm convinced that this movie makes for a fantastic drinking game, the rules for which I have just made up:
Drink any time...
there is a thinly-veiled reference to Gidget's virginity or lack of boobage
Kahuna's facial hair looks like a greasy smear, and not stubble
a surfer dude does or says something incredibly sexist
Moondoggie inexplicably breaks into song
the surfer dudes are more interested in their bromance than much else
the word "manhunt" is used
Gidget puts on a fluffy cardigan
Kahuna is not wearing shoes
Kahuna shows up in an unbuttoned shirt with torn sleeves
a fight with Gidget's parents is amicably resolved
Gidget's parents are far too understanding
dykey-McShorthair shows up and really has little purpose in the scene
The cover. It is an artform that has been around since Timmy and his garage band decided to start playing Led Zepplin songs in his parents' basement with the goal of loosening the panties of the neighborhood girls. Even though most of the work writing the songs was already done by rock gods in leather pants, Timmy and his band sounded like utter crap and the neighborhood girls left their concert to get drunk at the football field with the jocks. Any music enthusiast worth their salt knows how those girls felt.
My big little sister's eyes flash red anytime you mention Jaime Cullum's cover of Radiohead's "High and Dry." The Manfriend gnashes his teeth and snarls at the thought of The Used and My Chemical Romance laying their lily white fingers on Queen/David Bowie's "Under Pressure," and you better clear the room if anyone mentions The Wallflowers and "Heroes." Sometimes the songs we love are raped by other musicians, and that is a hard truth we will have to learn to accept. The best thing to do is to just bury your head in a pillow and scream "Go away!" until you can't hear the desecration anymore.
But sometimes, just once in a while, a musician will cover one of your favorite songs and IT'S JUST AS GOOD, HOW CAN THIS BE? Or better yet, a musician will take a SHITASTIC song and make it AWESOME. Oh, didn't we all revel in being able to sing along to "Hit Me Baby One More Time" without a quern of guilt around our necks because Scottish band Travis made it deliciously guilt-free? This is what we're here to celebrate: some of the most excellent of excellent covers.
Requirements for a Great Cover The song is still listenable: If you can't stand to listen to the song, whether it's a cover or not, it isn't great on any level. The Musician injects some of their distinct flavor into the song: Anyone (who isn't tone-deaf) can sing a song just like the original singer. That's BORING. It may sound competent, but there isn't anything new there, so who the hell cares? Some of the best covers turn the song upside down, imbue it with new meaning, or are pulled from completely opposite genres: I have a treat for you a little later.
So, here are some of my favorites. What are some of yours?
The Divine Comedy (Neil Hannon) and Yann Tiersen cover David Bowie's "Life on Mars"
Oh my crap kids, some exciting things have been percolating in the cinematic world while I wasn't looking! And here I thought that all I had to look forward to was the next Harry Potter movie!
I went onto Trailer Addict to see what was new and ended up spending an hour watching trailers. I literally had to tear myself away and go for a walk around the house to be able to sit down and write this review. Golly!
First up, Disney, for the first time in, what, 10 years? is making an actual animated movie, with only limited use of computers! And look at them act like it ain't even a thing that they took what looked like an indefinite hiatus from an artform they helped pioneer, not to mention that their core audience has no idea about The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, and has only heard rumors about The Lion King late at night while they were tucked into bed and the grownups were talking down the hallway.
To be honest, I'm not completely in love with this, BUT, I am intrigued by the bayou setting, the voodoo doctor villain, and the sweet little animated touches that make me sigh wistfully for Disney days long lost to economics (note the gator playing various instruments; how much did you love The Rescuers? Possibly not as much as me.) And really, aren't we just slightly excited that SOMEONE at Disney noticed that there wasn't a whole lot of animating going on and decided to do something about it?
The Princess and the Frog Dec. 25, 2009
However, it pretty much looks like drunk mimes with broken legs in comparison to the holy grail of computer animation's newest project.
UpMay 29, 2009
Now, if you're like me, you often find yourself wondering over a hot skillet full of scrambled eggs and sausage, "I wonder what Michael Keaton is up to?" Then you pour your orange juice and chuckle over several of the scenes in Beetlejuice and sigh wistfully over how Batman should have totally hooked up with Catwoman on a more permanent basis, all the while blocking out anything to do with Jack Frost or White Noise.
Good news everybody! Mr. Keaton is back on the playing field in the upcoming college version of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Post Grad, and this gorgeous little gem. Honestly, I could sit and listen to Kelly Macdonald's accent for DAYS, and it's been a while since the newsboy hat looked so...appropriate.
The Merry Gentleman May 1, 2009 Starring Michael Keaton, Kelly Macdonald, Tom Bastounes Directed by Michael Keaton(!)
A little bit ago, I was somehow directed to a gay film site, and ran across this little gem. We probably won't see this ever, at least not until we have a drunken Ladies Night double-feature pairing this with Twilight, but I'm intrigued with this well-shot and well-costumed film that is "a nice-looking but self-conscious trifle that captures only glimpses of its subject's genius" (Brian Juergens, www.afterelton.com). Though for the life of me, I couldn't get the phrase "I doubt your commitment to the sparkle motion" out of my head.
Little Ashes May 8, 2009 Starring Javier Beltran, Robert Pattinson, Matthew McNulty Directed by Paul Morrison
On the international front, these two films look directly up my beloved film teacher's alley.
Revanche tells the tragic tale of an ex-con working as an assistant in a brothel in Vienna who decides that robbing a bank is the best way to escape poverty with his Ukranian hooker girlfriend, crossing paths with a cop and his rural housewife. It was nominated for an Oscar this year, but I pretty much ignored the Oscars because they regularly piss me off. Daily language lesson: revanche is French for "revenge." The more you know!
Revanche May 1, 2009 Starring Johannes Krisch, Irina Potapenko, Andreas Lust Written and directed by Götz Spielmann
Out of the UK is Helen: An 18 year old girl called Joy has gone missing. Another girl called Helen is a few weeks away from leaving her care home. Helen is asked to play Joy in a police reconstruction that will retrace her last known movements. Joy had everything. A loving family, a boyfriend, a bright future. Helen, parentless, has lived in institutions all her life and has never been close to anyone. Gradually Helen begins to immerse herself into the role, visiting the people and places that Joy knew; quietly and carefully insinuating her way into the lost girl's life. But is Helen trying to find out what happened to Joy that day, or is she searching for her own identity? (traileraddict.com)
I'm interested to see this, however, the review on imdb.com said that it doesn't live up to its promise. But you know, people have different standards.
Helen May 1, 2009 Starring Annie Townsend Written and directed by Joe Lawlor and Christine Molloy
Some interesting documentaries I came across:
The Garden chronicles the fight between inner-city LA residents fighting a corrupt city official to keep their community garden open. This looks really good, and I already want to know how the conflict resolves.
The GardenMay 1, 2009
The Transcendent Man introduces the life and philosophy of Ray Kurzweil, a genius multi-millionaire who predicts that man will one day merge with machines to complete the next evolutionary step. He walks the line between brilliant and crazy, and I suppose one could really see it either way. And yes, William Shatner, we want you to live forever, too.
The Transcendent Man May 1, 2009
Speaking of crazy futuristic conceptions, this movie looks SO GOOD. I'm not going to spoil it for you, just watch the trailer.
District 9 August 14, 2009 Written and Directed by Neill Blomkamp
All right, now, if you're still with me, listen hard. Even if you haven't watched any of the other trailers I put on here, WATCH THIS ONE. I broke out into the girliest squeals, THE GIRLIEST OF SQUEEKING AND SQUALLING, watching this trailer. I just about fainted from all the things that I love that are in this movie. 1.) DANIEL DAY-LEWIS. Oh my god. I love him so hard. 2.) The director of Chicago. Don't know if I mentioned HOW MUCH I LOVE CHICAGO, but BOY HOWDY, DO I. 3.) Dancing, singing, SPECTACLE (not the kind you put on your nose to see clearly) 4.) Dame Judy Dench. She's so awesome, and so British, and she is Ian McKellen's favorite fag-hag. 5.) SOPHIA GOL' DANGED LOREN
Goddamn, this looks so good, I might have peed a little. A vibrant and provocative musical that follows the life of world famous film director Guido Contini (Daniel Day-Lewis) as he reaches a creative and personal crisis of epic proportion, while balancing the numerous women in his life including his wife (Marion Cotillard), his mistress (Penelope Cruz), his film star muse (Nicole Kidman), his confidant and costume designer (Judi Dench), an American fashion journalist (Kate Hudson), the whore from his youth (Fergie) and his mother (Sophia Loren). The film is directed by Rob Marshall (CHICAGO). The original 1982 Broadway production of Nine, with music and lyrics by Maury Yeston, won five Tony Awards including Best Musical. (traileraddict.com)
I...I really enjoy musicals.
Nine November 25, 2009 Starring Daniel Day-Lewis, Judy Dench, Penelope Cruz, Marion Cotillard, Nicole Kidman, Kate Hudson Directed by Rob Marshall
My good pal Jeremy as Captain Marvel for FREE COMIC BOOK DAY. He only made my sister stay up until 9 am to finish the costume.
Behold! The power of SPANDEX!
The sad thing? HE DID NOT GET THAT ADORABLE BARMAID'S NUMBER. Jeremy, have we taught you nothing in the years that we've known each other? You ALWAYS get the cute barmaid's number! No excuses!
And yes, we are the kind of adults that like to occasionally play dress-up, usually when it is specifically called for, though I wouldn't put it past Jeremy to just one day show up at the mall dressed like this and shop for shoes.
