"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.)
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
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... :)
Saturday, October 4, 2008
mad about Mad Men
its embarrassing to admit that I wanted nothing to do with the AMC TV series Mad Men at first glance. It idea of rehashing and glorifying 1960's Manhattan held no appeal for me. I decided that I would try and watch the show solely because one of the featured players was a relatively unknown actress named Christina Hendricks.
I had more or less fallen in love with Hendricks during her three episode arc on the failed Joss Whedon sci-fi western series Firefly. She was a conniving grifter buried in the gorgeous body of a voluptuous redhead. I am a true sucker for redheads in all forms of media and in my everyday life so the hook was not so hard to set. I was depressed to find that she had done very little mainstream work other than Firefly at the time, so when he image showed up in the promos for this period drama I became mildly interested. Turns out she can fill out the clothes of the period quite nicely.
So I randomly tuned in one night last year to what turned out to be episode 8 of 13 from the first season. The show moves a very deliberate pace, and because I was not up to speed with the subtlety of the characters involved I lost interest very quickly and dismissed the show.
Then the accolades at the end of season awards shows began to trickle in and I wondered what I had missed. The lead actor Jon Hamm defeated the favorite Hugh Laurie for the Golden Globe, and the show beat out Grey's for best drama. The SAG awards probably should have followed, but they became a ridiculous love-fest for the Sopranos.
So I queued up the first season in netflix and decided to take a closer look. The first episode "The Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" had me from the opening scene. Jon Hamm as Creative Director at Sterling Cooper (an advertising agency on Madison Avenue; ad men on Madison = Mad Men) is the epitome of all that is cool about the 1960's he's well put together, and well off, with the perfect life. He's unfaithful to his wife like so many men of his stature are in that era, but we learn throughout the series that he doesn't just troll the nightclubs for a nightly tryst; he seeks independent, complete women. These affairs contrast the vapid home life provided by his cookie-cutter housewife. As the layers are peeled back from Draper's character we find him to be anything but the man he projects.
Another character that piqued my interest was the brand new secretary Peggy Olson played by Elisabeth Moss. Olson, fresh from secretarial school, is assigned to Draper. She is wide-eyed and conservative. She's shown the ropes by the vampish office manager Joan Holloway (played by the aforementioned Hendricks) Holloway gives her tips on how to use her femininity to receive small perks around the office, and even recommends her a doctor. Olson also shows character progression, by proving to be more than a secretary, producing copy for two ad campaigns, leading to a promotion at the end of the season. She represents a remarkable duality of a woman who can think for herself, even though she has been raised to be subservient, but who makes the same mistakes of other women in her place despite her uniqueness.
The shows appeal lies in the 1960's cliches that reflect glaringly against today's ideals. Every character smokes cigarettes almost every chance they get, as the dangers of tobacco have yet to be fully realized. The workers at Sterling Cooper barely hide the bottles of liquor in their desks, and partake regularly throughout the workday. One almost believes that they rarely do any actual work. Yet many issues that are still pertinent today are addressed: closeted sexual orientation, marital infidelity, women empowerment in the workplace, escaping a family name, sexism, etc.
But ultimately the series is about our love affair with words, and our desire as a culture to be sold. Ad men make their living on that perfect catch phrase that lassoes the unsuspecting housewife into choosing one brand over the other. The breaking down of the advertising process is intoxicating, and no one seems to know the game better than Don Draper.
I was given chills by his pitch in the final episode of the first season, called "The Wheel." He was producing a campaign for Kodak's new slide projector, in which he must incorporate the new wheel mechanism they have introduced. He mocks the obvious choice other ad agencies would use ("Kodak has clearly re-invented the wheel"). He then delivers a breath-taking pitch while he showed slides of his own family vacation to the Kodak executives (I've broken the lines as it was delivered; with each break pausing for the changing of the slide:
"This device isn't a space ship,
its a time machine.
It goes backwards and forwards;
it takes us to a place where we ache to go again.
Its not called the wheel;
its called the Carosuel,
it lets us travel the way a child travels.
Round and around and back home again.
to a place where we know we are loved."
Its impossible to replicate Hamm's dynamite delivery, or to explain how the words are drowning in personal meaning, as their are several plot lines that hinge on these very words.
All I can say is the show is incredible and I can't wait to see more.
I had more or less fallen in love with Hendricks during her three episode arc on the failed Joss Whedon sci-fi western series Firefly. She was a conniving grifter buried in the gorgeous body of a voluptuous redhead. I am a true sucker for redheads in all forms of media and in my everyday life so the hook was not so hard to set. I was depressed to find that she had done very little mainstream work other than Firefly at the time, so when he image showed up in the promos for this period drama I became mildly interested. Turns out she can fill out the clothes of the period quite nicely.
So I randomly tuned in one night last year to what turned out to be episode 8 of 13 from the first season. The show moves a very deliberate pace, and because I was not up to speed with the subtlety of the characters involved I lost interest very quickly and dismissed the show.
Then the accolades at the end of season awards shows began to trickle in and I wondered what I had missed. The lead actor Jon Hamm defeated the favorite Hugh Laurie for the Golden Globe, and the show beat out Grey's for best drama. The SAG awards probably should have followed, but they became a ridiculous love-fest for the Sopranos.
So I queued up the first season in netflix and decided to take a closer look. The first episode "The Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" had me from the opening scene. Jon Hamm as Creative Director at Sterling Cooper (an advertising agency on Madison Avenue; ad men on Madison = Mad Men) is the epitome of all that is cool about the 1960's he's well put together, and well off, with the perfect life. He's unfaithful to his wife like so many men of his stature are in that era, but we learn throughout the series that he doesn't just troll the nightclubs for a nightly tryst; he seeks independent, complete women. These affairs contrast the vapid home life provided by his cookie-cutter housewife. As the layers are peeled back from Draper's character we find him to be anything but the man he projects.
Another character that piqued my interest was the brand new secretary Peggy Olson played by Elisabeth Moss. Olson, fresh from secretarial school, is assigned to Draper. She is wide-eyed and conservative. She's shown the ropes by the vampish office manager Joan Holloway (played by the aforementioned Hendricks) Holloway gives her tips on how to use her femininity to receive small perks around the office, and even recommends her a doctor. Olson also shows character progression, by proving to be more than a secretary, producing copy for two ad campaigns, leading to a promotion at the end of the season. She represents a remarkable duality of a woman who can think for herself, even though she has been raised to be subservient, but who makes the same mistakes of other women in her place despite her uniqueness.
The shows appeal lies in the 1960's cliches that reflect glaringly against today's ideals. Every character smokes cigarettes almost every chance they get, as the dangers of tobacco have yet to be fully realized. The workers at Sterling Cooper barely hide the bottles of liquor in their desks, and partake regularly throughout the workday. One almost believes that they rarely do any actual work. Yet many issues that are still pertinent today are addressed: closeted sexual orientation, marital infidelity, women empowerment in the workplace, escaping a family name, sexism, etc.
But ultimately the series is about our love affair with words, and our desire as a culture to be sold. Ad men make their living on that perfect catch phrase that lassoes the unsuspecting housewife into choosing one brand over the other. The breaking down of the advertising process is intoxicating, and no one seems to know the game better than Don Draper.
I was given chills by his pitch in the final episode of the first season, called "The Wheel." He was producing a campaign for Kodak's new slide projector, in which he must incorporate the new wheel mechanism they have introduced. He mocks the obvious choice other ad agencies would use ("Kodak has clearly re-invented the wheel"). He then delivers a breath-taking pitch while he showed slides of his own family vacation to the Kodak executives (I've broken the lines as it was delivered; with each break pausing for the changing of the slide:
"This device isn't a space ship,
its a time machine.
It goes backwards and forwards;
it takes us to a place where we ache to go again.
Its not called the wheel;
its called the Carosuel,
it lets us travel the way a child travels.
Round and around and back home again.
to a place where we know we are loved."
Its impossible to replicate Hamm's dynamite delivery, or to explain how the words are drowning in personal meaning, as their are several plot lines that hinge on these very words.
All I can say is the show is incredible and I can't wait to see more.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Saying no to free money/victory all for the message
It has been far too long since my last blog, The change in my employment has had a large part to do with that. Funny that I have had more free time now for quite a while, yet I have written less.
I recently watched the movie Deal, against the advice of every review I could get my hands on, and of course against my better judgement. The convergence of my two biggest interests (film and poker) must truly inhibit my common sense.
The poker boom is traced by many to the John Dahl independent film Rounders. The post Will Hunting vehicle for Matt Damon. Damon (and certainly his costar Ed Norton) and Chris Moneymaker have brought so many potential poker players to the world of gambling for a living. The movie arguably the best "poker movie" made to date. I tend to champion Steve McQueen's The Cincinnati Kid, over Rounders, almost strictly because Rounders is so evidently the more trendy choice.
Both films have major flaws that help anyone who wants to argue against the film's poker "supremacy."
The featured game in Kid is five-card stud, which is now an antiquated game, rarely played. In the final hand (spoiler alert) The Man draws an incredibly improbable Queen high straight flush (the odds of this in five card game are beyond astronomical, just being dealt a straight flush only happens 1 out of 72,193 times) to best The Kid's tens full of Aces(the odds of this match up of hands occurring are even more laughable: 332,220,508,619 to 1) This hand stinks of Hollywood, and the sheer lunacy of the probability of this match up occurring threatens to undo all of the great poker displayed in the film up to this point (The terrific hero call made in the opening hand by the Kid, and ridiculous bluff run by the Man on Pig are the highlights). After thinking about it though. I think its the only spot in which the Kid could be broken, and the point of the film can not be driven home unless he loses.
In Rounders, my major gripe occurs with the betting in the first big hand, in which Mike McDermott is felted by Malkovich's Teddy KGB. While the hand is based on a colossal misread by McDermott, he made two crucial mistakes in the hand. The first was playing with his entire bankroll. This mistake occurs more often than it should in real life, but one would think that a player with the skills of McD would no better (he even says it; "always leave yourself outs"). The second mistake is his $33,000 raise on the river. Mike holds the second nuts (nuts is pokerspeak for the second-best hand possible) with a nines full of aces full house. He assumes that KGB holds a spade flush, based on his analysis on KGB's play in the hand so far. The ridiculous occurs with Mike, assuming that KGB has a weak hand, raises his huge $15,000 bet into a $5,000 pot, a staggering $33,000 more. KGB can only justify a call with hand better than the one that McDermott holds. A player like McDermott would likely call in that spot, not raise.
But these are quibbling problems. Overall both movies offer excellent depictions of poker, and its encompassing lifestyle. The two most recent movies based in poker that I have watched; Deal and Curtis Hanson's stinker Lucky You, have one common plot point which irritate me to no end. Both movies end with the final table of a prestigious poker tournament, and the father/son and teacher/student combinations from each respective plot facing off against each other.
In both films the protagonist purposely folds a vastly superior hand to their opponent. Nice killer instinct guys. In what poker world would anyone fold a winning hand on purpose. It makes sense that the director wants to make a point. But in no way are there any poker players who would do this. Just pisses me off that poker is being sold to the masses this way.
Poker players are trying to win the money. They don't care about making statements. They win or they lose. They're all degenerates (though some more than others). Don't try and dress them up. Just accept it and move on.
I recently watched the movie Deal, against the advice of every review I could get my hands on, and of course against my better judgement. The convergence of my two biggest interests (film and poker) must truly inhibit my common sense.
The poker boom is traced by many to the John Dahl independent film Rounders. The post Will Hunting vehicle for Matt Damon. Damon (and certainly his costar Ed Norton) and Chris Moneymaker have brought so many potential poker players to the world of gambling for a living. The movie arguably the best "poker movie" made to date. I tend to champion Steve McQueen's The Cincinnati Kid, over Rounders, almost strictly because Rounders is so evidently the more trendy choice.
Both films have major flaws that help anyone who wants to argue against the film's poker "supremacy."
The featured game in Kid is five-card stud, which is now an antiquated game, rarely played. In the final hand (spoiler alert) The Man draws an incredibly improbable Queen high straight flush (the odds of this in five card game are beyond astronomical, just being dealt a straight flush only happens 1 out of 72,193 times) to best The Kid's tens full of Aces(the odds of this match up of hands occurring are even more laughable: 332,220,508,619 to 1) This hand stinks of Hollywood, and the sheer lunacy of the probability of this match up occurring threatens to undo all of the great poker displayed in the film up to this point (The terrific hero call made in the opening hand by the Kid, and ridiculous bluff run by the Man on Pig are the highlights). After thinking about it though. I think its the only spot in which the Kid could be broken, and the point of the film can not be driven home unless he loses.
In Rounders, my major gripe occurs with the betting in the first big hand, in which Mike McDermott is felted by Malkovich's Teddy KGB. While the hand is based on a colossal misread by McDermott, he made two crucial mistakes in the hand. The first was playing with his entire bankroll. This mistake occurs more often than it should in real life, but one would think that a player with the skills of McD would no better (he even says it; "always leave yourself outs"). The second mistake is his $33,000 raise on the river. Mike holds the second nuts (nuts is pokerspeak for the second-best hand possible) with a nines full of aces full house. He assumes that KGB holds a spade flush, based on his analysis on KGB's play in the hand so far. The ridiculous occurs with Mike, assuming that KGB has a weak hand, raises his huge $15,000 bet into a $5,000 pot, a staggering $33,000 more. KGB can only justify a call with hand better than the one that McDermott holds. A player like McDermott would likely call in that spot, not raise.
But these are quibbling problems. Overall both movies offer excellent depictions of poker, and its encompassing lifestyle. The two most recent movies based in poker that I have watched; Deal and Curtis Hanson's stinker Lucky You, have one common plot point which irritate me to no end. Both movies end with the final table of a prestigious poker tournament, and the father/son and teacher/student combinations from each respective plot facing off against each other.
In both films the protagonist purposely folds a vastly superior hand to their opponent. Nice killer instinct guys. In what poker world would anyone fold a winning hand on purpose. It makes sense that the director wants to make a point. But in no way are there any poker players who would do this. Just pisses me off that poker is being sold to the masses this way.
Poker players are trying to win the money. They don't care about making statements. They win or they lose. They're all degenerates (though some more than others). Don't try and dress them up. Just accept it and move on.
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