The Old Shack Review

The Lives of Others

2009-06-16T20:01:00.000-07:00

Remember the Cold War, kids? Sure you do! Long before the Axis of Evil and the Patriot Act became the catchwords concerned with our national security (or lack thereof), an equally sinister threat to the American Way came from behind that place called the Iron Curtain. The memories of the Berlin Wall, missile buildups, and Mikhail Gorbachev's port wine stain on his bald head may be fleeting memories to most people today, but to a couple of generations the looming presence of Moscow's Evil Empire was felt on the veritable battlegrounds of military installations, diplomatic board rooms, and Olympic hockey rinks.

For millions of people, the Cold War was an inescapable, nonnegotiable reality that pervaded most, if not all, parts of their lives. Imagine a world where every action and word of yours is potentially under scrutiny by the powers that be. It's not George Orwell's 1984, it's Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck's The Lives of Others. Set in 1980s East Germany, Gerd Wiesler is an officer in the Communist secret police who leads a distinguished, if humdrum, existence serving the ruling regime. He is called yet again to wiretap the apartment of the playwright Georg Dreyman, who is suspected of having pro-Western sympathies. Yet this will turn to be simply more than just another procedural operation too ostensibly ensure the integrity of the regime. Wiesler soon finds out that his work is driven by corruption and lustful self-interest from higher-ups. Moreover, in the midst of his surveillance, Wiesler finds himself moved as never before by Dreyman's very character and tastes in art and music. No longer is the police captain a cog in the machine, slowly sleepwalking his way to retirement; art has awakened him to his own humanity and of the world around him. Wiesler soon makes a dangerous choice that will not only jeopardize his work and future security, but also those he silently vows to protect.

This is a classic cat-and-mouse film for diehard suspense freaks. It is a heartpounding pursuit that is driven not by the Hollywood formula of explosions and car chases, but of good old-fashioned strategic chess moves and subtle emotional tides. Alas, it literally had me on the edge of my seat. Ulrich Muhe is equal parts coldly efficient and heartwrenching as Wiesler, his last major role before his untimely death. Sebastian Koch also stands out as the noble, sophisticated Dreyman. For a true thriller that the Bourne series would envy, peer into this dramatized look of our not-so-distant history. This modern fable's moral may well be that love, beauty, and creativity always triumph at the end of the day, even in a paranoia-rife Iron Curtain.

Dexter

2009-03-25T21:31:00.001-07:00

My nights have been filled with serial killer empathy as of late.

Leave it to Showtime's Dexter to provide television with a new plot and rendering you've never seen before: Dexter, a serial killer cast as a sociopath, complete with a growing sense of self and feeling and a hot borderline girl to battle with.

In Dexter we meet a serial killer trying to find out his past and discover the meaning of life in the self-titled offering from Showtime. In it's third season, "Dexter" presents psychologically complex characters who challenge perhaps the last outposts of diametrical presented "evil," at least in American Culture.

Dexter's one true virtue, honesty, is the source of the characterization. The writers take us into the struggle of a sociopath, haunted by a repressed path and living by an external code, the "code of Harry," provided by his father as a means of survival and a way to kill killers who are able to evade the law. The inner life of Dexter is provided by a first-person narrator, commenting on scenes much like Ron Howard does in the newly resurrected Arrested Development . Though I don't subscribe to Showtime, I highly recommend the DVD series as it is fascinating, challenging, original, and well done. Can't wait for Season Three to come out.

Old Man

Song Review: Mother Mother's "O My Heart"

2009-03-25T11:27:00.000-07:00

A Seattle friend slipped me this c.d. over the winter break, telling me he'd seen them play in New York and was blown away by their musicianship and killer harmonies. Mother Mother's brand of rock defies immediate comparison: it is some of the most aggressive, in your face powerpop I have ever heard. Perhaps they sound a bit like Queen would if they sang about Harley Davidsons instead of bicycles.

"O My Heart" is the strongest track on the album, tells the story of someone trying to throw their heart out but having it keep coming back in more and more hideous versions. "My heart is a fish out water and it bakes in the bad sun/ oh my heart, it's a roof in the straw in the jaw of el nino."

I love the risks Mother Mother is willing to make - extended metaphors are rare in rock music, and rarely are they done with such panache and a such a blow torch of power. A debut album from Vancouver B.C. worth checking out.

Old Man

John Moessner: "Welcome to the Johngle"

2009-03-22T18:05:00.000-07:00

Nashville’s got a brand new offering unlike anything I’ve heard from Tennessee: No, it’s not silky smooth American Idol pseudo-country or more contemporary Christian blather, it’s powerpop that would make John Vanderslice pick up the phone. Pull the curtains, enter John Moessner.

John Vanderslice may be a good comparison. “Welcome to the Johngle” is the first offering from a Tennessee native who, like Vanderslice, runs his own studio and uses his knob turning agility and ample instrumentation to bolster his low-fi tenor. What comes out is something between Brian Wilson , Jellyfish, and Sufjan Stevens .

Orchestral pop has made a comeback over the last few years, and there are a lot of messy underproduced jumbles of emotion out their trying to be the next Bon Iver . It’s nice to hear someone who is willing to use a few dozen instruments and spend the time and effort to make them sound good.

Moessner’s voice is reminiscient of Steven Page (Barenaked Ladies) – a band that I personally can’t stand thanks to a college roommate who would exclusively listen to, on principle, the Bare Naked Ladies or Jimmy Buffett. Nothing else. (Thanks Brian, wherever you are). So John had an uphill battle to win me over. But diamonds like “My First Attempt, ” “For the Boy, ” (written for his son), and my personal favorite, “Is The Universe Friendly?” , Moessner’s mix of unabashed love songs, tongue in cheek lyrics, and Sgt. Pepper orchestrations make me happy.

I could see this album getting picked up by an indie label somewhere and getting some traction on college radio. Until then, let me announce it: Welcome to the Johngle.

Old Man

Time Capsule Review: John Denver

2009-03-21T07:21:00.000-07:00

Have you ever listened to John Denver? I mean really listened to him?
I know: his sweet country boy faced has launched a thousand infomercials, a few Sesame Street episodes, and more than one child to name their dog Lassie.

On your next morning commute, pretend J.D. didn’t blow up into some sort of caricature of himself and instead pretend your friend just gave you a demo c.d. of a new band from the Midwest. Then listen to these five tracks: “Leaving on a Jet Plane ,” Take Me Home, Country Roads, ” “Rocky Mountain High, ” and “Thank God I’m a Country Boy .” (I’ll spare you “Sunshine on My Shoulders” – you must have something to work towards). Tell me it isn’t phenomenal, tell me you don’t want to listen to it again, and tell me you don’t start to hear a dozen or so immensely famous artists and a hundred indie ones who would never admit being influenced by him but obviously, unmistakably, are.

I’ll be the first to start the list: Listen to the way he says “your door” on “Leaving on a Jet Plane” then listen to way Jeremy Enigk says “your door” on "Explain " from Return of the Frog Queen.

Old Man

The Stills "Oceans Will Rise"

2009-03-20T19:10:00.001-07:00

Anyone who's had the hubris to be around me long enough knows I have a fondness for most things Montreal, thanks to a summer school term spent frolicking there: summer jazz festivals, smoked meat sandwiches, Mordecai Richler novels, and even those dearly departed Expos, amongst other things. But what about Montreal's vibrant music scene, you ask? This is, after all, a metropolis on par with Seattle, Austin, etc., having spawned such acts as Stars, The Arcade Fire , The Dears, and Corey Hart (he of "Sunglasses at Night" fame; just checking to see if you were paying attention).

Add The Stills to this impressive list. It was with excitement that I spotted their latest release, Oceans Will Rise, on a trip to my friendly record store. My first thought after looking at the gilded skull on the cover went something like, "Have Tim Fletcher and company gone metal on us?" Fear not, Stills faithful, the band are still the Stills (a little gratuitous alliteration there, I know) you've known and loved. It may not be Pantera, but it brings an energy all its own that I haven't heard on previous releases.

What I loved about The Stills' debut release, Logic Will Break Your Heart , was the detached sense of melancholy that permeated the album from end to end. There was a sonic bittersweet hollowness for LWBYH which lent itself well towards the overall tone of the album. On Oceans Will Rise, Fletcher and company still do their thing with wistful crooning about all things heartbreak and angst. This time, it packs a healthy punch, and with a dose of optimism to boot! Witness the single "Being Here," a soaring anthem that proclaims triumph through the road of tribulation. It's that kind of tune that makes you want to floor it in your droptop while speeding down the PCH on a sundrenched day. "Everything I Build" is a sweet number, with its soothingly pulsing rhythm and Fletcher's heartfelt delivery, while "Eastern Europe" is another energetic track whose relative freneticism emphatically signals the band's emergence from its melodramatic roots. Granted, there are a couple of duds like "Rooibos/Palm Wine Drinkard" and "Statue of Sirens" that seem to deserve their position bringing up the rear of the album. But overall, this is an inspired release: oceans will rise and the Stills will still make their music, but with an invigorating twist.

Between sending in my ballot early and writing this piece, I could use a smoked brisket sandwich on rye with a pickle right now. Too bad Schwartz's on Blvd. St. Laurent doesn't deliver.

Platypus

Film Review - "The X-Files: I Want To Believe"

2008-08-12T08:06:00.000-07:00

“A for Effort with a C- Grade”
by Little August

About a year ago I was somewhat sadly enclosing the last X-Files series DVD in its Netflix envelope for its trip back to the sorting facility. I had spent about a year on-and-off watching every episode in sequence from start to finish and although it was a lengthy nine seasons of hour-long episodes, I felt smug in my sci-fi nerd state.

So you could imagine my surprise and outburst of joy that I would only truly feel confident expressing in the secluded confines of my own four walls when hours later I found out that Chris Carter was moving forward with a long-awaited X-Files movie. A new movie! Six years after the TV show’s demise! I was oh so close to writing Mr. Carter a letter thanking him for his gutsy move.

And creating this movie, based on a TV series that started in 1993 and eventually fizzled out, was ballsy. Sure, it’s still considered one of the most popular TV series of all time, but there is a perceived gap in the worlds between then and now. Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully belong in the zeitgeist of the Clinton-era ‘90s, and their presence in 2008 at times resembled two ghosts recalled for a séance. Like in Beetlejuice when Adam and Barbara are reconstructed in their wedding clothes in front of the eager crowd who truly wanted the appearance yet quickly turn sour on the idea. Even at the film’s opening when Mulder and Scully walk past a framed picture of George W. Bush, the all-too-familiar X-Files theme by Mark Snow indicates that these are indeed odd times, and the agents expressions are classic as they seem to say to each other, “what the hell are we doing here?”.

The movie’s effort continues as it incorporates a few complex character situations into the creepy plot, such as Billy Connolly’s, Father Joe, who becomes a character of sympathy even though he has a history of child molestation in the church. The film’s themes of redemption and forgiveness even amongst the worst atrocities are a refreshing treat for those of us who came expecting to see FBI agents blowing away aliens and getting sprayed by their flesh-melting green fizzy blood.

David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson post solid acting performances, dropping superbly into the roles of their characters who first graced our TV screens 15 years ago. These actors didn’t skip a beat in reassuming these classic roles that belong together in our collective psyche as an indelible mark of pop culture. The energy between the actors benefits from countless hours of character development, and this movie, which takes place in the present day, does quite the job of seamlessly depicting these characters as they would be six years after we left them.

Unfortunately the energy of Mulder and Scully and the herculean effort to reunite the actors and revive their world was not reflected in the overall plot or story flow. This movie is just ok. I would rank it as a somewhat strong episode of the iconic television series, but it unfortunately did not live up to the pent-up expectations after six years of waiting.

There was just too much that was different than my cherished TV X-Files. One example is found in the title of the movie: there are no “X-Files” in the point in time where the movie takes place. Sure, the show evolved from “monster of the day” scenarios to a more intricate character development plot over the years, but the exciting continuity of the show was that Mulder and Scully were assigned to the X-Files. Yes, the literal files: cases of the unexplained that covered the paranormal. Aliens, ghosts, monsters, freaks, you name it, the X-Files covered it. Mulder and Scully were FBI agents who researched these cases and got to look like badasses busting down doors, gun and flashlight in hand, frantically searching the room for God-knows-what. In this movie, our heroes are no longer FBI agents. Scully is a doctor and Mulder is a Unibomber-esque bearded mountain man spinning conspiracies when we first reencounter him. But neither are FBI. They are asked to help the FBI, but come on, that just doesn’t cut it.

It would have been great to pick up on the lives of Agents John Doggett and Monica Reyes (Robert Patrick and Annabeth Gish), who on the TV series were cast into an awkward situation to fill in for Mulder and Scully, who were increasingly not on the show. These characters could have sustained the show on their own, past the stories of Mulder and Scully, but unfortunately they do not appear in the film. Instead, we are introduced to new characters, agents Dakota Whitney (Amanda Peet) and Mosley Drummy (Xzibit), whose presence in the film is uninspiring and unneeded.

There are good character additions to counter-balance this, however. For example the “bad guy” in it has a truly great, creepy, gruesome situation that is as good as any other X-Files monster (I won’t give it away). The best moment of the film by far is the reintroduction of Assistant Director Walter Skinner (Mitch Pileggi). Yes, that’s A.D. Skinner to you fans. This guy is a total badass, and his presence in the film is commanding. There were more than a few imperial storm trooper nerds in the crowd that uttered yelps of joy when he came onto the screen.

So what is the outcome of this effort to reunite the X-Files cast and resurrect the franchise? I’d give it a “so-so,” or a C-. And I hate to say that. I wish I could say this was one of the best movies of the summer because it was such a fantastic TV show that, for the fans, could have kept going longer than the 9 seasons we were given. In this case, I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe that this would be the definitive showboat glass-shattering slam dunk that would put an explanation point on the series. Instead, I got a lengthy episode that was mostly lukewarm.

I still want to thank Chris Carter and the actors for making this movie, even though it didn’t live up to the fans’ hype. And I’m not recommending that you don’t see this movie in the theaters. This sort of effort needs to be rewarded.

New Song Review: "Violet Hill" by Coldplay

2008-08-06T18:43:00.000-07:00

by Old Man

I am finally a Coldplay fan. It took me this long...and I can tell you why: 1) The lack of diversity in songwriting. 2) Lack of lyrical sophistication. "Viva la Vida" has both.

This album finally fulfills the potential of Coldplay - I predict this will go down as their "Joshua Tree ," which essentially means non-esoteric music lovers will find it the start of a beautiful friendship and reviewers from highbrow websites like Pitchfork will try their best to distance themselves. Here is my favorite song - but not by far, as there are a lot of gems - on the album.

Violet Hill

"Was a long and dark December, from the rooftops I remember there was snow, white snow
Clearly I remember from the windows they were watching while we froze down below

When the future's architectured by a carnival of idiots on show you'd better lie low
If you love me won't you let me know?

Was a long and dark December when the banks became cathedrals and the fox, became God
Priests clutched onto bibles hollowed out to fit their rifles and the cross was held aloft

Bury me in armor when I’m dead and hit the ground my love's opposed but unfolds
If you love me won't you let me know?

I don't want to be a soldier who the captain of some sinking ship would stow, far below
So if you love me why'd you let me go?

I took my love down to violet hill there we sat in the snow
All that time she was silent still

So if you love me won't you let me know?
If you love me, won't you let me know?"

Chris Martin and friends have written a wonderfully complex song that manages to critique the Bush administration and conservative power base (FOX becomes a God - he owns up to that reference in the Rolling Stone interview) without sounding, well, boring. Every rock musician on the planet who wants to make a living seems to be liberal - as if there job depended on it. But Martin doesn't sacrifice the conservative nation it's dignity and soul in the process of his critiques, and begs them like he begs his lover "If you love me, won't you let me know."

I think, from Martin's perspective, a gesture of love, of compassion, of embrace could go a long way. Sure, from his perspective, in our country money may be God and our president may be the de facto Pope (though i think that's a big stretch) and the church may be too uninvolved in the decision for or against the war, but his questions ultimately remains one from a lover to him. Do you love me? Do you? Show it.

Film Review - "Up the Yangtze"

2008-08-06T17:46:00.000-07:00

by Platypus

As the Summer Olympics begin in Beijing this weekend, the world's spotlight focuses on China, a nation that is steeped in plenty of history, intrigue, and controversy. Today, China faces a quandary of opposites: reconciling its incredible growth as economic, political, and technological superpower with issues such as preserving its heritage, human rights, and the utter poverty that most of its citizens still endure. The Three Gorges Dam project along the Yangtze river is a case study of this clash. As the world's largest hydroelectric generating plant, it has long been championed by the Chinese government as a backbone for China's progress, yet has also become a lightning rod for debate due to its potential environmental effects and the displacement of millions of people who live along the Yangtze's banks, amongst other concerns.

Chinese-Canadian director Yung Chang's new documentary, Up the Yangtze, attempts to put a human face on this controversy. It loosely follows the story of Yu Shui, a girl from a poor farming family who will soon be displaced from their patch of land along the Yangtze. Unable to afford her high school tuition, Yu's family sends her to work on one of the many Western-oriented cruise boats that sail the mighty river. As we follow Yu on her journey, we are also taken on a journey of the Yangtze and its many contrasts. Ostentatious glitz and Western affluence clash with the stark poverty of most locals. The protests of displaced laborers coincide with the nervous attempts of tour operators and government officials to convince Westerners that nothing is wrong. The beauty of the gorges collides head-on with the monstrous presence of cranes and skyscrapers that are quickly flooding its banks in more ways than one.

Despite the fact that this is a documentary, Yung Chang's narration is sparse and unobtrusive, leaving the viewer to sit with his own musings and develop his own opinions of this complex issue. The cinematography is simply stunning, capturing the many sides of the river and its inhabitants in rich detail. Watching this film may provoke the thought: what is progress?, and, if this is progress, then do its costs negate that? No doubt, these are questions that will continue to be asked of China as it hurtles headlong into the 21st century. As the Chinese nation speeds onward, Up the Yangtze may provide you with a glimpse of China you've never seen - or may never see again.

Book Review - "The Question of God: C.S. Lewis and Sigmund Freud Debate God, Love, Sex, and the Meaning of Life" by Armand M. Nicholi Jr.

2008-07-30T11:56:00.000-07:00

by Old Man

Whenever a book is reviewed over 50 times on Amazon.com you know it has caused some controversy - enter Harvard Professor Armand M. Nicholi Jr.'s book that stemmed from an undergrad course he taught entitled "The Question of God: C.S. Lewis and Sigmund Freud debate God, Love, Sex, and the Meaning of Life." This book sets up an imaginary debate between the two heralds of the two dominate mutually exclusive worldviews (God or No-God) - Freud and Lewis. Freud, though most famous for his psychological work, also wrote extensively in philosophical branch of literature - specifically his books "Moses and Monotheism" and "The Future of an Illusion." Lewis, probably most famous for his children's books on "Narnia," also wrote and spoke extensively in favor of his theistic and then Christian views in books like "Mere Christianity" and "Screwtape Letters."

The debate sets well, as much of Freud's (who is a generation earlier than Lewis) philosophy was in vogue at Oxford and Cambridge when Lewis was a tutor and professor - so much of his Christian apologetic work is a response to Freud's thoughts. Freud's influence was ever present in Lewis's work, and even on a few occasions he references his arguments directly.

Where this book sets itself apart is the inclusion of biographical material to color the thinking of both of the individuals. While other books focus primarily on the thinking of the two - discussing the plausibility of God being real - which, if you have read a few on either side - tend to lean pretty heavy on empirical evidense that is mounted firmly on enlightenment thinking which rests on the belief that things can be proved - when both sides both admit "proof" is not really possible in trying to prove God's existence or inexistence.

I tend to be a fan of old sayings like "the proof is in the pudding" and "actions speak louder than words" - simply because in our dualistic enlightenment age we tend to seperate thoughts from actions way to readily. This divorce is purely a mechanism of our imaginations. You don't need to be a mental giant to figure out that 80% of communication is physical. So I find it fascinating that the vast majority of our literature involving metaphysics has no "physical" to it.

So this book is great in this: We don't just get to know the thoughts of Freud and Lewis, we in a sense get to know Freud and Lewis, and their thoughts get a context that I think gives this book so much power. Nicholi Jr. says that he is unbiased in his writing - and many have taken potshots at this proposition because by the end of the book, the argument leans heavily in favor of Lewis. And I can see how people could make that argument.

But at the same time - I wonder if there was a way that he could have written an honest book about these two and have Freud come out as the nicer, more joyful, more secure, more self-assured, and more free? I don't think it would be possible...where Freud and Lewis were both great thinkers, Lewis was a great live-er. The reality is that given a night to spend with these two giants - I'd much rather have a drink with Lewis and his friends than Freud.

If you are interested in a good read that will challenge your assumptions about God and about Lewis and Freud - this book would be worth picking up.

Film Review - "The Dark Knight"

2008-07-24T11:03:00.000-07:00

by von Richthofen

The Dark Knight takes the entire comic book movie genre, grabs it by the neck and careens full force off the tracks. Equal parts thriller, action movie, crime drama, romance, and horror film, this movie does more than set the bar high for all comers. It snaps the bar in half. Free of the restraints of telling an origin story, The Dark Knight explores all new territory. I'll keep my review spoiler free even though knowing FAR too much about the film going in did nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for what I saw.

Picking up where Batman Begins left off, The Dark Knight finds Batman rounding up the scores of punks and lowlifes that have been plaguing Gotham City. Batman wannabes in homemade costumes have begun to emulate his tactics. The unrest serves as a perfect backdrop to the new alliance made between Batman, Police Lt. James Gordon, and new Gotham District Attorney Harvey Dent. The trio form an uneasy but solid partnership to take down the remaining elements of organized crime in Gotham by targeting their bank activity and cutting off their funds. Refusing to go quietly, the mobsters agree to a last ditch effort to cause chaos and anarchy in the highest levels of government led by a quiet lunatic who calls himself the Joker.
We also find Bruce Wayne at another crossroads in his quest to retire the cape and cowl and settle into a quiet life with his childhood best friend and love Rachel Dawes. But Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal who is a huge upgrade on Katie Whatsherface) refuses to wait for Wayne to give up his secret life and begins a serious relationship with Harvey Dent. Still, her feelings for Bruce are strong enough to give her pause.

Director Christopher Nolan clearly found every flaw in Batman Begins and eradicated them from The Dark Knight. The pacing is fantastic. The editing is flawless. CGI? It is so sparse and well done that you won't notice a single moment on screen. The colors of Gotham City are muted. Thanks to lots of location filming in Chicago and Hong Kong, nothing looks staged. The story is never overly complex or hard to follow. Each character is given enough screen time to develop, each story is realized to completion. The music holds the tension at a fever pitch throughout. Visually, the movie is a clear homage to Michael Mann's crime drama Heat. Especially the bank heist opening scene. The cinematography is heightened by Nolan's decision to shoot several key sequences in IMAX (it's not just for National Geographic you know).

Nolan is not afraid to question Batman's heroic status. Do we really agree with his methods? Do we feel safe having justice dispensed by a masked vigilante whose real identity is shrouded in questionable mystery?
Contrary to other reviews I have read, Heath Ledger doesn't steal the show. His performance is beyond stellar. Rather, it is because of the totality of Christopher Nolan's rock-solid casting that Ledger is able to move in and out of scenes in a reptilian manner. His facial expressions are so nuanced and effortless that you really forget that you are seeing Heath Ledger at all. One moment he is a cackling psychopath bent on utter chaos and the next moment he is playing it straight and direct. Ledger's Joker bares no resemblance to Jack Nicholson, Cesar Romero, or any other incarnation. He truly has no boundaries, no motivation, and no story arch. I love that Nolan chose not to explain the Joker. The only glimpses into his past are recounted by the Joker himself in a misguided attempt to connect with his victims. Even when the movie gets incredibly heavy, Ledger interjects humor and levity. The laughs are well placed and always much needed.

Aaron Eckhart is phenomenal as Harvey Dent in what will certainly be his first of many star-turns. Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine are perfect in their respective roles as Bruce Wayne's moral support system. Gary Oldman's Jim Gordon plays a grizzled realist counterpoint to Eckhart's optimist Dent. And Bale shifts seamlessly between spoiled playboy and troubled hero.

This movie will leave you unsettled. Ledger's tragic death may play some role in this. It is a shame that we will never know where else Ledger could take the character. If he doesn't win the Oscar, I'll cease to care about the stupid things. For me, it was the constant moral tug of war that held my attention. I got completely lost in the proceedings.

Nolan's decision to leave it all on the screen is rewarded in what I now regard as the greatest comic book adaptation of all time. It is clear that he had no thoughts of developing any plotlines that "needed" to be resolved at a later date. If a trilogy is in the offing, The Dark Knight will undoubtedly go down as it's defining moment.

Album Review: Chuck Prophet "Soap and Water" - (8.9/10)

2008-07-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

By Platypus

Chuck Prophet . Few other things bring a consistent smirk to my face. Well, maybe the thought of that goggled LA Lakers stalwart Kurt Rambis flailing for a loose ball does, but really, few other things do. I mean, how can you not smile at hearing a name that smacks of comic absurdity? It's a strange dichotomy: take a solid, aw shucks first name and pair it with a surname that speaks to a profession of grave biblical proportions. I'm not dogging the man; far from it. I'm more surprised that I didn't get wind of this Bay Area-based former frontman of Green on Red until this past winter, when I caught a show of his on a tip from a family friend. As they say, the rest was history: the Prophet had spoken his wisdom as he has for the better part of the past two decades, and the gospel came in the form of good old rock and roll.

Listening to Prophet's latest release, Soap and Water, brought this understated thought to mind: it rocks. Like the title implies, the album by and large is clean and simple, a showcase of the singer-songwriter-rocker's bread and butter. Lyrics and guitar riffs resound clear and true, accompanied by drums, bass, and touches of keys and backing vocals in just the right places. Though the lyrics often speak of heartbreak and wanderlust, Prophet's storytelling abilities lend his narratives an honest, endearing quality that made me often feel like I was listening to the man himself have a jam session on some small town front porch. This, folks, in many ways is American rock pure and true, unsullied by the gratuitous production fixings that seem to be everpresent in every other release today.

Yet for all its goodness, Chuck Prophet has always remained a performer who has successfully eluded being put into that proverbial box. The album is a journey through the many flavors of the ice cream parlor that is rock, taking scoops out of the blues ("A Woman's Voice" , "Small Town Girl" ), R&B tinged rock ("Freckle Song" ), new wave ("I Can Feel Your Heartbeat" ), and even some down-home, knee-slapping grooves ("Downtime" ) at various turns, all bound together by Prophet's voice that for some might evoke Tom Petty-esque comparisons. (As an aside, when I first saw Prophet he reminded me of a dorky version of the man who last danced with Mary Jane , cardigan and all. But I digress; he is indeed his own man, all apologies to Mr. Petty.)

Dare I venture to say that Chuck Prophet belongs in the pantheon of great musicians a la Dylan, Cash, and Springsteen that have graced the musical fabric of our nation? Some of you might say that's a bit of a stretch, but I said it, so there. I don't know how better to qualify this, but after taking a spin through Soap and Water again yesterday I was struck by the thought that this is a little bit of America right here. Not America in the sense of flag waving and nationalistic chest-beating, mind you, but America in the sense of telling stories of lives lived as they are, for better or worse. Soap and Water is a good clean romp in this department, product of a man and his craft. Take a dive in: you just may find yourself converted to the way of Chuck Prophet.

Album Review - Vampire Weekend (7.5/10)

2008-07-10T13:08:00.001-07:00

This is my wife's new favorite album . She says it reminds her of Paul Simon's "Graceland" only more whimsical. I think it reminds me of XTC doing the wedding band circuit. Either way, the common denominator in all the bands songs on its first album are fun. Pure saccharine fun.

We had some friends over to dinner, who have a young 3 year old, and I was suprised at how well this album played with a youngster. Having children around makes you hyper aware of the mood of the music, and having darker, brooding music playing with a little one in the room always seems awkward. But Vampire Weekend could make an appearance on Sesame Street as easily as SXSW, even though they drop the occasional barely discernable F-bomb.

Come January, February, this album may be a little too over the top. But the sun is shining, the surfboard's on the rack, and I don't want to think about, well, anything. Here's to this summer's positive alternative to doing drugs.

Song Review - Sufjan Stevens "That Was The Worst Christmas Ever!"

2008-07-10T12:57:00.000-07:00

By Old Man

Both my father and I believe this is an incredible song. I have a remarkable Dad, he is one of those rare baby-boomers who has not simply stayed in the 60's and 70's classic rock, but has kept on listening to contemporary rock all the way through the present times. Do you know any 63 year old men who owned the new Modest Mouse album before you did?

Sufjan Stevens is one of the finest songwriters of Generation X. His Christmas album (now a few years old) is one of the few albums that does justice to the religious holidays, both of Christ's birth (through old hymns), western civilizations adoption of a whole conglomerations of winter rituals, and the events taking place at the holiday. Holiday albums rarely avoid kitchy remakes for a few bucks, but Stevens take on the holiday is serious and winsome, a celebration and an anticipation of mourning and joy, it is an emotionally real album about a holiday that is mired in escapism.

This song is about the latter - the events of a Christmas day. Whether it is fiction (he earned his MFA in creative writing from the New School in New York) or memoir, it is a touching story of a family that is disturbed from a father's violence during the holiday - the shoveling of snow, sledding, and then the burning of presents followed by the exodus of his sister to the playground. The contrast between the joy of Rie Munoz paintings, children at play in the snow, and the emotions that blow over amidst the reality of time that it is impossible to avoid during Christmas. We all know that Christmas is still sacred as a holiday in our culture, one that still provides an viable excuse for not working in our insistent culture. He opens with a yearning riff on his pet instrument (one of many) the banjo - an instrument that I can remember my father riffing on himself as I was a child, and the background of acoustic guitar and vocal harmonies.

Where does the emotion of this song lay? Music is a universal language, one that can cross all bridges as other languages cannot, and it is rare that the music and lyrics of a song are able to work together towards a true, honest, emotional end. Often pop songwriters play the music off the lyrics, writing opposites in order to create tension - but this song doesn't depend on that sort of display to create complexity - instead in its united simplicity it is able to provide an avenue to feel deeply hurt, joy, pain, and the nostalgia that we all feel in light of the marker of the season. It is impossible to avoid - and this song doesn't skirt it like so many others who treat it as an avenue for financial gain. Let's be honest - in our stoic culture, true felt emotion has found it's last stand, its Alamo, in the arts. And I am thankful for a song that enters into our feelings without the apology or reservation that even has infected affection's last stand - the embattled genre of emo.

"In time the snow will rise, in time the snow will rise / In time the Lord will rise, in time the Lord will rise"

I can't wait for Sufjan's next album. Until then, consider this as an early Christmas present option...

Album Review: Fleet Foxes "Fleet Foxes" - (9/10)

2008-07-04T10:13:00.000-07:00

By Old Man

As is often the case with debut full-lengths that are preceded by E.P.’s – one often sounds like and extension of the other. And, thankfully, this is true with the Fleet Foxes self-titled L.P. put out on Seattle’s Sub-Pop.

As this is our second review of a Fleet Foxes release in a couple of months, I will spare you the details of the band in general and focus more on what they succeed in and what they don’t. Where the E.P. stays firmly in waters navigated by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young – their full length extends into Brian Wilson’s (Beach Boys) area code – this album, while having it’s foundation in folk-rock, is much more buttressed by the “pop” side of Americana.

My highlight of the album is “He Doesn’t Know Why, ” with it’s swirling melody and chord changes and what is a staple of both albums – heavily reverbed background vocals. Beautiful, epic, indulgent, allowing Pecknold’s vocals to soar on the refrain “There’s nothing I can do.” And they are remarkable, his vocals. It is rare that someone is able to be so over-the-top vocally and still find a place in independent music, which tends to be a home for those songwriters who are brainy but less physically gifted and outwardly showy (contrast with American Idol fare, which tends to have folks with extraordinary voices and faces, but with little to nothing to say in their music).

What is scary about this band is that Pecknold could be in American Idol and be the best singer. I predict two, maybe three albums and then he goes solo, ala Bruce Springsteen and the E Street band . “No way, you say, he looks like a hippie!” Well, remember the Boss was a scrappy Bob Dylan wannabe before the band blew up and next thing we knew we were slow dancing to “Tunnel of Love.”

I hope I’m wrong. Until then, I'll thoroughly enjoy their music.

Movie Review: WALL-E (8.5/10)

2008-07-03T22:21:00.000-07:00

By Old Man

My wife and I went with my folks, who were in town, to the one movie theater in Malibu Sunday night and watched Andrew Stanton (Finding Nemo) and Disney’s Pixar Animation Studios (The Incredibles, Cars, and Ratatouille). There were three movies stars with their kids in the theater – always a bit unnerving when you see them in such normal circumstances – you have a moment of recognition and think “I know them from somewhere” and then you realize “Nope, I don’t know them – but I know who they are.” What must it be like to be a movie star? I would be willing to bet they make eye contact with more people than anyone else in the world…probably why they wear sunglasses all the time – I imagine it would be unnerving.

Thus the beauty and freedom of animation. The stars are truly of the imagination, they are drawing come to life on the screen, works of the hand (and mouse) set into motion – at once mimicking those film actors in the theater yet also in a realm all their own. Could an animated character ever be up for Best Actor? Best Supporting Actor? Could a computer animated character (say, Gollum from Lord of the Rings) ever be up for the Best Supporting Oscar? I hope not – but I enjoy the freedom of not having to judge performance, I feel looser watching animated films and not have to be thinking of how well the actors are pulling off their character.

WALL-E was a dandy of a movie, one of those gems that a child could love at the narrative surface level, but also filled with Huxley-esque futurism and a very compelling “what if” that drives the movie and may even cause adult conversation after it’s done. There is even a love story, between robots, and I was embarrassed by how drawn in I became in one of those moments (few) that I snapped out of the hyper-reality of the movie.

I mentioned the Oscars, because never have I seen two robots say so much with so little. Great acting? By animated characters? I hate that I am writing it, but if it looks like a banana, and smells like a banana...

What WALL-E and EVE did put some real, live, flesh-and-blood human actors to shame. I wonder what the film actors in the theater were thinking?

Interview with the Great Lake Swimmer's Tony Dekker

2008-07-03T15:23:00.000-07:00

By Old Man

I got the chance to have a little internet chat with lead singer of one of my personal favorite bands, the Great Lake Swimmers - the focus of a song review I did a couple of months back. Their new album, Ongiara is a gem - my wife and I listened to it while driving through Yosemite and it PLAYED. Oh yes. So here's what Tony has to say:

OM - What are the last 5 albums you’ve listened to on your Ipod/CD Player/Tapedeck/Record Player.

Tony - The Carter Family “1927-1934 – Disc A” , Bob Dylan “Highway 61 Revisited” , Gillian Welch “Time (The Revelator)” , Timber Timbre “Medicinals” , Billy Bragg & Wilco “Mermaid Avenue."

OM - What is the band working on now?

Tony - I’m working on new songs, some of which will probably eventually be taken to the band to work on some more. We are also playing some festivals this summer and doing a short US tour in the Midwest in August.

OM - How are your new projects a departure from previous albums?

Tony - The new projects are really a continuation of what we’ve done to this point. I’m always trying to become more concise.

OM - What is the worst restroom you’ve been in on tour?

Tony - There have been lots of terrible ones, but thankfully none that stick in my mind. Any restroom without locks (or doors for that matter) gets my vote.

OM - What is the oddest request you’ve had from a fan?

Tony - I haven’t received any requests that have seemed that odd to me. I had one fan inform me that he was our stalker. Nice guy actually. We put him on the guest list.

OM - There is a fine sense of place in all of your albums – and a keen awareness of the physical environment. What worries you about the direction of the worlds view of the environment?

Tony - I think we’re too concerned with thinking about the environment as this other thing that is different from what’s all around us. Like the environment is a concern or something. I think we need to regain our respect for it and fear of it.

OM - Western Civilization: Decline, Incline, or Recline?

Tony - Decline.

OM - Your albums all have a spiritual sensitivity to them – what are your theological and philosophical leanings? Any particular thinkers who have influenced your worldview?

Tony - I was raised as Catholic so that is pretty much in the mix whether I like it or not. Rilke, Bukowski, Faulkner, Hemingway, and Salinger are some thinkers that I have been affected by.

OM - What is a common misconception folks have about your music/lyrics?

Tony - I think the lyrics encourage misconceptions. They leave a lot of things open. In a way it takes the listener to do some work on their part to complete the story or apply it. The songs are set up so they can be interpreted in a lot of different ways, and I am certainly in no position to give the final answer on anything.

OM - When do you plan on visiting the west coast again?

Tony - Soon, hopefully next spring.

OM - Thanks Tony, for taking the time to do the interview. We hope to see you next spring!

Song Review: "Don't Steal Our Sun" - The Thrills

2008-06-27T07:30:00.000-07:00

By Old Man

If you've been checking the celebrity wires, or even simply the LA Times, you might have caught some of the tensions coming to a climax in a couple of the surfspots I frequent in Malibu. Not just once, but twice. There is too much comedy, irony, and tragedy in these showdowns between surfers and paparazzi (which I am dubbing Godzilla vs. Mothra I and II) not to point out at least one area of interest in this farce.

Beach ownership. We have a group of twenty white guys (and a girl), beers in hand, go up to the usurper paparazzi crew, looking for some pics of a surfing Matthew McConaughey. They tell them to get off the beach, their beach, and draw a line in the sand. Let's step back: The name of the beach they are on is not in fact Paradise Cove, it is "Dume" - and the city is not LA but Malibu. These are not British names, not Swedish, these are names inherited by the Chumash Tribe, the Native Americans who originally lived there (but probably had different ideas of "private land ownership" than the surfers). Not to mention the Spanish settlers who came next. Never mind that under United States law no one owns the beachfront of which they are speaking - it didn't stop them from basing their claim against the paparazzi on these ideas of ownership. As fellow critic Platypus said to me, "Amazing how the irrational pursuit of a perceived commodity can bring people down to the lowest common denominator."

Which brings me, at long last, to this week's gem, The Thrills "Don't Steal Our Sun" (are you getting the connection?) off of their major label debut So Much For The City. This song, and this album for that matter, are right up my alleyway. The lyrics are solid, covering the posturing and platitudes on which Hollywood rests, and the sugary bubble-gum pop is perfect California surf-pop fare. I would go so far as to say this is the finest So-Cal powerpop single in the last ten years, except for one small matter: The Thrills are from Dublin, Ireland. Now, I am used to having State-side bands use fake British accents for effect, but this is the first I have heard the reverse happening. Part of me bristles, and wants to look down at my sunburned so-cal surfer nose at these guys, but they are SO DAMN GOOD at what they do.

I first heard this song while grabbing some ice cream in Santa Monica with my wife and I couldn't stop listening to it, and went right home and searched for it on I-Tunes and bought the whole album and their next, Teenager , as well.

This is proof that my life is filled with as much irony as anyone else - I love the The Thrills for making So Cal powerpop better than the locals do, and I will lower my pen to the paper and take ownership of land that isn't technically "mine" - and love the feeling of doing both.

Album Review: Weezer - "The Red Album" (8.4/10)

2008-06-19T19:26:00.000-07:00

By von Richthofen

Weezer's third stop on the primary-color-as-album-title wheel could be their last . Not last album per se, but depending on who you ask, red, blue, and green are the only primary colors and Weezer has exploited them to maximum effect.

It could not come at a better moment. Despite nonstop rumors of their demise, Weezer bounces back from the 1-2 punch embarrassments that were "Maladroit" and "Make Believe" . Both of those efforts were bloated stabs at recapturing the charm and pine tree freshness of "The Blue Album". And neither had any of the geek nostalgia that makes "Pinkerton " the greatest "critical failure" album of all time.

My bet is that Rivers Cuomo was able to exorcise some serious song writing demons by releasing "Alone - The Home Recordings of Rivers Cuomo" last year. It silenced those uber-fans that were waiting for Weezer to record proper studio versions of cuts from the epic "Songs From The Black Hole" , a legendary concept album that never saw the light of day. What we do get is one heck of a ride.

Sure, the lead track "Troublemaker" blatantly "lifts" a near-identical guitar line from a classic Weezer song (Pinkerton's "The Good Life"). It isn't the last time that Rivers and Co. borrow from previous gems. It gets lodged in that spot in your brain reserved for pure joy. And if after listening to Track 1 you think that Rivers has crossed the line between silly-fun and just plain ridiculous lyrics, buckle up.

"The Greatest Man That Ever Lived " features pianos, falsettos, Beach Boys harmonies, metal flashes so flashy that you can smell the sweat and leather, and more time signature changes than there are songs on this album. It could be the making of one smelly pile of dog crap in less skilled hands. But if you can accept visions of unraveled sweaters as a legitimate song fodder, nothing on "The Red Album" will shock and awe you.

The boys are having fun, and for the first time in Weezer history, Rivers shares lead vocal duties with each of his other three band members. Letting go of the mic seems to be a natural way for Cuomo to communicate his comfort making music on his own terms. "Heart Songs" serves as a loving tribute not only to Cuomo's personal favorites but to the love of music in general. And when the Brian Bell's guitar line wanders into the familiar refrain of "The World Has Turned And Left Me Here", it doesn't sound contrived. Surely many listeners would include Weezer in their own personal "heart songs".

The missteps are much less noticeable this time. Pushed to background are the slick production tactics of Rick Rubin (who co-produced about half of the record with Weezer), replaced with a much more organic and focused sound. The Cars-esque New Wave dial has been turned down a notch, but Rick Ocasek clearly left his mark. Some may consider the wide ranging stylistic nods to be a failure. Not so for this reviewer who lost interest in the last two albums because they were too much of the same.

Here's to hoping the Weezer considers yellow a primary color. Now, about that mustache.......

Weekly Netflix Pick: "Kingdom of Heaven: The Director's Cut"

2008-06-11T01:03:00.000-07:00

By From The Burn

My recommended queue addition this week is the Ridley Scott epic that should've turned Orlando Bloom into a leading man and rivaled Braveheart and Gladiator as one of the greatest movies of the last 20 years, but instead bombed into oblivion. I know now that the reason it did so was because what was released was the Reader's Digest version, the actual film that Mr. Scott intended would've fulfilled what people were hoping for and then some. After watching The Director's Cut, you'll have mixed emotions because you'll be stoked that you just watched an amazing film, but you'll be pissed because you'll realize how much the studio screwed the pooch on this one. i mean its not just a film they destroyed but an actual masterpiece. Rent it, watch it, spread the word, I have a feeling that in five years it will be a certified cult classic and that there will be a re-release of the film in theaters. I'll be there.

Song Review: Magnet - "Everything's Perfect"

2008-06-10T01:49:00.000-07:00

By Old Man

"Love is only for poet's, and dreams are for fools"

If you are in a melancholy mood, and need some beauty to lift your sprits to the upper reaches, and remember why life is a gift worth keeping, this song is worth checking out...not to mention the rest of the album, specifically "Where Happiness Lives." On Your Side, from Norwegian songwriter Even Johansen aka Magnet, has stuck around on my Ipod for near two years. There is a very specific spot and emotion that it has a monopoly over, that emotion being dusk, after a surf session, content-but-still-yearning, driving home to my beautiful wife, at home in this world but still waiting for the next.

This in-between feeling of tension is captured near perfectly in the opening song, "Everything's Perfect." Here we see a narrator dear to my own heart - weather-worn, skeptical, not prone to huge leaps of faith - but nonetheless drawn into revelation by the beauty of a woman.

"I'm not a poet, I'm just a fool/but she speaks of keeps her as the exception to the rule"

Her beauty leads him to song, his vision of her takes him from his grumbling and into service of her every whim. She returns his favor, and says she'll "Die for" him. But he asks "Why can't you live for me?" The trumpets bring us to conclusion, realizing her beauty may be true to him - but distorted to her. Bittersweet. If only she realized that her vision was jacked up, that her perspective on herself was inaccurate - at best. If only we all realized.

Can I stretch? This song gets at how beauty (right, everythings PERFECT - what a responsibility...) can be a heavy load for anyone to carry. "Can you see what I see?" Johansen croons... But she can't - how hard it is to see ourselves rightly - accurately. Perhaps that's what we need others for, at least one of the reasons. I digress.

In the words of Ken Stringfellow's equally beautiful debut solo album, I'm Touched.

10/10

2008-06-04T13:51:00.000-07:00

By von Richthofen

Introducing the 10/10
Here's the deal.
There are rules you see.
Rules are made to be broken, but just play along with me.

RULES.
1. 10 songs.
2. 10 words or less.
3. 1 theme.
4. Must be from your personal collection (CD, ITunes, etc.).

TODAY'S THEME: 4:08 (Running Time.....in no particular order)
1. Big Chair - Travis: A rare band that seems to get better with age.
2. King Of New Orleans - Better Than Ezra: Set 'em up, then let 'em fall.
3. Narc - Interpol: The craziest opening line I think I have ever heard.
4. Funky Cold Medina - Tone Loc: A seriously underrated album, especially on cassette.
5. Arizona - Pedro The Lion: I wonder how Nevada and Utah feel?
6. Hey Johnny Park! - Foo Fighters: This album erased any doubts about post-Nirvana Dave Grohl.
7. In The Cold I'm Standing - M83: Atmospheric and eurphoric, an album of extremes.
8. Allure - DJ Danger Mouse: Macca meets Jigga.
9. Girl On a Motorbike - Swervedriver: The absolute best shoegazer band you have never heard of.
10. When We Escape - Minus The Bear: One of the coolest guitar breakdowns on wax.

Ok, now it is your turn. 4:08, what are you listening to?

Album Review: Great Northern - "Trading Twilight for Daylight" (7.3/10)

2008-06-01T22:53:00.000-07:00

By Old Man

I have a soft spot in my shell for a simple tune played by a glockenspiel. Like Gregor Samsa, the simple melody of the glock' over piano of Great Northern's opening track of their debut L.P. "Trading Twilight for Daylight" was a like an apple thrown by my mother, wedged in my trim-tracking, advertisement-selling, music-review-blog-editing cockroach shell, puncturing my defenses. But "Doesn't it make you feel good?" co-lead singer Rachel Stolte asks on the opening track "Our Bleeding Hearts," and my sentimental reply is a masochistic yes, oh yes it does.

Great Northern's debut full-length is a beautiful album. I can't resist the comparison to New Pornographers, simply because of the tradeoff of male and female singing, firmly established in the power-pop genre. Perhaps what sets them apart is their willingness to dive into electronic music, and samples, as exemplified on the drum sampling on "Low is a Height." Drummer Davey Latter (of Earlimart noteriety) adds tasteful and deft minimalist drumming, perfect for the aforementioned opening track. His drumming reminded me of one of my favorite singles of a few years back, the atmospheric "The Commander Thinks Aloud" off of The Long Winters e.p. Ultimatum. A drummer who can think like a songwriter is like money in the bank, and Latter's contribution is like an early investment in Starbuck's stock.

Their most popular I-Tunes track, "Home," sounds like a conglomerate of mid-nineties alt-rock, and while they do it better than many of their predecessors, as a single it leaves something more to be desired. Which is why for this album I am resistant to giving it much higher of a rating. The collection of songs is great, but their is no track that for me stands out as THE single: THE song, a gem that stretches beyond the heavily populated city of Good into the small rural town of Memorable: a song that I could show to my mom, to keep her from hurling that darn apple across the room.

Nonetheless, with first albums we see potential - and there is a lot to see here.

Film Review: "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull"

2008-05-28T09:11:00.000-07:00

By From the Burn

"Please don't suck! Please don't suck!" These 3 words have been looping in my head ever since I wiped my shed tears of joy after hearing that glorious trumpet and seeing that familiar fedora hat lying on the ground in the teaser trailer for Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull a few months ago. But I have a perfectly good reason to be worried - hand over mouth, faking coughing sound - "Star Wars". You see, and I know I'm not alone in this, Star Wars and Indiana Jones are not just movies, they are the essence of my childhood.

A childhood marinated in escapism that still to this day keeps me from becoming cynical even as I cocoon into adulthood. The way I feel after watching an Indiana Jones/Star Wars movie is the same way I feel after a strong deeply moving spiritual experience. After all they're not called "The Holy Trilogies" for nothing. But there isn't enough menthol in the world to wipe away the bitter taste that still resonates three years after the last of the Star Wars prequels was released. After several years of therapy, I have been able to come to terms with the severe disappointment, and even see some of the good in them. But the trauma was so much that there was no way I could survive something like that again. Recovery would be impossible and as the movie approached release I even started looking into psychiatric hospitals to prepare for the worse.

Well the anticipation and worry is gone because I've seen it and the fact that I'm able to write this review proves that it didn't suck...but was it awesome? Eh, kinda, not totally. There was good, there was bad, and there was definitely some ugly, but in the end I think there was enough good to not completely send my body into shock. Let's start with the ugly...The jungle car chase scene; Shia's Tarzan impression, cartoon monkeys, bad CGI all around, and an elastic tree. Basically the movie became The Mummy 3 for a good 20 minutes. The bad; Kaminski's (the cinematographer) overt theatrical lighting that often made it feel like an exaggerated Indiana Jones film instead of one of the originals, the climax was a little hokey, and I thought Marion Ravenwood could've been a much stronger character than she was especially towards the end.

But amidst the bad and the ugly the good still outshone, especially the whole first hour of the film. It was everything you'd hope for in a new Indy film because simply it felt like an Indy film but it also took into consideration the passing of time as well as his age and that made it feel fresh and relevant. The action sequences were fun, the characters were great (There were no Jar Jar's in it), John William's score was one of his best in a while, and the very end was for me a satisfying conclusion to the franchise. There was actually a moment where I got choked up, in the scene where it is revealed that Sean Connery's character has passed away there is some dialogue between Indy and the dean of his school about the fact that life isn't what it used to be and they're getting older and that they're at the point where “life has started taking instead of giving.” That brought tears to my eyes, not because of what was happening in the story but because I started thinking about Harrison Ford, Stephen Spielberg, and George Lucas and realized that that is the point where they're at in life. Then I thought about the fact that there will come a day when they're not making movies anymore and that thought resonated with me as I watched the rest of the movie. So even with the bomb shelter refrigerators, angry monkeys, and flying saucers I found myself trying to take it all in and not wanting it to end and that is why I do recommend seeing this film.

The best way I can summarize the experience is to give you another example. Last year my favorite band of all time The Police got back together and I got to see them, the performance itself wasn't amazing, they were definitely a little rusty, definitely getting old, and definitely not as energetic as I'm sure they were in their prime, but I still got to see The "freakin'" Police. Just to be in their presence for two hours was all I needed to quench a longing thirst in my soul. I accepted the performance for what it was knowing that I may never get another chance to experience The Police live again. The same is true for me with the new Indy film so my advice is to just accept it for what it is and take it in because you probably won't get another chance to experience something that is so SPECIAL to not just you or me but all of us.

Album Review: Andrew Bird - "Soldier On" (7/10)

2008-05-26T23:18:00.000-07:00

By Little August

New Americana for the New America

I have recently been listening to Andrew Bird non-stop. I can’t help myself. He’s that good. And he’s not new. To those of you who are part of the indie rock snobbery that is both at times appealing and repulsive, you probably heard Bird’s 2005 album The Mysterious Production of Eggs. If you have not heard of Andrew Bird, go to iTunes , buy all of his work, hit “play” and then continue on with this review with his songs in the background. Then listen to his work again. Stop. Check to see if he is visiting your city soon. Repeat.

Originally slated as a European-tour-only EP for his 2007 tour, Bird has released Soldier On digitally for the rest of us who weren’t able to make it to Gothenburg.

The album starts off with Bird sounding very Thom Yorke-ish with his ghost-like “ooohs” setting the mood of what shapes up to be combination of a somewhat dark song set mixed with highlights of a couple different takes of older Andrew Bird songs and a superb Bob Dylan cover at the finale.

In addition to being compared to Yorke, Bird has been compared to sounding like Rufus Wainwright and Jeff Buckley . I think there are times where Bird’s voice sounds less like Wainwright and Buckley and more how Sondre Lerche would sound after 10 years of extensive English classes.

But Bird is his own man: sometimes living up to his (sur)name with accomplished birdlike whistling (be it ironic or intentional), and unlike Yorke and Lerche, distinctly American, singing from one American to another of a docile culture bloated by wealth that is threatened to crumble under the weight of its “success.”

Bird’s sublime cover of the American bard, Dylan, is symbolic of the Americana torch being passed not only between generations but also between genres. A bold statement to be sure, but could it be that Bird’s style of new-world-American themes interlaced with his multi-instrumental, orchestral music (a style similarly echoed by another great American songwriter, Sufjan Stevens ) is replacing any version of modified folk and is emerging as the New Americana?

His songs are steeped in rich layering of imagery and logophilic purity. The EP opens with “The Trees Were Mistaken, ” setting the stage with themes of cultural preservation in this modern time where society threatens to cement its symbolic Southfield Freeway directly over and across the stories that once dwelled in its place. Knowing that the Southfield Freeway is in Michigan, I couldn’t resist a quick Google search to find out if there were any articles of interest with the Indian name “Blackbird” in that state (because of Bird’s repeated instance that his name is not Blackbird in this opening song). This search turned up an interesting character from Michigan’s past who was recently honored in 2007 on Michigan’s Walk of Fame: Andrew Blackbird, who was an Ottawa Indian from the 19th century remembered for various accomplishments linked to preserving culture. Is Bird lamenting our society’s tendencies to (in this song’s case, literally) pave over the past, destroying its rich culture? Or is this a certifiable Little August conspiracy? In either case, I am in Oakland, not Scotland Yard, so we will move on after agreeing that, for better or for worse, listening to Andrew Bird makes you feel smarter.

Sic of Elephants follows this opening tune, where the New Americana poet speaks to the masses of a new generation 21st century America on the dangers of our society’s condition of seemingly starting the decline after a 50-year peak as a superpower:

Can't you see how dangerous
When you're too content to make a fuss
Can't you see how dangerous

The lyrics portray republican Elephants and lobbying sycophants as being behind the current war, but place the blame squarely on us (yes, likely the same us, the new generation of young adult Americans who are now reading The Old Shack) for our inability to choose (i.e. our infamous inability to stand up and vote in the 2004 election):

Can't you see how dangerous
The one you chose is
Which brings us back to
Might makes right
So we learn from Wars of the Roses
Pain was only fear kneading your toeses

Bird alludes to the disastrous War of the Roses, perhaps to liken the British civil war between two royal houses to the Red State / Blue State tug-o-war currently dividing our country.

Bird’s best stab at painting the dilemma of the New America is found within the lyrics to “How You Gonna Keep ‘Em Down on the Farm.” The lyrics here come from Mister Reuben and his Wifey Dear: two old representatives of the Old America where hard work, agriculture and the simple life comprised much of what made America great. The Old American ambassadors contemplate the dilemma of what will happen to their world now that “the war” is over and their sons are returning, victorious. Ma seems to think life will be the same back on the farm, but clairvoyant Mister Reuben foresees the future of a country led by a generation who have returned victorious.

They’ll never want to see a rake or a plow,
and who the deuce can parlez-vous a cow?
And how ya gonna keep ’em down on the farm
after they’ve seen Paris?

Mister Reuben’s assessment of the next generations future rings true for our current “Generation Me,” who feels we increasingly deserve more, more, more (like the new Comcast commercials!):

“Mother Reuben, I’m not fakin',
though you may think it strange.
But wine and women play the mischief,
with a boy who’s loose with change!”

Perhaps there is more mischief in store, or maybe the masses of the New America will dig up the Southfield Freeway, find the roots that once made America strong and will Soldier On into a brave new future with the New Americana bard Andrew Bird at the helm.