So last night was the finale of the fifth season of Top Chef on Bravo. Having worked in a restaurant a great deal I've served my share of good food (a hearty emphasis on served; I'm far to lazy too cook at all much less very well), but being a man of humble means, I've seen only glimpses of the crème de la crème. The best I can probably recall was the five course taster menu that my brother and I enjoyed at Alan Wong's in Honolulu for his 25th birthday (highlight's included "soup & sandwich" Tomato soup and Mozz/foie gras grilled cheese, poached lobster, onaga, twice-cooked shortrib, and coconut tapioca).
However the finale two challenges this season took place in New Orleans, and I certainly have some fond foodie memories of that place. There was dinner at Arnaud's my freshman year with my father (My first taste of turtle soup to start followed by Chicken Pontalba). There was the Brennan's two-fer for my 21st birthday: the Bourbon House the night before, and of course brunch at the original Brennan's on the day of (Eggs Nouvelle Orleans has yet to be dethroned as my most delectable breakfast ever, but the best part was the Banana's Foster fireball that nearly consumed my brother's head). And of course there was the no holds barred tour for my college graduation, that included lunch at Galatoire's (an unparalleled softshell crab sandwich), and dinner at the site of last night's Top Chef finale Commander's Palace (soup trio, and resplendent Gulf fish).
Coming into the finale we had the prohibitive favorite, the caustic Stefan who after displaying his prowess over the rest of the competition challenge after challenge, is starting to slow down at the wrong moment. We had Hosea, by all rights a strong chef, but not entirely the most consistent throughout the competition as he's been too easily distracted by Stefan's largess, and Leah's feminine wiles. And we had the Martian Carla. She nearly got eliminated twice for being less than assertive, but she clearly has the most momentum coming into the finale. I would have to say I was rooting for Carla.
Every season has had its heel (Stephen, Marcel, Hung, Howie) and often times it is one of the most talented, if not the most talented competitor. I've only ever rooted for the once before (I was satisfied when Hung took the title in Season 3). While Stefan was undoubtedly the strongest in this season, I didn't want him to win.
As the judges all commented favorably on each contestant's hors d'œuvres it looked to be shaping up to be one hell of a competition. And Carla killed both the boys with her first course; should serve as a warning against future chefs to think against presenting raw fish in the final round.
Unfortunately this was the peak for Carla as she revealed her weakness in her last two courses, relying to heavily on her sous chef Casey's advice. She won an earlier challenge by showing her ability w/ simple cooking, and yet she chose to sous vide her protein. How do you send the love in the sous vide bag Carla? And you absolutely killed w/ your tart's previously. The small oversight with overcooking the souffle was almost like karma kicking you for straying from your strengths.
In the second course Hosea showed up well with his foie gras & scallops. I'm a little astounded that there was even an issue in the kitchen about the foie. Hosea, if their are THREE portions of foie for a competition with THREE contestants, shouldn't you only need one? Stefan shouldn't have even had to contest his right to some of that foie. I think karma again reared its ugly head, as Stefan's perfectly cooked squab & braised cabbage out-shined Hosea's dish.
The final course became a semantics argument that truly deflated the competition. Hosea chose to forego the logical choice of doing a dessert, chosing to stay true to the natural progression of him dishes by cooking venision (on an unrelated note, I've been craving a good venison dish for months). This decision can viewed as cowardly or cunning. Hosea mentioned that he didn't want to lose Top Chef on a dessert, and who can blame him. But a good chef should have at least one good dessert up their sleeve.
Stefan never thought twice about doing a dessert. Why should he? His desserts in the Restaurant Wars challenge single-handedly saved Leah from going home. But he somehow forgot that this was the last course he would be serving in this competition, and he under-delivered in a big way. Its a shame that he had the stones to do a dessert, yet lost b/c of it. I actually think that next season that the dessert should be made a mandatory part of the final challenge. In my mind's eye I see it as a pitch-perfect twist: Have them plan their perfect meal excluding dessert only to throw it on the table for the contestants in the eleventh hour.
Overall I was disappointed. Hosea clearly won the final challenge, but he is by far the weakest chef of the five victors (Harold, Hung, & certainly Stephanie are leagues ahead of him). Hopefully next season turns out better.
Showing posts with label reminiscence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reminiscence. Show all posts
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
an actors director ... and good guy
So I finally watched The Wrestler last night. It serves to reinforce my huge geekdom when talking about Darren Aronofsky. This post should serve as a sort of pre-rambling to a massive oscar-prediction write-up.
One of the downsides to living in a small town is that we have one ten-screen movie theater. So our cinematic choices are often limited. It must be said that whoever is in charge of movie selection over there is doing a much better job than in years past. I've actually had the opportunity to watch 3 of the 5 nominees for the Best Picture Oscar in the past two months. He balances crappy horror drivel with films that appeal to our sizable geriatric demographic on the Outer Banks. When Gran Torino opened up to wide release in early January, I was shocked at how full the theater was on its first night here in KDH. And even more shocked at the number of high school kids I saw in the audience.
Unfortunately I had to resort to alternate means to view the latest film by one of my favorite filmmakers...Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler. It involves identifying with Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, and Geoffery Rush (virtually speaking anyway). So my viewing experience did not have the grand scope of a film theater, but I was deeply impressed by Aronofsky's work, as per usual. I can actually point to a viewing of his work as being one of those aha moments, where I realized I was really into film.
..
It was Thanksgiving 2000, and I we were visiting our Arlington, VA friends as per usual. A quasi-tradition we have to is to try and squeeze a movie theater outing into our visit, but this year not everyone was interested. Zag the oldest son of my mom's best friend Linda, had recently gotten into film making, and we had talked some during our visit. I had taken in a seminar in my last semester at high school that dabbled in film analysis, but had been unable to register for any film classes in school due in large part because I registered for all my classes late, but also because the program was small, and the classes filled up very quickly (I guess the idea of watching movies for class appeals to college kids).
Zag and I decided to go out to Georgetown to find a small screening of Requiem for a Dream. And I was awash in greatness. The arresting cinematography by Matty Libatique and the ominous tones composed by Clint Mansell, coupled with incredible performances, were married to Aronofsky's haunting screenplay and direction to culminate in this eruption of a cinematic experience. With Zag there to help point out particularly impressive tones, themes, and techniques employed by the filmmakers, I was hooked. I wanted to drink in all that film analysis and theory had to offer, in a way that my former English teachers had wanted us to think about the dreary literature in which they drowned us.
Requiem got moderate love from the awards circuit. Most notably was the notice of the strong performance from Ellen Burstyn. She won the Independent Spirit Award for best Female Lead, but lost the Oscar to that horse-toothed Julia Roberts for Erin Brockovich. Looking back it was a very strong year for film so I'm not surprised that Darren got lost in the academy shuffle. Another his collaborator's who scored an ISA was Libatique for his cinematography. I actually watched the next two films he DP'ed for solely based on Requiem. The second was the god awful Josie and the Pussycats, that I will still defend to this day (to some degree) based on Libatique's involvement. The first, however, was Joel Schumacher's Tigerland, which featured the role that essentially started the meteoric rise of Colin Farrell. I was impressed when he turned out to be Irish, as I was convinced he was actually from Texas. Another one of his cast-mates captured my attention. He appears here sitting on the bunk on the right.
I knew I had see him before. After I IMDB'ed him, I had to pick my jaw off the floor. (Here's a hint: "How can I have s'more when I haven't had any yet," "You're KILLING ME Smalls"). I watched that flick so many times growing up, and I always wondered what happened to those kids. I even rented that god awful sequel they cranked out because on the back it touted a where-are-they-now featurette.
Anywho, I digress (as is my nature). Libatique has DP'ed for Aronofsky for all his pictures...until The Wrestler. Matty forced Aronofsky to find a new DP for The Wrestler, most likely because Matty was off working on a little picture called Iron Man. Matty's also established a new collaboration trend, having framed each of Spike Lee's pictures since She Hate Me. But never fear...Libatique's hopefully tied to Darren's next two projects.
But perhaps Matty wasn't the right choice for The Wrestler. Maryse Alberti did the lighting and framing for this picture, and his pedigree is not be scoffed at. Most notably when scanning his filmography I saw a few highly touted documentaries, and The Wrestler plays very close to that type of tone. But it wasn't as if Aronofsky wasn't completely w/o his regular collaborators. He had his steady music man Clint Mansell whose provided the score for each of his movies.
My friend Jason liked his music so much that he used it in a clever youtube video,
I still believe a better name for the clip would have been "Requiem for a Wii'm"
...
When I was a sophomore in college I had the good fortune to meet both Aronofsky and Mansell.
We had a screening of Aronofsky's breakout film Pi, and following the film Aronofsky and Mansell (who of course scored this pic as well as Requiem for a Dream by this point) had a Q and A session.
The first thing I realized was...This guy seems like a regular average human being: How in the world did come up with such a depressing, visceral experience like Requiem. When I got a chance to shake his hand and get an autograph, I simply told him that it was a relief to find out that he had a normal sense of humor. There was also much speculation at this Q and A session about the much hyped Batman Year One project that Aronofsky was rumored to be developing. Aronofsky got shafted by the studios on this (I suppose you've seen the two somewhat successful movies starring Christian Bale have you?)and his next big project The Fountain. (I remember reading an early script review when Cate Blanchett and Brad Pitt were attached, and he a $75 million budget...this was in 2002; then EVERYTHING WENT WRONG; long story short he had to make the movie for $35 million with Hugh Jackman, and his fiance Rachel Weisz and it was released in 2006)And yet he keeps on trucking despite Hollywood horror stories.
What I've come to realize is that Aronofsky is very much an actor's director. He sets the stage so well for an actor to deliver a monster performance. Burstyn in Requiem got an Oscar nod. Hugh Jackman proved he's a legitimate triple threat by showing dramatic chops in The Fountain, to go along with his action star clout and his Tony-award winning musical theater career. And now he's given Mickey Rourke the best gift he could possible get.
This film was tougher financially for them to make with Rourke as the headliner. And Aronofsky persisted that he be cast. I found his lack of bankability a little surprising given that Rourke had lit up the screen as Marv in Sin City in 2005, but that was not a headlining role by a longshot. But no one could play this role but Rourke.
So yeah Aronofsky didn't get nominated for an Oscar, but you can bet your sweet ass that win Rourke takes it down, he's gonna give up the love for Darren.
One of the downsides to living in a small town is that we have one ten-screen movie theater. So our cinematic choices are often limited. It must be said that whoever is in charge of movie selection over there is doing a much better job than in years past. I've actually had the opportunity to watch 3 of the 5 nominees for the Best Picture Oscar in the past two months. He balances crappy horror drivel with films that appeal to our sizable geriatric demographic on the Outer Banks. When Gran Torino opened up to wide release in early January, I was shocked at how full the theater was on its first night here in KDH. And even more shocked at the number of high school kids I saw in the audience.
Unfortunately I had to resort to alternate means to view the latest film by one of my favorite filmmakers...Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler. It involves identifying with Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, and Geoffery Rush (virtually speaking anyway). So my viewing experience did not have the grand scope of a film theater, but I was deeply impressed by Aronofsky's work, as per usual. I can actually point to a viewing of his work as being one of those aha moments, where I realized I was really into film.
..
It was Thanksgiving 2000, and I we were visiting our Arlington, VA friends as per usual. A quasi-tradition we have to is to try and squeeze a movie theater outing into our visit, but this year not everyone was interested. Zag the oldest son of my mom's best friend Linda, had recently gotten into film making, and we had talked some during our visit. I had taken in a seminar in my last semester at high school that dabbled in film analysis, but had been unable to register for any film classes in school due in large part because I registered for all my classes late, but also because the program was small, and the classes filled up very quickly (I guess the idea of watching movies for class appeals to college kids).
Zag and I decided to go out to Georgetown to find a small screening of Requiem for a Dream. And I was awash in greatness. The arresting cinematography by Matty Libatique and the ominous tones composed by Clint Mansell, coupled with incredible performances, were married to Aronofsky's haunting screenplay and direction to culminate in this eruption of a cinematic experience. With Zag there to help point out particularly impressive tones, themes, and techniques employed by the filmmakers, I was hooked. I wanted to drink in all that film analysis and theory had to offer, in a way that my former English teachers had wanted us to think about the dreary literature in which they drowned us.
Requiem got moderate love from the awards circuit. Most notably was the notice of the strong performance from Ellen Burstyn. She won the Independent Spirit Award for best Female Lead, but lost the Oscar to that horse-toothed Julia Roberts for Erin Brockovich. Looking back it was a very strong year for film so I'm not surprised that Darren got lost in the academy shuffle. Another his collaborator's who scored an ISA was Libatique for his cinematography. I actually watched the next two films he DP'ed for solely based on Requiem. The second was the god awful Josie and the Pussycats, that I will still defend to this day (to some degree) based on Libatique's involvement. The first, however, was Joel Schumacher's Tigerland, which featured the role that essentially started the meteoric rise of Colin Farrell. I was impressed when he turned out to be Irish, as I was convinced he was actually from Texas. Another one of his cast-mates captured my attention. He appears here sitting on the bunk on the right.
Anywho, I digress (as is my nature). Libatique has DP'ed for Aronofsky for all his pictures...until The Wrestler. Matty forced Aronofsky to find a new DP for The Wrestler, most likely because Matty was off working on a little picture called Iron Man. Matty's also established a new collaboration trend, having framed each of Spike Lee's pictures since She Hate Me. But never fear...Libatique's hopefully tied to Darren's next two projects.
But perhaps Matty wasn't the right choice for The Wrestler. Maryse Alberti did the lighting and framing for this picture, and his pedigree is not be scoffed at. Most notably when scanning his filmography I saw a few highly touted documentaries, and The Wrestler plays very close to that type of tone. But it wasn't as if Aronofsky wasn't completely w/o his regular collaborators. He had his steady music man Clint Mansell whose provided the score for each of his movies.
My friend Jason liked his music so much that he used it in a clever youtube video,
I still believe a better name for the clip would have been "Requiem for a Wii'm"
...
When I was a sophomore in college I had the good fortune to meet both Aronofsky and Mansell.
We had a screening of Aronofsky's breakout film Pi, and following the film Aronofsky and Mansell (who of course scored this pic as well as Requiem for a Dream by this point) had a Q and A session.
The first thing I realized was...This guy seems like a regular average human being: How in the world did come up with such a depressing, visceral experience like Requiem. When I got a chance to shake his hand and get an autograph, I simply told him that it was a relief to find out that he had a normal sense of humor. There was also much speculation at this Q and A session about the much hyped Batman Year One project that Aronofsky was rumored to be developing. Aronofsky got shafted by the studios on this (I suppose you've seen the two somewhat successful movies starring Christian Bale have you?)and his next big project The Fountain. (I remember reading an early script review when Cate Blanchett and Brad Pitt were attached, and he a $75 million budget...this was in 2002; then EVERYTHING WENT WRONG; long story short he had to make the movie for $35 million with Hugh Jackman, and his fiance Rachel Weisz and it was released in 2006)And yet he keeps on trucking despite Hollywood horror stories.
What I've come to realize is that Aronofsky is very much an actor's director. He sets the stage so well for an actor to deliver a monster performance. Burstyn in Requiem got an Oscar nod. Hugh Jackman proved he's a legitimate triple threat by showing dramatic chops in The Fountain, to go along with his action star clout and his Tony-award winning musical theater career. And now he's given Mickey Rourke the best gift he could possible get.
This film was tougher financially for them to make with Rourke as the headliner. And Aronofsky persisted that he be cast. I found his lack of bankability a little surprising given that Rourke had lit up the screen as Marv in Sin City in 2005, but that was not a headlining role by a longshot. But no one could play this role but Rourke.
So yeah Aronofsky didn't get nominated for an Oscar, but you can bet your sweet ass that win Rourke takes it down, he's gonna give up the love for Darren.
Monday, December 22, 2008
my songbook Christmas (and possibly final) edition
So a few weeks ago my hard drive crashed and I've busy dealing with getting that solved. I stand by my Macintosh, as the process for getting the computer service was quick and easy. It would have been even smoother if I lived close to a licensed Mac computer center, and didn't have to ship my computer off to get worked on. Since I've gotten it back, I've been sorting through it as if it were a new computer, resetting all my preferences, address books, and bookmarks. So I've given myself less free time to write.
In other news, I've pretty much decided to can posting these entries on Myspace. I've set Facebook Notes to import directly from this site, and its no secret that I've preferred Facebook to Myspace. The inital import sparked some light conversation based on my previous songbook entry and I was intrigued enough to reread some of my past entries. Truth be told, I've grown tired of the theme, and I imagine this will be the last of these entries...Also Oscar season is very much upon us, and I intend to at least dedicate one serious blog entry into discussing the movie awards season.
And it just so happens that the song I've chosen provides a nice bookend based upon my first songbook subject so here we go.
This year I've been wearing out the Christmas music ever since the first of the month. I've got a solid list of about 150 songs pumping on random. The list is dominated by holiday favorites and classics, with an occasional new Christmas song or creative re-imagining of a classic. So I thought it would nice to talk about what I consider to be my favorite Christmas song.
So without further ado:
"Hallelujah, (Chorus) from Handel's Messiah" performed by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir"
I was mildly tempted to focus on one of the non-traditional songs that is slowly gaining ground on my Christmas song ranking list (like Rilo Kiley's Xmas Cake or Sufjan Stevens' "That Was the Worst Christmas"), but Christmas is all about tradition, and this ripping choral number has it in spades.
And being that the first song I wrote about was Hallelujah, this makes sense too.
The Hallelujah chorus concludes the second of three acts in George Frideric Handel's Messiah oratorio composed in 1741(thank you Wikipedia). I can't remember a time in my life when I recalled ever hearing any other part of Handels masterpiece, and I can say with some confidence that I don't care to, as the chorus stands well alone.
So you may wonder why I didn't chose a more popular carol-friendly tune like Jingle Bells? Well the Hallelujah resonates with me on a couple of different levels.
First, this song is best heard sung by a choir, with proper direction/orchestration. The different vocal sections of the choir are called upon throughout the song. Its simply a very best "showing-off" of what a well-directed choir is capable of. Another great holiday staple that accomplishes this (and also one of my faves) is Carol of the Bells. Its almost like a structured and and refined version of singing in "rounds" like you would do at summer camp, with different groups of campers staggering their belting of "Row Row Row Your Boat" so that as you sing it sounds like their is an echo.
I specifically remember attempting to sing along to the Hallelujah chorus at the tail end of the service of Lessons of Carols run by one Marc F. Cheban at St. Andrews. I hung in the back with the regular choir, and attempted to chime in with the bass singers intoning "And he shall reign for ever and ever." So I suppose this song will always remind me of that.
The words are nothing particularly earth-shattering. Much of the lyrics are extrapolated from the bible (Revelations actually), but I easily get lost in this song. Yeah maybe they're a bit repetitive, but hey the delivery is spirited.
So no your average caroler will not be attempting this ditty on your front door, but there is no shortage of recordings of the this masterpiece to sate yourself with during the holidays. For my money Christmas music doesn't get much better.
I would love to hear what some other peoples favorite holiday songs are so comment away (I love when I assume people actually read these).
In other news, I've pretty much decided to can posting these entries on Myspace. I've set Facebook Notes to import directly from this site, and its no secret that I've preferred Facebook to Myspace. The inital import sparked some light conversation based on my previous songbook entry and I was intrigued enough to reread some of my past entries. Truth be told, I've grown tired of the theme, and I imagine this will be the last of these entries...Also Oscar season is very much upon us, and I intend to at least dedicate one serious blog entry into discussing the movie awards season.
And it just so happens that the song I've chosen provides a nice bookend based upon my first songbook subject so here we go.
This year I've been wearing out the Christmas music ever since the first of the month. I've got a solid list of about 150 songs pumping on random. The list is dominated by holiday favorites and classics, with an occasional new Christmas song or creative re-imagining of a classic. So I thought it would nice to talk about what I consider to be my favorite Christmas song.
So without further ado:
"Hallelujah, (Chorus) from Handel's Messiah" performed by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir"
I was mildly tempted to focus on one of the non-traditional songs that is slowly gaining ground on my Christmas song ranking list (like Rilo Kiley's Xmas Cake or Sufjan Stevens' "That Was the Worst Christmas"), but Christmas is all about tradition, and this ripping choral number has it in spades.
And being that the first song I wrote about was Hallelujah, this makes sense too.
The Hallelujah chorus concludes the second of three acts in George Frideric Handel's Messiah oratorio composed in 1741(thank you Wikipedia). I can't remember a time in my life when I recalled ever hearing any other part of Handels masterpiece, and I can say with some confidence that I don't care to, as the chorus stands well alone.
So you may wonder why I didn't chose a more popular carol-friendly tune like Jingle Bells? Well the Hallelujah resonates with me on a couple of different levels.
First, this song is best heard sung by a choir, with proper direction/orchestration. The different vocal sections of the choir are called upon throughout the song. Its simply a very best "showing-off" of what a well-directed choir is capable of. Another great holiday staple that accomplishes this (and also one of my faves) is Carol of the Bells. Its almost like a structured and and refined version of singing in "rounds" like you would do at summer camp, with different groups of campers staggering their belting of "Row Row Row Your Boat" so that as you sing it sounds like their is an echo.
I specifically remember attempting to sing along to the Hallelujah chorus at the tail end of the service of Lessons of Carols run by one Marc F. Cheban at St. Andrews. I hung in the back with the regular choir, and attempted to chime in with the bass singers intoning "And he shall reign for ever and ever." So I suppose this song will always remind me of that.
The words are nothing particularly earth-shattering. Much of the lyrics are extrapolated from the bible (Revelations actually), but I easily get lost in this song. Yeah maybe they're a bit repetitive, but hey the delivery is spirited.
So no your average caroler will not be attempting this ditty on your front door, but there is no shortage of recordings of the this masterpiece to sate yourself with during the holidays. For my money Christmas music doesn't get much better.
I would love to hear what some other peoples favorite holiday songs are so comment away (I love when I assume people actually read these).
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
my songbook pt. 5
"Tango de Roxanne" - Ewan McGregor, José Feliciano & Jacek Koman from "Moulin Rouge" (2001)
I would say I am a little guarded about my affinity for musicals. To be blunt...its not very heterosexual. I have received quite a bit of flack from some friends, one in particular (James) for being adamant that I enjoy most forms of musicals. It seems strange given that I this a recent trend. I wouldn't say that I was decidedly anti-musical in high school, but my enjoyment of all things Fosse, Minielli, etc. wasn't at its current level.
I dug our school's production of Godspell, Me Me in St. Louis, and The Sound of Music, but it wasn't until very late in the year when my roommate Pedro and I got into a very deep Rocky Horror Picture Show rut. Pedro was the only male student at our school that was out of the closet, and his introducing me to Richard O'Brien's tranny masterpiece was the caboose to the yearlong train of education of all things rainbow. While Pedro pined for the Adonis-inspired Rocky, I oogled the youthful Susan Sarandon. I fell for her hardcore when i peeped he in Bull Durham (A cougar like her with a religious devotion to baseball...oh yeah), so the fifteen-years-younger version in her underwear was an easy sell.
Its staggering to think about how cloaked in ignorance about that lifestyle. There's no one in my life to blame for that, save for a lack of real exposure. Its that same cloak of ignorance that allows for horrible things like Prop 8 to pass even the most liberal of states. Yeesh...lets nip that political rant in the bud shall we.
I took my brother's friend Jenny to see Moulin Rouge in the theater in the summer of 2000. I had a thing for her (redhead, what do you expect), she had one for my brother, he had one for her younger sister (at least I think so; I could be completely fabricating that entire love trapezoid--I destroyed plenty of brain cells that summer). This was both our first and last date. I was transfixed by every bit of celluloid that night. As I began to gush about the magic we had just witnessed leaving the theater, I was stopped dead in my tracks as Jenny soundly denounced the film as weird. She didn't like it, didn't get it. Needless to say I found less and less attractive about her.
Moulin Rouge is this wonderful postmodern musical, that is a fusion of three distinct old style operas (La Traviatta, La Boheme, and Orpheus in the Underworld), set at a brothel in turn-of-the- (19th) century France. The rub on that period setting is that the film's songs (save one original "Come What May") are simply re-interpretations of popular songs throughout history, most having to do with love. Setting the film in 1899, allows its hero Christian (played by Ewan McGregor) to appear stunningly innovative as the original writing that he pimps are in fact a Greatest hits from popular music and musicals. When he belts out the classic sound of music line "The hiiillls are allive with sound of muuuuussssic!" that stops the bohemians dead in their tracks, I nearly died laughing at the genius of that moment. So many of this films musical cues elicited this sort of response, I panic that I may have made a hasty decision.
Perhaps I should have chosen to feature this entire soundtrack. I could wax on for quite a while on so many of these tracks (some more than others) Here's a complete list of tracks for the film, and quickly where I see the discussion heading in each case:
1. Nature Boy - David Bowie -- Ziggy himself doing a rendtion of a Nat King Cole classic...some great levels to explore there
2. Lady Marmalarde - Christina, Pink, Mya, Lil' Kim, Missy Elliott -- the pop sensation spawned by the film; its seems so disconnected from the film when I think of it now.
3. Because We Can - Fatboy Slim -- would devolve quickly into a dicussion of his uber cool "Weapon of Choice" video with Christopher Walken, which would segway not so subtley into me just needing more cowbell (its the only solution to my fever)
4. Sparkling Diamonds - Nicole Kidman & Jim Broadbent -- much to be said about the great references to Madonna and Holly Golightly herself
5. Valeria - Rhythm of the Night - Gloria Estfan just won something big right
6. Your Song - Ewan McGregor & Nicole Kidman -- The second big appearance by Elton john in a film fave of mine in as many years (the first being "Tiny Dancer" in Almost Famous) this coupled with the sweet music videos for "I Want Love" (w/ Tony Stark/Robert Downey Jr.) and "This Train Don't Stop Here Anymore" (w/ Justin Timberlake before he brought SexyBack) convinced me to purchase the Elton John double disc Greatest Hits album. He ceased to be from that moment the weirdo who did those two songs for the Lion King, and became a musical icon. Weird how my mind works.
7. Children of the Revolution - Bono, Gavin Friday, Maurice Seezer -- A T. Rex song. Actually not much here. Believe it or not talking about Bono bores me these days
8. One Day I'll Fly Away - Nicole Kidman -- old Jazz standard by Kidman here
9. Diamond Dogs - Beck -- just really one kickass artist doing his thing. Every album is so different from the last its hard to realize their the same guy. I remember belting out Loser in middle school & grooving to Midnite Vultures in high school, but both those memories are on completely different wavelengths.
10. Elephant Love Medley - Nicole Kidman & Ewan McGregor -- At the time I could only identify pieces of this roller coaster of homages. To effortlessly glide from KISS to U2 to the Beatles to disco queen Thelma Houston I was impressed as hell. This medley gets at the very postmodern heart of this film. These songs like "Up Where We Belong" and "I Will Always Love You" already exist to evoke certain movie moments (whether it be An Officer and a Gentleman, or The Bodyguard), but Lurhman pilfered them perfectly, to not only recall those emotions, but project his own gravitas on those already in place.
11. Come What May - Nicole Kidman & Ewan McGregor -- I was miffed during Oscar season that this was not nominated for Best Original Song. It prompted a very close examining of the rules for that an other categories. Because the song was originally written for Romeo + Juliet, it could not qualify for the category for the wholly different movie.
12. El Tango de Roxanne - Ewan McGregor, Jose Feliciano, Jacek Koman -- I'll get there
13. Complainte De La Butte - Rufus Wainwright - My sister recognized his voice, prompted me to gift her his CD, then I heard him sing "Hallelujah," see my first songbook blog for the rest.
14. Hindi Sad Diamonds - Nicole Kidman, John Legizamo, Alka Yagnik -- Ahh the Bollywood-inspired number. Could go any number of ways, including Mira Nair's work, or even Bend it Like Beckham
15. Nature Boy - David Bowie & Massive Attack -- that sets up a wicked tangent on house music
All of these don't even begin to scratch the surface on my initial fascination with Baz Lurhman and his take on Romeo + Juliet. I was so enamored with that world he created. The reason so many of my online login names include the Shakespeare character Mercutio is because of that movie. Harold Perrineau (pre LOST and pre Matrix) created a version of that character that found extremely daring and charismatic. But alas I digress....in a big way....Back to El Tango de Roxanne.
--
"Roxanne" ... Its embarrassing to admit that I never considered what the 1978 Police track was actually about. It took its re-imagining for Moulin Rouge as a tango, for me to recognize that its a song about a French prostitute.
As Satine goes to be the Duke to save the production of Spectacular Spectacular, Christian laments his powerlessness. Jacek Koman (The Unconscious Argentinean) performs a steamy tango with Caroline O'Connor (Nini, Legs in the Air). The resulting dance is cross cut with Satine's "encounter" with the Duke. The Argintinean lays it out for Christian that falling in love with someone who sells intimacy to the highest bidder is path to insanity, for "Jealousy will drive you MAD!"
Two distinct things about this track send chills down my spine. The first is the marked difference between the Argentinean's delivery of this song and Sting's original higher range. What can I say I love a good cover song, particular one that is more of a reinterpretation and not simply a tribute band trying to recreate the original sound.
Secondly is the slow building of drama within the track. The backing begins simply... As the song's momentum builds the vocal focus shifts from the Argintinean to Christian, and the backing, builds and builds. The melancholy felt by Christian and Satine underscored through the song is so achingly palatable. They are torn between wanting their love displayed through their art, or rather in actuality in their very lives.
This scene embodies what is magical about musicals. For so many who scoff at the bright and cheery spectacle of a musical production, it is unfathomable that people are driven by songs in their every action, and it's even more strange that one would let that inner song out, and simply sing to show how they feel.
"People don't just break out randomly into song," is the anti-musical sentiment I've had to contend against for so long. And there's a nugget of truth to that, because most people don't. But the feelings that drive and saturate any music exist within us whether we choose to let feeling erupt from us or not.
This may be why I was first drawn to the darker songs in all musicals like "Tango. My favorite track from Chicago is the self-loathing anthem "Mr. Cellophane" Another track responsible was "I've Seen It All" from Dancer in the Dark. Sadness and inner pain made more sense to be set to music at first. As I came to watch and dissect more musicals (My film class on musicals in college turned out to be one of my favorites) I came to appreciate all aspects of the art form.
I discovered gems like Rent, Mamma Mia!, and Sweeney Todd after college, and loved them.
So I'll guess that the melancholy that eloquently shattered the screen and my senses in "Tango de Roxanne" is responsible for a deep-seeded appreciation of the musical genre. They're a tough sell to much of the movie-going public, but feel renewed with each big studio production that makes it to theater (Even if they make to listen to the terrible vocal stylings of Pierce Brosnan sometimes...for every actor who can't sing there are several that can and thank God they still do.)
I would say I am a little guarded about my affinity for musicals. To be blunt...its not very heterosexual. I have received quite a bit of flack from some friends, one in particular (James) for being adamant that I enjoy most forms of musicals. It seems strange given that I this a recent trend. I wouldn't say that I was decidedly anti-musical in high school, but my enjoyment of all things Fosse, Minielli, etc. wasn't at its current level.
I dug our school's production of Godspell, Me Me in St. Louis, and The Sound of Music, but it wasn't until very late in the year when my roommate Pedro and I got into a very deep Rocky Horror Picture Show rut. Pedro was the only male student at our school that was out of the closet, and his introducing me to Richard O'Brien's tranny masterpiece was the caboose to the yearlong train of education of all things rainbow. While Pedro pined for the Adonis-inspired Rocky, I oogled the youthful Susan Sarandon. I fell for her hardcore when i peeped he in Bull Durham (A cougar like her with a religious devotion to baseball...oh yeah), so the fifteen-years-younger version in her underwear was an easy sell.
Its staggering to think about how cloaked in ignorance about that lifestyle. There's no one in my life to blame for that, save for a lack of real exposure. Its that same cloak of ignorance that allows for horrible things like Prop 8 to pass even the most liberal of states. Yeesh...lets nip that political rant in the bud shall we.
I took my brother's friend Jenny to see Moulin Rouge in the theater in the summer of 2000. I had a thing for her (redhead, what do you expect), she had one for my brother, he had one for her younger sister (at least I think so; I could be completely fabricating that entire love trapezoid--I destroyed plenty of brain cells that summer). This was both our first and last date. I was transfixed by every bit of celluloid that night. As I began to gush about the magic we had just witnessed leaving the theater, I was stopped dead in my tracks as Jenny soundly denounced the film as weird. She didn't like it, didn't get it. Needless to say I found less and less attractive about her.
Moulin Rouge is this wonderful postmodern musical, that is a fusion of three distinct old style operas (La Traviatta, La Boheme, and Orpheus in the Underworld), set at a brothel in turn-of-the- (19th) century France. The rub on that period setting is that the film's songs (save one original "Come What May") are simply re-interpretations of popular songs throughout history, most having to do with love. Setting the film in 1899, allows its hero Christian (played by Ewan McGregor) to appear stunningly innovative as the original writing that he pimps are in fact a Greatest hits from popular music and musicals. When he belts out the classic sound of music line "The hiiillls are allive with sound of muuuuussssic!" that stops the bohemians dead in their tracks, I nearly died laughing at the genius of that moment. So many of this films musical cues elicited this sort of response, I panic that I may have made a hasty decision.
Perhaps I should have chosen to feature this entire soundtrack. I could wax on for quite a while on so many of these tracks (some more than others) Here's a complete list of tracks for the film, and quickly where I see the discussion heading in each case:
1. Nature Boy - David Bowie -- Ziggy himself doing a rendtion of a Nat King Cole classic...some great levels to explore there
2. Lady Marmalarde - Christina, Pink, Mya, Lil' Kim, Missy Elliott -- the pop sensation spawned by the film; its seems so disconnected from the film when I think of it now.
3. Because We Can - Fatboy Slim -- would devolve quickly into a dicussion of his uber cool "Weapon of Choice" video with Christopher Walken, which would segway not so subtley into me just needing more cowbell (its the only solution to my fever)
4. Sparkling Diamonds - Nicole Kidman & Jim Broadbent -- much to be said about the great references to Madonna and Holly Golightly herself
5. Valeria - Rhythm of the Night - Gloria Estfan just won something big right
6. Your Song - Ewan McGregor & Nicole Kidman -- The second big appearance by Elton john in a film fave of mine in as many years (the first being "Tiny Dancer" in Almost Famous) this coupled with the sweet music videos for "I Want Love" (w/ Tony Stark/Robert Downey Jr.) and "This Train Don't Stop Here Anymore" (w/ Justin Timberlake before he brought SexyBack) convinced me to purchase the Elton John double disc Greatest Hits album. He ceased to be from that moment the weirdo who did those two songs for the Lion King, and became a musical icon. Weird how my mind works.
7. Children of the Revolution - Bono, Gavin Friday, Maurice Seezer -- A T. Rex song. Actually not much here. Believe it or not talking about Bono bores me these days
8. One Day I'll Fly Away - Nicole Kidman -- old Jazz standard by Kidman here
9. Diamond Dogs - Beck -- just really one kickass artist doing his thing. Every album is so different from the last its hard to realize their the same guy. I remember belting out Loser in middle school & grooving to Midnite Vultures in high school, but both those memories are on completely different wavelengths.
10. Elephant Love Medley - Nicole Kidman & Ewan McGregor -- At the time I could only identify pieces of this roller coaster of homages. To effortlessly glide from KISS to U2 to the Beatles to disco queen Thelma Houston I was impressed as hell. This medley gets at the very postmodern heart of this film. These songs like "Up Where We Belong" and "I Will Always Love You" already exist to evoke certain movie moments (whether it be An Officer and a Gentleman, or The Bodyguard), but Lurhman pilfered them perfectly, to not only recall those emotions, but project his own gravitas on those already in place.
11. Come What May - Nicole Kidman & Ewan McGregor -- I was miffed during Oscar season that this was not nominated for Best Original Song. It prompted a very close examining of the rules for that an other categories. Because the song was originally written for Romeo + Juliet, it could not qualify for the category for the wholly different movie.
12. El Tango de Roxanne - Ewan McGregor, Jose Feliciano, Jacek Koman -- I'll get there
13. Complainte De La Butte - Rufus Wainwright - My sister recognized his voice, prompted me to gift her his CD, then I heard him sing "Hallelujah," see my first songbook blog for the rest.
14. Hindi Sad Diamonds - Nicole Kidman, John Legizamo, Alka Yagnik -- Ahh the Bollywood-inspired number. Could go any number of ways, including Mira Nair's work, or even Bend it Like Beckham
15. Nature Boy - David Bowie & Massive Attack -- that sets up a wicked tangent on house music
All of these don't even begin to scratch the surface on my initial fascination with Baz Lurhman and his take on Romeo + Juliet. I was so enamored with that world he created. The reason so many of my online login names include the Shakespeare character Mercutio is because of that movie. Harold Perrineau (pre LOST and pre Matrix) created a version of that character that found extremely daring and charismatic. But alas I digress....in a big way....Back to El Tango de Roxanne.
--
"Roxanne" ... Its embarrassing to admit that I never considered what the 1978 Police track was actually about. It took its re-imagining for Moulin Rouge as a tango, for me to recognize that its a song about a French prostitute.
As Satine goes to be the Duke to save the production of Spectacular Spectacular, Christian laments his powerlessness. Jacek Koman (The Unconscious Argentinean) performs a steamy tango with Caroline O'Connor (Nini, Legs in the Air). The resulting dance is cross cut with Satine's "encounter" with the Duke. The Argintinean lays it out for Christian that falling in love with someone who sells intimacy to the highest bidder is path to insanity, for "Jealousy will drive you MAD!"
Two distinct things about this track send chills down my spine. The first is the marked difference between the Argentinean's delivery of this song and Sting's original higher range. What can I say I love a good cover song, particular one that is more of a reinterpretation and not simply a tribute band trying to recreate the original sound.
Secondly is the slow building of drama within the track. The backing begins simply... As the song's momentum builds the vocal focus shifts from the Argintinean to Christian, and the backing, builds and builds. The melancholy felt by Christian and Satine underscored through the song is so achingly palatable. They are torn between wanting their love displayed through their art, or rather in actuality in their very lives.
This scene embodies what is magical about musicals. For so many who scoff at the bright and cheery spectacle of a musical production, it is unfathomable that people are driven by songs in their every action, and it's even more strange that one would let that inner song out, and simply sing to show how they feel.
"People don't just break out randomly into song," is the anti-musical sentiment I've had to contend against for so long. And there's a nugget of truth to that, because most people don't. But the feelings that drive and saturate any music exist within us whether we choose to let feeling erupt from us or not.
This may be why I was first drawn to the darker songs in all musicals like "Tango. My favorite track from Chicago is the self-loathing anthem "Mr. Cellophane" Another track responsible was "I've Seen It All" from Dancer in the Dark. Sadness and inner pain made more sense to be set to music at first. As I came to watch and dissect more musicals (My film class on musicals in college turned out to be one of my favorites) I came to appreciate all aspects of the art form.
I discovered gems like Rent, Mamma Mia!, and Sweeney Todd after college, and loved them.
So I'll guess that the melancholy that eloquently shattered the screen and my senses in "Tango de Roxanne" is responsible for a deep-seeded appreciation of the musical genre. They're a tough sell to much of the movie-going public, but feel renewed with each big studio production that makes it to theater (Even if they make to listen to the terrible vocal stylings of Pierce Brosnan sometimes...for every actor who can't sing there are several that can and thank God they still do.)
Friday, November 14, 2008
my songbook pt. 4
For this installment I'd like to examine someone I consider to be one of the best contemporary female vocalists around...Imogen Heap and her song "Hide and Seek"
My introduction to Imogen Heap was in one of the huge center's to my geekdom in my senior year of college. After my laptop and DVD collection were stolen from my room one fateful Christmas break, I was forced to purchase a new laptop, and I was wooed into the world of Apple, by my friend Ozzie. After having a such a horrible time with my Gateway laptop, my G4 Powerbook was a godsend.
I began to stockpile movie trailers from the Apple website. One of the most impressive was the initial teaser trailer for Zach Braff's indie darling Garden State. With my filmic eye at its zenith from all of my film studies classics, I was wowed by this wordless film trailer that relied solely on its impressive film shots and the haunting Frou Frou track "Let Go." Ozzie laughed in my face when I informed him what I had discovered about Frou Frou following the viewing of the trailer. He informed me that he was aware of the artist before seeing the trailer and geeked out when he heard the song in the theater. He had a play count for "Let Go" in his iTunes over a hundred.
I've largely championed Garden State as being one of my favorite films, but its trendiness has softened some of its largess in my minds eye in the years following its release. Much of its hipness has turned sour due to cliche. More than any of the awards it garnered; I was most satisfied with its Grammy win for Soundtrack Compilation, and I felt that the Frou Frou track had much to do with that.
Zach's music choices were eye-opening to me. I was introduced to artists like The Shins, Zero 7, Iron & Wine, Remy Zero; and I was forced to take a second look at artists like Coldplay and Colin Hay. As I entrenched myself in the films songs I noticed a glaring ommission in the film soundtrack (much like in Dazed and Confused with "Hurricane"). Alexi Murdoch's "Orange Sky" which played over the hamster Jelly's funeral was nowhere to be found. I quickly found that the song was a part of first soundtrack compilation for the TV show "The O.C.", and therefore couldn't be legally included in the Garden State soundtrack.
I had avoided "The O.C." like the plague because it was so immensely popular. But this was now two songs on that first compilation that I really dug (The first being "The Way We Get By" by Spoon, that I had on a mix CD) so I decided to seek out the rest of the compilation. And thus the hook was set, and I was slowly drawn into a cheesy teen soap opera.
I was able to justify my dedication to the show because of the music (damn you Stephanie Savage, Josh Schwartz, and Alexandra Patsavas). In the second season they introduced a live music venue called The Bait Shop, where they were able to showcase up and coming artists. Here I was introduced to Modest Mouse, Death Cab for Cutie, The Killers,
Another big player in the second season was none other than Imogen Heap. No longer a part of Frou Frou, her song "Goodnight and Go" was featured early on the show, and garnered a fair bit of mainstream play following the show's airing. Then her song "Hide and Seek" became the centerpiece of the Season 2 season finale, first backing the funeral, and then being called back for the show's cliffhanger open-mouth ending.
They say that imitation is the most sincere form of flattery...and there's no better example than the SNL spoof of that very scene. Because I was such a fan of the show the "Dear Sister" digital short made me laugh out loud.
This track cuts me to my core. Imogen's voice by itself is spectacular. The harmonized vocals seem to be the only thing with which you could logically pair it. This haunting song rises and falls beautifully. I used to associate synthesizers and harmonizers with soulless house music, but this song broke down those prejudices.
But what's most amazing is that Heap produced this whole album "Speak for Yourself" by herself. Dissatisfied with how the previous Frou Frou album was mishandled; she took matters into her own hands, and the result is earth-shattering.
Of course then Zach Braff chose to include "Hide and Seek" in the soundtrack for his next film "The Last Kiss." The film came out two years after the songs release, and it had been almost played to death. While the music on the compilation was stellar again, I was disappointed to be familar with the majority of the artists already. Coldplay, Cary Brothers, Remy Zero, Imogen all made their second Braff appearances. But again there were some musician revelations
Snow Patrol - Chocolate -- the song featured in the trailer...almost engineered to feature heavily in a romantic movie; I've since latched tightly to Snow Patrol
Fiona Apple - Paper Bag -- revitalized an interest in someone I dismissed as a one-hit wonder (when I saw her at Vegoose in 2006 she killed it; a much better perfomer live)
Joshua Radin & Schuyler Fisk - Paperweight -- Radin I knew through following my Braff appreciation to Scrubs; the real revelation was Fisk, who I remembered vaguely as Sissy Spacek's daughter who was in that terrible Orange County movie with Tom Hanks son. Being the daughter of The Coal Miner's Daughter, the fact she can belt out a tune comes as no surprise, her being a darling redhead is just icing. I've constantly sought out any and all of her music since. She's currently working on her first album, and her singing has appeared in two other films I'm Reed Fish an Penelope)
So the cycle continues...Thanks Imogen I await your new album as well as Schuyler's first.
My introduction to Imogen Heap was in one of the huge center's to my geekdom in my senior year of college. After my laptop and DVD collection were stolen from my room one fateful Christmas break, I was forced to purchase a new laptop, and I was wooed into the world of Apple, by my friend Ozzie. After having a such a horrible time with my Gateway laptop, my G4 Powerbook was a godsend.
I began to stockpile movie trailers from the Apple website. One of the most impressive was the initial teaser trailer for Zach Braff's indie darling Garden State. With my filmic eye at its zenith from all of my film studies classics, I was wowed by this wordless film trailer that relied solely on its impressive film shots and the haunting Frou Frou track "Let Go." Ozzie laughed in my face when I informed him what I had discovered about Frou Frou following the viewing of the trailer. He informed me that he was aware of the artist before seeing the trailer and geeked out when he heard the song in the theater. He had a play count for "Let Go" in his iTunes over a hundred.
I've largely championed Garden State as being one of my favorite films, but its trendiness has softened some of its largess in my minds eye in the years following its release. Much of its hipness has turned sour due to cliche. More than any of the awards it garnered; I was most satisfied with its Grammy win for Soundtrack Compilation, and I felt that the Frou Frou track had much to do with that.
Zach's music choices were eye-opening to me. I was introduced to artists like The Shins, Zero 7, Iron & Wine, Remy Zero; and I was forced to take a second look at artists like Coldplay and Colin Hay. As I entrenched myself in the films songs I noticed a glaring ommission in the film soundtrack (much like in Dazed and Confused with "Hurricane"). Alexi Murdoch's "Orange Sky" which played over the hamster Jelly's funeral was nowhere to be found. I quickly found that the song was a part of first soundtrack compilation for the TV show "The O.C.", and therefore couldn't be legally included in the Garden State soundtrack.
I had avoided "The O.C." like the plague because it was so immensely popular. But this was now two songs on that first compilation that I really dug (The first being "The Way We Get By" by Spoon, that I had on a mix CD) so I decided to seek out the rest of the compilation. And thus the hook was set, and I was slowly drawn into a cheesy teen soap opera.
I was able to justify my dedication to the show because of the music (damn you Stephanie Savage, Josh Schwartz, and Alexandra Patsavas). In the second season they introduced a live music venue called The Bait Shop, where they were able to showcase up and coming artists. Here I was introduced to Modest Mouse, Death Cab for Cutie, The Killers,
Another big player in the second season was none other than Imogen Heap. No longer a part of Frou Frou, her song "Goodnight and Go" was featured early on the show, and garnered a fair bit of mainstream play following the show's airing. Then her song "Hide and Seek" became the centerpiece of the Season 2 season finale, first backing the funeral, and then being called back for the show's cliffhanger open-mouth ending.
They say that imitation is the most sincere form of flattery...and there's no better example than the SNL spoof of that very scene. Because I was such a fan of the show the "Dear Sister" digital short made me laugh out loud.
This track cuts me to my core. Imogen's voice by itself is spectacular. The harmonized vocals seem to be the only thing with which you could logically pair it. This haunting song rises and falls beautifully. I used to associate synthesizers and harmonizers with soulless house music, but this song broke down those prejudices.
But what's most amazing is that Heap produced this whole album "Speak for Yourself" by herself. Dissatisfied with how the previous Frou Frou album was mishandled; she took matters into her own hands, and the result is earth-shattering.
Of course then Zach Braff chose to include "Hide and Seek" in the soundtrack for his next film "The Last Kiss." The film came out two years after the songs release, and it had been almost played to death. While the music on the compilation was stellar again, I was disappointed to be familar with the majority of the artists already. Coldplay, Cary Brothers, Remy Zero, Imogen all made their second Braff appearances. But again there were some musician revelations
Snow Patrol - Chocolate -- the song featured in the trailer...almost engineered to feature heavily in a romantic movie; I've since latched tightly to Snow Patrol
Fiona Apple - Paper Bag -- revitalized an interest in someone I dismissed as a one-hit wonder (when I saw her at Vegoose in 2006 she killed it; a much better perfomer live)
Joshua Radin & Schuyler Fisk - Paperweight -- Radin I knew through following my Braff appreciation to Scrubs; the real revelation was Fisk, who I remembered vaguely as Sissy Spacek's daughter who was in that terrible Orange County movie with Tom Hanks son. Being the daughter of The Coal Miner's Daughter, the fact she can belt out a tune comes as no surprise, her being a darling redhead is just icing. I've constantly sought out any and all of her music since. She's currently working on her first album, and her singing has appeared in two other films I'm Reed Fish an Penelope)
So the cycle continues...Thanks Imogen I await your new album as well as Schuyler's first.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
my songbook, pt. 3
Song #3 makes me a little bit embarrassed, but it represents an important step in my musical journey.
"Callin' Baton Rouge" -- Garth Brooks
When I was younger I would take great pleasure in ragging on my father for his affinity for some country music. He would put on his Tractors CD, and I would roll my eyes as he would bop along with "Baby Likes to Rock It."
It seemed that country music was destined to be shunned forever after it wasn't included in my "high school classic rock musical epiphany." This epiphany was almost single handedly engineered by Geoff Carson, who amassed a nice CD collection by preying on impressionable freshman such of myself, and gently coercing us into joining the BMG music service. Forced to choose 12 CDs at once, broke down my popular music-centric music tastes into the wonderful realms of classic rock. However the walls of ignorance against country music remained high and mighty.
The first concession I would make would be a few years later, in one of many late night discussions with one Oswald Cuervo. My junior year of high school, we logged some several hundred hours of reflection late night on Baum corridor. I've yet to replicate the frequency and depth of our interchanges. No matter what shenanigans we got into we found time for some chatting. Now that he works on the west coast for the other networking giant Facebook, I've all but completely lost touch.
However I digress...one night we discussed music, and I shared my current interest in one Bob Dylan. I was currently listening to his third Greatest Hits compilaton, almost solely for the inclusion of the song Hurricane. Everytime I heard the nearly nine minute song, I was reminded of the scene in Dazed and Confused were Wooderson, Pink, and Mitch walk through the Emporium, and this song backs their slow-motion stroll. Of all the great music in this film, this was my favorite, and yet it was not included on either of the two soundtracks released.
Some of my favorite parts of the song were the violin solos, and Ozzie had recently acquired an electric violin. He fooled around with it in a band (they couldn't decide on a name so they became known as TBA) that won our school talent show. They had huge sound issues and played only DMB cover songs. (Ozzie would go on to play in a band called Mojo Train at college). But that one night Ozzie plugged his violin into my CD player, and riffed along with "Hurricane." I think at that moment I decided that I really dug the violin in a non-classical music sense. So I was prepared to enjoy a bluegrass fiddle. So I was willing to admit I like the song "The Devil Went Down to Georgia"
...
Cut to college...In a whirlwind of events beginning my second semester freshman year, I had gone against my better judgement and joined a fraternity. Not just any frat mind you, but the bastion of Southern Gentlemen, the Kappa Alpha Order. (How I allowed myself to believe that Southern Gentlemen was the proper description for what were actually Good Ole Boys is still baffling to me).
Now these brothers of mine were mostly from Texas and Alabama, and therefore were raised with a healthy dose of country music. Every Friday we would have kegs at the landfill we called our frat house (lovingly termed the KA Mansion). The archaic sound system would blast a mixture of classic rock and country music. As a lowly pledge I had no input into the DJ choices, so I had little recourse but to withstand this barrage of country. Needless to say I lost this war of attrition, much like my friend from high school Birdsey had continually hammered me with his bootleg Phish concert tapes until I actually dug them.
My concessions for country music started small. After hearing Pat Green and Robert Earl Keen so many times, I could barely classify them as country so I began to allow that I enjoyed "Texas country" because the line between Texas country and rock wasn't well defined in my mind. Cory Morrow,
And slowly the other songs that I heard every Friday stopped grating against my eardrums. And late one night when I heard myself belting out the words to "Callin' Baton Rouge" There was now no mistaking it. I knew all the words to a Garth Brooks song. Chris Gaines himself. All the words. Even several cups of keg beer deep. Needless to say...I was a little shocked.
As I came to terms with my light appreciation of country music, I started to explore more and more. This includes finding contemporary gems like Alison Krauss, and fully exploring the catalogs of legends like Johnny Cash. All thanks to Mr. "Friends in Low Places" Brooks.
I can now ridicule with a clean conscience all those lazy people who, when asked to list their favorite bands simply write "anything but country"
You're clearly missing the boat.
"Callin' Baton Rouge" -- Garth Brooks
When I was younger I would take great pleasure in ragging on my father for his affinity for some country music. He would put on his Tractors CD, and I would roll my eyes as he would bop along with "Baby Likes to Rock It."
It seemed that country music was destined to be shunned forever after it wasn't included in my "high school classic rock musical epiphany." This epiphany was almost single handedly engineered by Geoff Carson, who amassed a nice CD collection by preying on impressionable freshman such of myself, and gently coercing us into joining the BMG music service. Forced to choose 12 CDs at once, broke down my popular music-centric music tastes into the wonderful realms of classic rock. However the walls of ignorance against country music remained high and mighty.
The first concession I would make would be a few years later, in one of many late night discussions with one Oswald Cuervo. My junior year of high school, we logged some several hundred hours of reflection late night on Baum corridor. I've yet to replicate the frequency and depth of our interchanges. No matter what shenanigans we got into we found time for some chatting. Now that he works on the west coast for the other networking giant Facebook, I've all but completely lost touch.
However I digress...one night we discussed music, and I shared my current interest in one Bob Dylan. I was currently listening to his third Greatest Hits compilaton, almost solely for the inclusion of the song Hurricane. Everytime I heard the nearly nine minute song, I was reminded of the scene in Dazed and Confused were Wooderson, Pink, and Mitch walk through the Emporium, and this song backs their slow-motion stroll. Of all the great music in this film, this was my favorite, and yet it was not included on either of the two soundtracks released.
Some of my favorite parts of the song were the violin solos, and Ozzie had recently acquired an electric violin. He fooled around with it in a band (they couldn't decide on a name so they became known as TBA) that won our school talent show. They had huge sound issues and played only DMB cover songs. (Ozzie would go on to play in a band called Mojo Train at college). But that one night Ozzie plugged his violin into my CD player, and riffed along with "Hurricane." I think at that moment I decided that I really dug the violin in a non-classical music sense. So I was prepared to enjoy a bluegrass fiddle. So I was willing to admit I like the song "The Devil Went Down to Georgia"
...
Cut to college...In a whirlwind of events beginning my second semester freshman year, I had gone against my better judgement and joined a fraternity. Not just any frat mind you, but the bastion of Southern Gentlemen, the Kappa Alpha Order. (How I allowed myself to believe that Southern Gentlemen was the proper description for what were actually Good Ole Boys is still baffling to me).
Now these brothers of mine were mostly from Texas and Alabama, and therefore were raised with a healthy dose of country music. Every Friday we would have kegs at the landfill we called our frat house (lovingly termed the KA Mansion). The archaic sound system would blast a mixture of classic rock and country music. As a lowly pledge I had no input into the DJ choices, so I had little recourse but to withstand this barrage of country. Needless to say I lost this war of attrition, much like my friend from high school Birdsey had continually hammered me with his bootleg Phish concert tapes until I actually dug them.
My concessions for country music started small. After hearing Pat Green and Robert Earl Keen so many times, I could barely classify them as country so I began to allow that I enjoyed "Texas country" because the line between Texas country and rock wasn't well defined in my mind. Cory Morrow,
And slowly the other songs that I heard every Friday stopped grating against my eardrums. And late one night when I heard myself belting out the words to "Callin' Baton Rouge" There was now no mistaking it. I knew all the words to a Garth Brooks song. Chris Gaines himself. All the words. Even several cups of keg beer deep. Needless to say...I was a little shocked.
As I came to terms with my light appreciation of country music, I started to explore more and more. This includes finding contemporary gems like Alison Krauss, and fully exploring the catalogs of legends like Johnny Cash. All thanks to Mr. "Friends in Low Places" Brooks.
I can now ridicule with a clean conscience all those lazy people who, when asked to list their favorite bands simply write "anything but country"
You're clearly missing the boat.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
my songbook pt. 2
Time for another entry into my own personal songbook/mixtape/blog. Today's song:
"Fell On Black Days" - Soundgarden (1994)
I mentioned in my previous blog that the reason I never heard of Jeff Buckley was because I was too busy listening to Seattle grunge. I must qualify that to recognize that in my middle school days, as these were, my musical scope rarely extended off the Billboard top 100 charts. Its not as if I was a diehard grunge fan.
I listened to the radio. Grunge was all over the radio. I didn't grow my hair long, although I did try to bang my head to Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, etc. I did occasionally rock some flannel, but it wasn't a daily look. Its a little sickening to think that the only reason I liked grunge music is because so many other people did.
But the truth is...I've made no real music discoveries over my life. Since my iPod dominates my life, I no longer listen to the radio. MTV no longer plays music videos (that I know of) so I can't so easily glean my music from them. There are several musicians that hooked me back in those glory days that I still keep up with when they come out with new albums (side note I'm really digging the new Ben Folds album "Way to Normal"). I've realized now I've become hooked on accompanying music. Music that accompanies TV shows, movies, commercials. So I'm only indirectly choosing the music that I like. I'm thankful for the music supervisors of the world. The Stepanie Savages and Zack Braff's of this world.
What I can take solace in, is that my fandom is only rarely skin deep. Soundgarden's 1994 album Superunknown was hugely successful thanks in most part to its most popular singles "Black Hole Sun" and "Spoonman" Not to bag on those two songs, but most of their weight is based in a hella-creepy music video (that still turns my stomach a little bit) and a kitchen utensil gimmick.
From maybe the second go-round through my cassette, I was certain that "Fell On Black Days" was my favorite track. Chris Cornell's silky voice was most certainly the best of the era (I can't say that without mentioning that Scott Weiland comes in a very close second). This track serves as a ridiculous oppurtunity to show off his terrific range. It opens with that smooth guitar hook by Kim Thayill. For about two-thirds of the song Cornell sings softly yet firmly, but in the last bit he elevates to a controlled scream that still manages to sit under the actual music.
The song was written by Cornell and he describes it as "like this ongoing fear I've had for years...It's a feeling that everyone gets. You're happy with your life, everything's going well, things are exciting - when all of a sudden you realise you're unhappy in the extreme, to the point of being really, really scared." Reading that quote it suddenly makes sense why I identified with that song so well.
Soundgarden is the one band of that Seattle gringe mid 90's boon whose arch ended abruptly as I moved on to high school. Sure some of the others had bigger stories. Nirvana's lead singer stopped making new music, but new Nirvana CD's continued to come out. It always seemed weird to me that Dave Grohl fronted a popular band after Nirvana...why not stick to drums (maybe thats why I liked Queens of the Stone Age). Scott Weiland has had some trouble keeping out of prison, but he's back with STP. Getting to see them in October 2000 at Voodoo Fest was a special treat. He was clean and they played almost an entirely mid-90's set. My love for Smashing Pumpkins was partially shattered when I discovered Billy Corigan is a really spotty live performer. Pearl Jam wavers in and out of my interest. One good album, a bad one, a good one again; I stopped depending on them, (however Eddie Vedder's score for Into the Wild was amazing).
When the first whiff of the formation of Audioslave, featuring Chris Cornell back in the saddle with Tom Morello and the other parts of Rage Against the Machine, hit me I nearly cried tears of joy. And the marriage of those two rock dynamo's was a smashing success. I enjoyed all three albums they released; however the third was weak enough that it was no surprise that the supergroup wouldn't last too much longer.
I do still find myself longing for the old Soundgarden though. No offense to you and your politics Morello. RATM doesn't occupy the same time in my life as Soundgarden does. I was on the cusp of my musical awakening that I would experience my freshman year of high school. When I learned that I could listen to older music and enjoy it more than the songs on the radio. When I could listen to Led Zeppelin and hear pieces of of contemporary artists.
Listening to "Fell On Black Days" reminds me of time when my tastes were simpler. When all things in my life were simpler.
"Fell On Black Days" - Soundgarden (1994)
I mentioned in my previous blog that the reason I never heard of Jeff Buckley was because I was too busy listening to Seattle grunge. I must qualify that to recognize that in my middle school days, as these were, my musical scope rarely extended off the Billboard top 100 charts. Its not as if I was a diehard grunge fan.
I listened to the radio. Grunge was all over the radio. I didn't grow my hair long, although I did try to bang my head to Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, etc. I did occasionally rock some flannel, but it wasn't a daily look. Its a little sickening to think that the only reason I liked grunge music is because so many other people did.
But the truth is...I've made no real music discoveries over my life. Since my iPod dominates my life, I no longer listen to the radio. MTV no longer plays music videos (that I know of) so I can't so easily glean my music from them. There are several musicians that hooked me back in those glory days that I still keep up with when they come out with new albums (side note I'm really digging the new Ben Folds album "Way to Normal"). I've realized now I've become hooked on accompanying music. Music that accompanies TV shows, movies, commercials. So I'm only indirectly choosing the music that I like. I'm thankful for the music supervisors of the world. The Stepanie Savages and Zack Braff's of this world.
What I can take solace in, is that my fandom is only rarely skin deep. Soundgarden's 1994 album Superunknown was hugely successful thanks in most part to its most popular singles "Black Hole Sun" and "Spoonman" Not to bag on those two songs, but most of their weight is based in a hella-creepy music video (that still turns my stomach a little bit) and a kitchen utensil gimmick.
From maybe the second go-round through my cassette, I was certain that "Fell On Black Days" was my favorite track. Chris Cornell's silky voice was most certainly the best of the era (I can't say that without mentioning that Scott Weiland comes in a very close second). This track serves as a ridiculous oppurtunity to show off his terrific range. It opens with that smooth guitar hook by Kim Thayill. For about two-thirds of the song Cornell sings softly yet firmly, but in the last bit he elevates to a controlled scream that still manages to sit under the actual music.
The song was written by Cornell and he describes it as "like this ongoing fear I've had for years...It's a feeling that everyone gets. You're happy with your life, everything's going well, things are exciting - when all of a sudden you realise you're unhappy in the extreme, to the point of being really, really scared." Reading that quote it suddenly makes sense why I identified with that song so well.
Soundgarden is the one band of that Seattle gringe mid 90's boon whose arch ended abruptly as I moved on to high school. Sure some of the others had bigger stories. Nirvana's lead singer stopped making new music, but new Nirvana CD's continued to come out. It always seemed weird to me that Dave Grohl fronted a popular band after Nirvana...why not stick to drums (maybe thats why I liked Queens of the Stone Age). Scott Weiland has had some trouble keeping out of prison, but he's back with STP. Getting to see them in October 2000 at Voodoo Fest was a special treat. He was clean and they played almost an entirely mid-90's set. My love for Smashing Pumpkins was partially shattered when I discovered Billy Corigan is a really spotty live performer. Pearl Jam wavers in and out of my interest. One good album, a bad one, a good one again; I stopped depending on them, (however Eddie Vedder's score for Into the Wild was amazing).
When the first whiff of the formation of Audioslave, featuring Chris Cornell back in the saddle with Tom Morello and the other parts of Rage Against the Machine, hit me I nearly cried tears of joy. And the marriage of those two rock dynamo's was a smashing success. I enjoyed all three albums they released; however the third was weak enough that it was no surprise that the supergroup wouldn't last too much longer.
I do still find myself longing for the old Soundgarden though. No offense to you and your politics Morello. RATM doesn't occupy the same time in my life as Soundgarden does. I was on the cusp of my musical awakening that I would experience my freshman year of high school. When I learned that I could listen to older music and enjoy it more than the songs on the radio. When I could listen to Led Zeppelin and hear pieces of of contemporary artists.
Listening to "Fell On Black Days" reminds me of time when my tastes were simpler. When all things in my life were simpler.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
my songbook pt. 1
So I am currently reading the book Songbook by Nick Hornby. This is the limey bastard that wrote the literary inspirations for About a Boy, Fever Pitch, and most famously High Fidelity. This book is a collection of 31 essays on different popular music songs. In the first essay that is termed the introduction, Hornby describes a spectacular realization regarding why certain important songs are associated with certain feelings and sensations:
"If you love a song, love it enough for it to accompany you throughout different stages in your life, then any specific memory is rubbed away by use."
Not all of the 31 songs he pines about take him back to simply a certain place and time. But that happens for all of us. My father asked me some years ago to make him mix CD with several classic rock songs. As he listened the the finished product he talked about some of the tracks in particular and how they reminded him of his days in high school and so on. I realized that these associations explain my enjoyment of these silly "I love the 80's" shows on VH1. But I digress...back to Hornby's essays.
Some correspond to revelations in his personal and professional life. The end result, this book comes off like a mixtape of essays, much like a compliation lovingly constructed by Hornby's Fidelity character Rob Gordon. I was only about 5 essays into the book, when I thought that I could create a collection within this blog. One that would very much be my own.
I don't know how many songs I will end up featuring (the first shortlist I've compiled features ten songs, I figure I may find about five more). My big fight will be keeping movie chatter out of these blogs. I will try to limit focusing on songs that I have interacted with majorly having to do with movies.
I encourage you who read to comment on the blog...if you have a particular take on the song or the subject on the blog. I would also love to read your own mixtape of songs.
The first song I've decided to talk about is:
"Hallelujah" -- Jeff Buckley
This haunting cover of Leonard Cohen's 1984 song is my favorite version of the song even though its not the first version I ever heard. A quick iTunes search reveals that I have 7 different versions of this song in my collection (of the reported 170 different versions that have been produced. There is one other song in my collection that I have so many versions of...that I will also talk about soon enough.
Hallelujah has come to be known as a soundtrack song. Not a year goes by that it isn't featured in some movie of television show to underscore an emoitional celluloid moment. Its melancholy tone lends it to many emotional scenes to denote depression. Or it can be flipped with certain lyrics like my favorite "I used to live alone before I knew you" or "her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you" to partner with romantic undertones. Even Letterman used it recently in a homage to Paul Newman.
Truth is it is a beautiful song that blipped on my radar because of its use in the movie Shrek. I had recently bought a Rufus Wainwright album for my sister, and was captivated by his vocal ability. I recognized his voice, listening to the song in the film, and sought to learn more about this incredible song.
This was a time in my life when I began to fully utilize the internet to expand my knowledge of the music that intrigued me. A search revealed that this song was in fact written by Leonard Cohen, whose was responsible for another of my favorite songs "Everybody Knows." Thus began my long love affair with cover songs that were better than their orignials.
I was dissatisfied with Cohen's version of the song, but soon discovered that their were many others. Some of them were terrible (Bono's makes my ears bleed), but others like Buckley's were transcendent. Its remarkable when a cover of a good song can make it great or even swallow up the original entirely. Hendrix's take on Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower" is leagues better (it blew my mind when I found out that wasn't a Hendrix song). Other times, its a cheap ploy by a struggling artist: Jessica Simpson singing "These Boots are Made for Walking" comes to mind first).
But the reason this song has stayed with me is the ensuing things I found out about Jeff Buckley. An American singer/songwirter whose light was extinguished way too early. His album Grace came out in 1994, when I was too busy listening to Seattle grunge to pay attention to this soft singer's genius. This artist I had never heard of is to this day in the mixtapes and CD players of my idols. His stamp on music grows because he took Cohen's song and elevated it into the stratosphere, so that those who create art (movies, tv, etc.) constantly look to it for an emotional punch.
It reminds me how so many of us long to make an impact on the world, even if its the softest impact imaginable.
...Next song coming soon... :)
"If you love a song, love it enough for it to accompany you throughout different stages in your life, then any specific memory is rubbed away by use."
Not all of the 31 songs he pines about take him back to simply a certain place and time. But that happens for all of us. My father asked me some years ago to make him mix CD with several classic rock songs. As he listened the the finished product he talked about some of the tracks in particular and how they reminded him of his days in high school and so on. I realized that these associations explain my enjoyment of these silly "I love the 80's" shows on VH1. But I digress...back to Hornby's essays.
Some correspond to revelations in his personal and professional life. The end result, this book comes off like a mixtape of essays, much like a compliation lovingly constructed by Hornby's Fidelity character Rob Gordon. I was only about 5 essays into the book, when I thought that I could create a collection within this blog. One that would very much be my own.
I don't know how many songs I will end up featuring (the first shortlist I've compiled features ten songs, I figure I may find about five more). My big fight will be keeping movie chatter out of these blogs. I will try to limit focusing on songs that I have interacted with majorly having to do with movies.
I encourage you who read to comment on the blog...if you have a particular take on the song or the subject on the blog. I would also love to read your own mixtape of songs.
The first song I've decided to talk about is:
"Hallelujah" -- Jeff Buckley
This haunting cover of Leonard Cohen's 1984 song is my favorite version of the song even though its not the first version I ever heard. A quick iTunes search reveals that I have 7 different versions of this song in my collection (of the reported 170 different versions that have been produced. There is one other song in my collection that I have so many versions of...that I will also talk about soon enough.
Hallelujah has come to be known as a soundtrack song. Not a year goes by that it isn't featured in some movie of television show to underscore an emoitional celluloid moment. Its melancholy tone lends it to many emotional scenes to denote depression. Or it can be flipped with certain lyrics like my favorite "I used to live alone before I knew you" or "her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you" to partner with romantic undertones. Even Letterman used it recently in a homage to Paul Newman.
Truth is it is a beautiful song that blipped on my radar because of its use in the movie Shrek. I had recently bought a Rufus Wainwright album for my sister, and was captivated by his vocal ability. I recognized his voice, listening to the song in the film, and sought to learn more about this incredible song.
This was a time in my life when I began to fully utilize the internet to expand my knowledge of the music that intrigued me. A search revealed that this song was in fact written by Leonard Cohen, whose was responsible for another of my favorite songs "Everybody Knows." Thus began my long love affair with cover songs that were better than their orignials.
I was dissatisfied with Cohen's version of the song, but soon discovered that their were many others. Some of them were terrible (Bono's makes my ears bleed), but others like Buckley's were transcendent. Its remarkable when a cover of a good song can make it great or even swallow up the original entirely. Hendrix's take on Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower" is leagues better (it blew my mind when I found out that wasn't a Hendrix song). Other times, its a cheap ploy by a struggling artist: Jessica Simpson singing "These Boots are Made for Walking" comes to mind first).
But the reason this song has stayed with me is the ensuing things I found out about Jeff Buckley. An American singer/songwirter whose light was extinguished way too early. His album Grace came out in 1994, when I was too busy listening to Seattle grunge to pay attention to this soft singer's genius. This artist I had never heard of is to this day in the mixtapes and CD players of my idols. His stamp on music grows because he took Cohen's song and elevated it into the stratosphere, so that those who create art (movies, tv, etc.) constantly look to it for an emotional punch.
It reminds me how so many of us long to make an impact on the world, even if its the softest impact imaginable.
...Next song coming soon... :)
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
the worst place to wake up
When I came to, I was surrounded by annoyed medical professionals who calmly told me to lay back, try to relax, and to tell them what I had drank that night. My vision was blurred, my motor skills weren't all there, and my chest was on fire. Slowly I realized I had passed out for the umpteenth time due to drinking, and this time I had actually been taken to the hospital.
It was Homecoming my senior year at college. My fraternity made a little formal date party of the event, and I being of supreme wisdom had declined to bring a date. The idea of coat-and-tie tailgating seems absurd to me five years later, mainly because I associate tailgating with less than formal pursuits like shotgunning beers and messy barbeque finger foods. However our fraternity's alumni had put together a nice little spread under our tent, with jambalaya and several different bottles of whiskey. Little did I know that at the end of the evening I would be waking up in the second-worst place to wake up following a drinking stupor.
My most impressive blackout feat to this point in time had been our semi-formal party my sophmore year, when I had awakened in the bushes across the street from the New Orleans Convention Center at 7 in the morning, just next to the off ramp of Interstate 10. I was wearing my brown suit (which blended into the mulch I was laying in). I had however lost my tie, and one of my shoes. I cabbed it back to campus (amazingly I still had my wallet). The cab-driver mentioned that I was missing a shoe, and I agreed with him quietly, and we finished the ride in silence. That evening we had a fraternity meeting, and no one could piece together what happened to me. It would be the first of many times over the next three years that I would black out, and simply wander away at night.
In rampant denial of my alcoholism, I noted that my date to that night's function, had left very early in the night to take care of a friend of hers. With her gone I ceased to curtail my drinking to a reasonable level, and swiftly imbibed myself into a bush. If in fact the lack of a date catalyzed my drinking, it did not bode well for me two years later at homecoming when I was dateless for the whole event, and wearing that same "lucky" brown suit.
At homecoming senior year, I did not see one actual football play executed. I stayed outside the stadium for both halves, only venturing in for the halftime show to see the featured act Outkast. Filming an MTV special, they performed their latest hit Hey Ya! twice in a row, much to the chagrin of the full stadium standing in a light, drizzling rain. I focused on counting bottles that day instead of downs. I progressed throughout the day from Makers Mark, to Jack Daniels, to my old standby Jim Beam. We simply kept finishing the bottles so I had to move on to what I gauged was the next best thing.
I remember heading from homecoming to a bar following the game. We had some food out, and a keg tapped there was laughing and dancing ... This is where the memories end. When I came to, my "lucky" brown suit was still on me. However the hospital staff had cut right sleeve of the coat lengthwise to my shoulder, to put in my IV and get me rehydrated. I distinctly remember how curtly I was being admonished by one nurse in particular, as if to say "Christ, why do I have to babysit these drunk college kids?"
Oh and reason my chest burned was because I had been given a sternum rub to determine how deep my alcohol coma was. I had not come to as a some doctors knuckles had scraped up and down my sternum, prompting the destruction of my favorite suit coat and button-down shirt.
Once again, none of my fraternity brothers had any idea that I was in the hospital. My brother happened to be in town with a friend from high school, and he called my cell phone, and was given the story when a nurse picked up on my end. He came and picked me up at the hospital and left me in my own bed with a bottle of Gatorade.
I reflect on this story now, because I realize that waking up in the hospital is probably the next to worst place to wake up, and I really hope I never experience the first. In my estimation the worst place to wake up would in fact be jail. A good friend of mine recently told me that
...
I've been tossing this story around recently because an acquaintance of mine recently found himself arrested, and in that worst place, for the second time. I had seen him just prior to an incident which ultimately led to him ending up in jail again.
A good friend of mine who cares deeply for this person went out on the line for this unlucky individual, securing his bail through a bail bondsman. I don't believe he's gotten much support from those close to him for this decision.
My friend cares deeply for this individual, and feels that he doesn't deserve to stay in jail while he waits for his court date. At the advice of his lawyer he also believes that the judge will be more likely to be lenient should the individual show up in civilian clothes rather than an orange jumpsuit.
I've still not decided how I feel overall about the situation. I did not know the individual in question well enough to justify securing his bail as my friend did. I know many friends who I would jump to help in a time of need, and similarly those who would come to my aid. What if I should I do something to one day warrant ending up in jail? So my friends and/or family come to my rescue. What if I follow up that kindness, and end up in jail again? At what point do they stop trying to rescue me?
I hope that things iron out as this situation unfolds. I am simply a spectator to this contest. I can only wish for the best; I can't do anything to influence the outcome.
The board is set...the pieces are moving. I can only pray this ends well.
It was Homecoming my senior year at college. My fraternity made a little formal date party of the event, and I being of supreme wisdom had declined to bring a date. The idea of coat-and-tie tailgating seems absurd to me five years later, mainly because I associate tailgating with less than formal pursuits like shotgunning beers and messy barbeque finger foods. However our fraternity's alumni had put together a nice little spread under our tent, with jambalaya and several different bottles of whiskey. Little did I know that at the end of the evening I would be waking up in the second-worst place to wake up following a drinking stupor.
My most impressive blackout feat to this point in time had been our semi-formal party my sophmore year, when I had awakened in the bushes across the street from the New Orleans Convention Center at 7 in the morning, just next to the off ramp of Interstate 10. I was wearing my brown suit (which blended into the mulch I was laying in). I had however lost my tie, and one of my shoes. I cabbed it back to campus (amazingly I still had my wallet). The cab-driver mentioned that I was missing a shoe, and I agreed with him quietly, and we finished the ride in silence. That evening we had a fraternity meeting, and no one could piece together what happened to me. It would be the first of many times over the next three years that I would black out, and simply wander away at night.
In rampant denial of my alcoholism, I noted that my date to that night's function, had left very early in the night to take care of a friend of hers. With her gone I ceased to curtail my drinking to a reasonable level, and swiftly imbibed myself into a bush. If in fact the lack of a date catalyzed my drinking, it did not bode well for me two years later at homecoming when I was dateless for the whole event, and wearing that same "lucky" brown suit.
At homecoming senior year, I did not see one actual football play executed. I stayed outside the stadium for both halves, only venturing in for the halftime show to see the featured act Outkast. Filming an MTV special, they performed their latest hit Hey Ya! twice in a row, much to the chagrin of the full stadium standing in a light, drizzling rain. I focused on counting bottles that day instead of downs. I progressed throughout the day from Makers Mark, to Jack Daniels, to my old standby Jim Beam. We simply kept finishing the bottles so I had to move on to what I gauged was the next best thing.
I remember heading from homecoming to a bar following the game. We had some food out, and a keg tapped there was laughing and dancing ... This is where the memories end. When I came to, my "lucky" brown suit was still on me. However the hospital staff had cut right sleeve of the coat lengthwise to my shoulder, to put in my IV and get me rehydrated. I distinctly remember how curtly I was being admonished by one nurse in particular, as if to say "Christ, why do I have to babysit these drunk college kids?"
Oh and reason my chest burned was because I had been given a sternum rub to determine how deep my alcohol coma was. I had not come to as a some doctors knuckles had scraped up and down my sternum, prompting the destruction of my favorite suit coat and button-down shirt.
Once again, none of my fraternity brothers had any idea that I was in the hospital. My brother happened to be in town with a friend from high school, and he called my cell phone, and was given the story when a nurse picked up on my end. He came and picked me up at the hospital and left me in my own bed with a bottle of Gatorade.
I reflect on this story now, because I realize that waking up in the hospital is probably the next to worst place to wake up, and I really hope I never experience the first. In my estimation the worst place to wake up would in fact be jail. A good friend of mine recently told me that
...
I've been tossing this story around recently because an acquaintance of mine recently found himself arrested, and in that worst place, for the second time. I had seen him just prior to an incident which ultimately led to him ending up in jail again.
A good friend of mine who cares deeply for this person went out on the line for this unlucky individual, securing his bail through a bail bondsman. I don't believe he's gotten much support from those close to him for this decision.
My friend cares deeply for this individual, and feels that he doesn't deserve to stay in jail while he waits for his court date. At the advice of his lawyer he also believes that the judge will be more likely to be lenient should the individual show up in civilian clothes rather than an orange jumpsuit.
I've still not decided how I feel overall about the situation. I did not know the individual in question well enough to justify securing his bail as my friend did. I know many friends who I would jump to help in a time of need, and similarly those who would come to my aid. What if I should I do something to one day warrant ending up in jail? So my friends and/or family come to my rescue. What if I follow up that kindness, and end up in jail again? At what point do they stop trying to rescue me?
I hope that things iron out as this situation unfolds. I am simply a spectator to this contest. I can only wish for the best; I can't do anything to influence the outcome.
The board is set...the pieces are moving. I can only pray this ends well.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
they're digging in the wrong place
How could I ever have doubted them? My anticipation level for the fourth (and long overdue) installment of the Indiana Jones franchise has risen and fallen like the stock market. There was the countless rewrites with several big name, proven screenwriters taking there shot at Indy 4, and being shot down by Lucas in particular. How could he turn away Oscar nominees like M. Night and Darabont. Has he not seen the Sixth Sense or Shawshank? Darabont was a writer for the Young Indiana Jones Chronicles, but noooooo. So they settled finally on David "Spidey" Koepp (shiver)
Then there was the issue about the principals, namely Harrison "I don't care if I'm sixty-something I'm still going to wear an earring" Ford and Jones Senior himself the now-retired Sean Connery. Connery single-handedly saved the franchise in 1989 in Last Crusade, despite Spielberg moll Kate Capshaw's best efforts in Temple of Doom as the worst female action lead ever. But the news that he would not return for this summer's blockbuster, put the Jones crew on shaky ground. And could Ford, who has been without a hit since Air Force One, still don the fedora and crack the whip well enough?
But now for the three bits of good news I heard prior to actually watching the film. They cast Shia LaBeouf as Indiana the Third, the return of Marion Ravenwood, and the movie features aliens. At least the first and last of the these bits of news were met with some trepidation (some it my own).
Shia, lets face it, is everywhere these days. He apparently can't turn down any blockbuster script he's offered, and really why should he. An Emmy-winning child actor, he broke into the business in 2003 with a decent lead turn in a children's movie success Holes, took supporting roles in summer blockbusters for the next three years in hits (and misses) like I Robot, Constantine, and Charlie's Angels Full Throttle, and staked himself to some indie cred with an impressive performance in 2006 Sundance sensation A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints.
Then 2007 became the year of Shia as he carried a Hitchcock remake to March success, then became the envy of every red-blooded malehttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif in America as he became friends with Optimus Prime, and locked lips with Megan Fox in Transformers. Many people I think viewed his casting in Jones 4 to be a cheap ploy towards a younger audience, but I'm inclined to believe otherwise. I think this kid can act.
Then was the return of Karen Allen. Marion Ravenwood is one of the key points to my argument that Raiders of the Lost Ark is one of the greatest movies ever made. She was as balanced as a female character could be while still occupying that shoe-horned role of damsel in distress. She runs a bar, can drink any man under the table, and is very handy in a fight. Yet she goes gooey in Jones' hands, and becomes the girl that needs rescuing. I heard an inkling that Willie Scott would also cross paths with Indy in this film, but thank god someone put a kibosh on that. In fact, in the film when Marion and Indy fight, he notes that no woman he has been with since her had measured up. This was the ultimate slap in the face to Temple of Doom in my eyes, which of course is well-deserved. Crusade escapes harm from this though as Dr. Schneider turned out to be a villain.
And then of course there is the presence of aliens within the movies plot. My first thought was NO EFFING WAY. Indiana Jones deals with Mysticism, Nazi's, impossible-to-please parents. But then I realized that paring I should have considered was that this was Steve Spielberg yet again tackling alien encounters. As far as movies about aliens go, the man has absolutely knocked it out the park on two outta three tries, and according to Meatloaf "that ain't bad." (Plus I can ignore WOTW due to my hatred of Tom Cruise and the fact that its a remake)
My Cruise-loathing aside...this movie had me at hello. They opened with the original Paramount logo screen that dissolves into the movie's opening shot...just like each of the previous Jones movie's have done. The opening scene blares Elvis's Hound Dog over joyriding teens entrenching the movie in the 50's, and of course toys with its viewers with the reveal of your hero as he's pulled from the trunk of the car, first with the appearance of "The Hat," then the silhouette, and then of course Jones' annoyed snarl. As I viewed Ford at that moment I was drawn back to one of Jones' most memorable lines from the original film: "Its not the years honey, its the mileage." This would become this films mantra, as they fought every instinct along the way to modernize this film and made it just like the Jones movies of old.
Cate Blanchett does of course brilliant work as KGB psychic Irina Spalko, but I felt her casting was a bit wrong. I think that character would have been better suited to have been played by someone less high profile. Substituting the KGB as Jones' foil for the Nazis worked very well however.
But mainly this movie works because of homage and tradition. The introduction of LaBeouf's Mutt Williams is so steeped in movie lore its ridiculous. He appears on a motorcycle costumed almost to a T, just like Marlon Brando in A Wild One. Throw in a dash of Rebel Without a Cause, and stir in a pinch of the Outsiders, and voila there's Mutt. There was the Wilhelm scream featured for the umpteenth time in the library. There was even a rare homage reversal of sorts. The scene which features swarms of ginormous ants seemed to be taken directly from the man-eating scarabs from The Mummy...which I always so as a poor mans Indiana Jones movie anyway. And of course you can't have Harrison Ford ever deliver the line, "I have a bad feeling about this," without humming the Star Wars theme.
But the real homages are to the previous Jones movies. There's the blink-and-you'll-miss-it reappearance of the Ark of the Covenant in the opening hangar scene, and the return of the redline traveling via-map movie device. But I broke into a broad grin, when Jones reflected in his study on the photographs of Henry Jones Jr. and Marcus Brody. Both important cogs in the previous film they were justly acknowledged and remembered. The only person missing was John Rhys Davies's Salah, who I would like to have seen if only for a moment.
The movie worked, because it was an Indiana Jones movie through and through. Jones punched drivers out of vehicles to take the wheel himself. He was constantly kidnapped and forced to lead his enemy to their common goal (because they couldn't do it without him). He saw everything as a riddle, and of course solved them all. And he saw the bigger picture. While all those around him sought treasure and power, Jones, the perennially archaeologist sought to prove the legends he grew up believing, For him it was always about the hunt, and not the prize.
And of course the movie closes on a really well done scene. The wind blows the fedora at Shia's feet, and he picks it up to put it on his own head, only to have it snatched by its rightful owner. The scene encapsulates the film so well. Ford, Spielberg, and Lucas are deftly saying, "We've still got it, and this ain't the end for the ole Jones boys." These fellas are going to clean up with this film, and damn it they deserve it.
Then there was the issue about the principals, namely Harrison "I don't care if I'm sixty-something I'm still going to wear an earring" Ford and Jones Senior himself the now-retired Sean Connery. Connery single-handedly saved the franchise in 1989 in Last Crusade, despite Spielberg moll Kate Capshaw's best efforts in Temple of Doom as the worst female action lead ever. But the news that he would not return for this summer's blockbuster, put the Jones crew on shaky ground. And could Ford, who has been without a hit since Air Force One, still don the fedora and crack the whip well enough?
But now for the three bits of good news I heard prior to actually watching the film. They cast Shia LaBeouf as Indiana the Third, the return of Marion Ravenwood, and the movie features aliens. At least the first and last of the these bits of news were met with some trepidation (some it my own).
Shia, lets face it, is everywhere these days. He apparently can't turn down any blockbuster script he's offered, and really why should he. An Emmy-winning child actor, he broke into the business in 2003 with a decent lead turn in a children's movie success Holes, took supporting roles in summer blockbusters for the next three years in hits (and misses) like I Robot, Constantine, and Charlie's Angels Full Throttle, and staked himself to some indie cred with an impressive performance in 2006 Sundance sensation A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints.
Then 2007 became the year of Shia as he carried a Hitchcock remake to March success, then became the envy of every red-blooded malehttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif in America as he became friends with Optimus Prime, and locked lips with Megan Fox in Transformers. Many people I think viewed his casting in Jones 4 to be a cheap ploy towards a younger audience, but I'm inclined to believe otherwise. I think this kid can act.
Then was the return of Karen Allen. Marion Ravenwood is one of the key points to my argument that Raiders of the Lost Ark is one of the greatest movies ever made. She was as balanced as a female character could be while still occupying that shoe-horned role of damsel in distress. She runs a bar, can drink any man under the table, and is very handy in a fight. Yet she goes gooey in Jones' hands, and becomes the girl that needs rescuing. I heard an inkling that Willie Scott would also cross paths with Indy in this film, but thank god someone put a kibosh on that. In fact, in the film when Marion and Indy fight, he notes that no woman he has been with since her had measured up. This was the ultimate slap in the face to Temple of Doom in my eyes, which of course is well-deserved. Crusade escapes harm from this though as Dr. Schneider turned out to be a villain.
And then of course there is the presence of aliens within the movies plot. My first thought was NO EFFING WAY. Indiana Jones deals with Mysticism, Nazi's, impossible-to-please parents. But then I realized that paring I should have considered was that this was Steve Spielberg yet again tackling alien encounters. As far as movies about aliens go, the man has absolutely knocked it out the park on two outta three tries, and according to Meatloaf "that ain't bad." (Plus I can ignore WOTW due to my hatred of Tom Cruise and the fact that its a remake)
My Cruise-loathing aside...this movie had me at hello. They opened with the original Paramount logo screen that dissolves into the movie's opening shot...just like each of the previous Jones movie's have done. The opening scene blares Elvis's Hound Dog over joyriding teens entrenching the movie in the 50's, and of course toys with its viewers with the reveal of your hero as he's pulled from the trunk of the car, first with the appearance of "The Hat," then the silhouette, and then of course Jones' annoyed snarl. As I viewed Ford at that moment I was drawn back to one of Jones' most memorable lines from the original film: "Its not the years honey, its the mileage." This would become this films mantra, as they fought every instinct along the way to modernize this film and made it just like the Jones movies of old.
Cate Blanchett does of course brilliant work as KGB psychic Irina Spalko, but I felt her casting was a bit wrong. I think that character would have been better suited to have been played by someone less high profile. Substituting the KGB as Jones' foil for the Nazis worked very well however.
But mainly this movie works because of homage and tradition. The introduction of LaBeouf's Mutt Williams is so steeped in movie lore its ridiculous. He appears on a motorcycle costumed almost to a T, just like Marlon Brando in A Wild One. Throw in a dash of Rebel Without a Cause, and stir in a pinch of the Outsiders, and voila there's Mutt. There was the Wilhelm scream featured for the umpteenth time in the library. There was even a rare homage reversal of sorts. The scene which features swarms of ginormous ants seemed to be taken directly from the man-eating scarabs from The Mummy...which I always so as a poor mans Indiana Jones movie anyway. And of course you can't have Harrison Ford ever deliver the line, "I have a bad feeling about this," without humming the Star Wars theme.
But the real homages are to the previous Jones movies. There's the blink-and-you'll-miss-it reappearance of the Ark of the Covenant in the opening hangar scene, and the return of the redline traveling via-map movie device. But I broke into a broad grin, when Jones reflected in his study on the photographs of Henry Jones Jr. and Marcus Brody. Both important cogs in the previous film they were justly acknowledged and remembered. The only person missing was John Rhys Davies's Salah, who I would like to have seen if only for a moment.
The movie worked, because it was an Indiana Jones movie through and through. Jones punched drivers out of vehicles to take the wheel himself. He was constantly kidnapped and forced to lead his enemy to their common goal (because they couldn't do it without him). He saw everything as a riddle, and of course solved them all. And he saw the bigger picture. While all those around him sought treasure and power, Jones, the perennially archaeologist sought to prove the legends he grew up believing, For him it was always about the hunt, and not the prize.
And of course the movie closes on a really well done scene. The wind blows the fedora at Shia's feet, and he picks it up to put it on his own head, only to have it snatched by its rightful owner. The scene encapsulates the film so well. Ford, Spielberg, and Lucas are deftly saying, "We've still got it, and this ain't the end for the ole Jones boys." These fellas are going to clean up with this film, and damn it they deserve it.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Greetings Starfighter
Poring over my DVD collection the other day, my eyes fell on an old childhood favorite, The Last Starfighter. I couldn't resist, so I popped in for what was probably my tenth overall lifetime viewing, but the first viewing in many years. As I waited for the old Universal DVD trailer to finish immediately the in-movie video game mantra sprang into my head:
"Greetings Starfighter, You have been recruited by the Star League to defend The Frontier, against Xur and the Kodan Armada"
Those words are emblazoned in my brain just like the Pledge of Allegiance. I couldn't wait to revisit the Starlite, Starbrite trailer park, or travel with Centauri to Rylos where he could put me in my very own Gunstar spaceship.
Oh wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. This forgotten piece of science fiction gold, was released in 1984. It was directed by Nick Castle, and starred Lance Guest and the late Robert Preston (in his final film role). This film's claim to sci-fi fame is that it was one of the first films (if not the first) to heavily feature CGI (computer-generated imagery) for its special effects. Star Wars used some in a practical sense, but to the scale of Starfighter or Tron. But I didn't see Tron until college, and besides I was deeply invested in the Starfighter universe.
It is common for any young child to place himself firmly into an engaging movie's canon. But this movie trumped them all for me. I mean come on the male lead's name is Alex Rogan. Yeah thats right, the main reason I loved this movie at all is because I shared the same first name with the main character. That sounds very flimsy, but I couldn't have been older than five when we saw the movie. And besides I have an older brother named Luke, who had THE effing Jedi Knight to share a first name with. Now I've never asked him if he ever grew tired of people joking that they "are his father" or reminding him to "use the force," but if he identified with that Tatooine-farmer-turned-intergalactic-hero even one iota as much as I hero-worshipped Alex Rogan, then I might be his best man, dressed as Boba Fett, at this Star Wars-themed wedding at the Skywalker ranch.
There are three things about this movie that I will always geek out about: the idea of the "Beta" unit, Centauri the alien's removable face, and a car that turns into a spaceship.
When Alex meets Centauri, he shakes hands with Beta in the back-seat, who then becomes a carbon copy of Alex to take his place as he's off the pilot his Gunstar. What sets this film light years ahead of other sci-fi films is the struggles of this robot to assimilate into a tumbleweed trailer park. When I was younger, the scene when he takes off his own head to adjust his ear blew my mind... Funny that watching it now I recognize that there's simply a hole in the desk, for Guest to stick his head out of.
The comic relief provided by Beta is terrific. The biggest thing he can't figure out is how to interact with Alex's girlfriend Maggie (played by Catherine Mary Stewart, before her turn in Weekend at Bernie's). All the couples go up to Silver Lake to fool around, and he's as clueless as a virgin on prom night. So uses his super-hearing to copycat what the lothario Blake says to his girl. Hilarity ensues. Robots are always funny; Just look at Threepio and R-2.
PG movie.... Alien that removes his human-face to clean it enroute to Space city... red glowing eyes... priceless. Nuff said.
And of course there's Centauri's space car. A full year before Doc Brown makes the Delorean hip again in Back to the Future, Robert Preston shows up with a car with wing doors himself. And get this... its actually a spaceship. When the brake lights peeled back to reveal the rockets beneath, I was hooked. Then again I was five or so, so it didn't take much.
As the movie wraps up, I've found that it doesn't hold up well. Thats not to say that I don't still enjoy it, but that now having studied film off-and-on, I see all of the terrible holes in the movie. The way it still works is in reminding me how simple my taste in movies used to be. I was hooked in to this almost solely by the main character's name. And now I'm a diehard sci-fi fan. Imagine how I would have turned out if I had seen A Clockwork Orange instead?
"Greetings Starfighter, You have been recruited by the Star League to defend The Frontier, against Xur and the Kodan Armada"
Those words are emblazoned in my brain just like the Pledge of Allegiance. I couldn't wait to revisit the Starlite, Starbrite trailer park, or travel with Centauri to Rylos where he could put me in my very own Gunstar spaceship.
Oh wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. This forgotten piece of science fiction gold, was released in 1984. It was directed by Nick Castle, and starred Lance Guest and the late Robert Preston (in his final film role). This film's claim to sci-fi fame is that it was one of the first films (if not the first) to heavily feature CGI (computer-generated imagery) for its special effects. Star Wars used some in a practical sense, but to the scale of Starfighter or Tron. But I didn't see Tron until college, and besides I was deeply invested in the Starfighter universe.
It is common for any young child to place himself firmly into an engaging movie's canon. But this movie trumped them all for me. I mean come on the male lead's name is Alex Rogan. Yeah thats right, the main reason I loved this movie at all is because I shared the same first name with the main character. That sounds very flimsy, but I couldn't have been older than five when we saw the movie. And besides I have an older brother named Luke, who had THE effing Jedi Knight to share a first name with. Now I've never asked him if he ever grew tired of people joking that they "are his father" or reminding him to "use the force," but if he identified with that Tatooine-farmer-turned-intergalactic-hero even one iota as much as I hero-worshipped Alex Rogan, then I might be his best man, dressed as Boba Fett, at this Star Wars-themed wedding at the Skywalker ranch.
There are three things about this movie that I will always geek out about: the idea of the "Beta" unit, Centauri the alien's removable face, and a car that turns into a spaceship.
When Alex meets Centauri, he shakes hands with Beta in the back-seat, who then becomes a carbon copy of Alex to take his place as he's off the pilot his Gunstar. What sets this film light years ahead of other sci-fi films is the struggles of this robot to assimilate into a tumbleweed trailer park. When I was younger, the scene when he takes off his own head to adjust his ear blew my mind... Funny that watching it now I recognize that there's simply a hole in the desk, for Guest to stick his head out of.
The comic relief provided by Beta is terrific. The biggest thing he can't figure out is how to interact with Alex's girlfriend Maggie (played by Catherine Mary Stewart, before her turn in Weekend at Bernie's). All the couples go up to Silver Lake to fool around, and he's as clueless as a virgin on prom night. So uses his super-hearing to copycat what the lothario Blake says to his girl. Hilarity ensues. Robots are always funny; Just look at Threepio and R-2.
PG movie.... Alien that removes his human-face to clean it enroute to Space city... red glowing eyes... priceless. Nuff said.
And of course there's Centauri's space car. A full year before Doc Brown makes the Delorean hip again in Back to the Future, Robert Preston shows up with a car with wing doors himself. And get this... its actually a spaceship. When the brake lights peeled back to reveal the rockets beneath, I was hooked. Then again I was five or so, so it didn't take much.
As the movie wraps up, I've found that it doesn't hold up well. Thats not to say that I don't still enjoy it, but that now having studied film off-and-on, I see all of the terrible holes in the movie. The way it still works is in reminding me how simple my taste in movies used to be. I was hooked in to this almost solely by the main character's name. And now I'm a diehard sci-fi fan. Imagine how I would have turned out if I had seen A Clockwork Orange instead?
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