Got a copy of David Walsh’s book The Sky Between the Leaves yesterday. Walsh is the arts editor for the World Socialist Web Site. I haven’t done more than flick through the table of contents, but even from that you can see it’s an important book.
A typical leftist film review (yes, Socialist Worker I’m talking about you here) seizes upon point to proclaim it anti-capitalist (e.g., the bad guy runs a corporation), and then ends with a complaint that the film didn’t end in revolution. Walsh’s reviews are, in contrast, thoughtful analysis and commentary from someone who clearly loves film.
Walsh’s book contains essays, reviews and interviews on cinema, news and old. Well worth tracking down, You don’t have to agree with him to appreciate the value of his work.
Saw the new Captain America movie the other night. Now just a few random thoughts. oh, yeah, SPOILER ALERT
1. It was so much better than I had hoped, I almost forgot there was a Captain America 1. The fight scenes were fantastic with only a couple of moments where the CGI/effects were weak. Such a strong cast, and so many fun Marvel characters brought in. (Thought Batroc would have a bigger part, but glad he wasn’t played as a clown) Yes, it’s true the montage /post-climax got a little muddy, but overall pretty good.
2. It may be the funniest Marvel movie made. (or at least as funny as the Avengers). Sample dialogue:
Nick Fury: Get me [SHIELD agent Maria] Hill now!
Fury car: Communications array is offline.
Nick Fury: Then what’s not broken?
Fury car: Air conditioning is fully operational.
3. Captain America was never my favourite Marvel character. He was just too square-jawed and well, patriotic, to relate to. Only when he did some soul-searching and questioned authority or rather its quasi-fascistic side, did he appear interesting. As a result, Cap’s character in the movie is a lot more interesting too.
4. The Winter Soldier is still cooler. C’mon. A Soviet trained assassin with a bionic arm, they wake-up to kill people every few years? What’s not to love?
5. But, getting back to point number three; much is made of how HYDRA subverts S.H.I.E.L.D.’s purpose, but HYDRA essentially picks up the ball and runs with it. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s plan is to stop the terrorists before they commit their terrorist-y acts; HYDRA says “let’s kill 20, 000,000 people to see it through” . It’s the vigilante question again. Who watches the watchmen?
6. I loved the way it was filled with little nerd asides – the Winter Soldier catches Cap’s shield in a way that foreshadows Bucky briefly replacing Steve Rogers as Captain America.
7. In the obligatory mid-credit scene showing Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch, Elizabeth Olson looks positively deranged. Very creepy cool!
8. Glad to see the Black Widow’s has widow’s stings now in addition to the power of super-butt.
9. I may have to see it again to catch see Joss Whedon’s cameo and to figure out which scientist Ed Brubaker played.
10. Saw trailers for the X-Men: Days of Future Past, the Guardians of the Galaxy, and the Amazing Spider-Man 2, and the movie itself mentioned Stephen Strange (ohh, ooh), and there was no mention of Ant-Man. Bright days ahead!
My meeting with the work of Dean Wareham came not through a record, but a book. I was travelling to Florida and needed something for the plane. I walked on with Black Postcards, Wareham’s autobiography. Sure, sure I knew Galaxie 500 and Luna, but I’d never really paid them than much attention. Time to change. The book was such a good read, I knew that I had to know all about these bands. And very soon, I did. and then waited years to see him live.
Opening band Elsa played a (dream) poppy set, which warned things nicely for the main event
Wareham, and his band, including his wife and former Luna member Britta Phillips ambled onto the stage at 10:30. An old joke has it that people would often yell at Galaxie 500 shows, “Play slower! Play slower!” Whether that story has any basis in reality or is merely apocryphal, the effect of listening to Wareham live (or at home for that matter) is of a slow burning fire, gathering in intensity, burning in energy.
Between songs Wareham chatted to the audience about the weather, the Mayor of Toronto, and the experience crossing into Canada. If it seems dreary, it wasn’t. It felt as if we were speaking with an old friend who played some of his favourite songs for us. A spellbinding intimacy.
The set drew from throughout his career including many old Galaxie 500 favourites through to the new album. Sure, sure, I would have liked to hear “Fourth of July” or the covers of “Final Day” or “Submission,” but the closing song of the night was a sublime cover New Order’s “Ceremony,” so any complaints would merely seem churlish.
As I drove home, I wonder why three decades in a rich career he was playing a small venue like the Horseshoe instead of Massey Hall. For the audience, we were the lucky ones.
Set (Courtesy of Set list FM)
1. Emancipated Heart
2. Blue Thunder
4. When will you come Home
5. The Dancer Disappears
6. Holding Pattern
7. Tiger Lily
8. Love is Not a Roof Against the Rain
9. Babes in the Wood
11. Indian Summer
Happy and Free
I watched The Night of the Hunter again a few days back for the first time in over two decades. It made a powerful impression on me then; an impression that has not been dimminished by time. (I’ll bet it impressed Nick Cave too, because his old testiment southern gothic bit is very familar)
The Night of the Hunter is interesting in many ways beyond the story. It was Charles Laughton’s only turn as director. It was Lillian Gish’s last starring role, and it was arguably Robert Mitchum’s greatest role. (In Cape Fear, Mitchum essentially updates Hunter’s Harry Powell as Max Cady) Yet despite its status as a classic, back in 1955, the film was a failure, both commerically and critically.
The Night of the Hunter stars Robert Mitchum as a vicious woman-hater named Harry Powell (based on real-life serial killer Harry Powers) who learns of $10,000 from a robbery committed by condemned cell mate Ben Harper (a young Peter Graves), and makes it his mission to claim it. Powell also plays a fundementalist preacher (and uses it to justify his beliefs) working the tattoos of love and hate across the knuckles of his hand (sound familiar Clash fans?) into a Bible story. Mitchum’s portrayal as the alternately charming, then murderous preacher is mesmorizing.
Haunting beautiful and terrifying images litter the film, almost casual in their inclusion: Shelley Winters murdered, sitting in a car at the bottom of the river, her hair drifting in the current; Powell’s lurching pursuit of the children in a basement brings to mind old monster movies; the peace of the river sharply contrasted with the horror of Powell and just out of reach home and safety; even the lynch mob which coems for Powell recalls the scene at the end of Frankenstein. The black and white of the film casting odd shadows from strange angles.
There’s a dualism that runs through the film, of left hand hate and right hand love. Of religion as sweetness and salvation (Rachel as New Testiment) and as violence and vengance (Powell as the Old). And there’s the children. They abide, as Rachel notes, but we all know the most successful childhood stories are the ones that recall the real fear of being a child and not being beleived by the gownups (go and re-read some of Neil Gaiman’s work).
The Night of the Hunter reminds us why we love movies.
Oh, who’s even counting anymore?
But, here’s the skinny. During a council meeting on Wednesday, Mayor Ford was the sole person to vote against naming a street after Nelson Mandela. Governments like stuff like this. It looks nice, but it doesn’t really cost anything. (In New York, there’s a bench in a park named after Dr. Feelgood singer Lee Brilleaux, but that might be the result of a donation) In addition, Mandela is still wildly popular. Safer too now that he’s dead, so it seemed like a no-brainer.
Well, Ford, who has made a career of being the contrarian, voted no. And curiously also against sending a greeting to Canada’s Olympic athletes. Several theories have been put forward: Ford wasn’t paying attention; Ford simply votes to piss people off; Ford really believed he was right, but later buckled.
Thirty minutes after the vote became public, Ford claimed he had made a mistake and wanted to change his vote. In the press scrum, he claimed it was immediately, but when corrected stormed off in a huff.
Leave it to brother Doug Ford to make the case: He argued, “No one in this city supports the black community more than Rob Ford. No one. Bottom line. Zing. Done. And no one supports the Olympic athletes more than Rob Ford.” Well, I know he’s a supporter of some young black entrepreneurs (I believe there’s a video to mark the occasion), but that might be a matter for the courtsm, so I’ll say no further.
In the end, Toronto City Council after initially denying the opportunity, gave Ford the chance to change his vote. Rob, Rob, have the courage of your convictions. Just like Rob Anders who famously voted not to give Mandela honourary Canadian citizenship because he was a “communist” and a “terrorist.” Years later Anders was unrepentant. And still regarded as a dick, but you can’t have everything.
The sad thing is that Ford’s antics will actually convince people that it will make a difference if they choose a different Mayor. True, the next one won’t be such a comic buffoon-de-force, but the business of the city will largely remain the same.
I added a couple of new links to the blogroll:
Here we are then.
1. Wilko Johnson / Roger Daltrey – Going Back Home
Wilko’s last album, blah, blah, blah. That’s not important. What is important is that this is a collaboration between an amazing singer and an equally amazing guitarist. It takes a little getting used to hearing Daltrey’s vocals on some of the tracks, , and for my money the production is a little too clean, but there’s a warmth and a love of rock and roll that this record exudes that’s unbeatable. A joy to hear.
2. The Strypes – Snapshot
From the other end of the spectrum then. The debut album by four Irish lads who’ve spent a lot of time listening to the early Stones, Yardbirds, Pretty Things, Dr. Feelgood, Eddie and the Hot Rods etc and have come up with something quite wonderful. Tasteful covers and inspiring originals, but it all honesty, live is how you want to hear these songs.
Saw this again this month. I think I saw this on TV in the early eighties, and no doubt missed a lot of it. (who knows what was cut out). I read somewhere mod purists find a lot of complain about in it, but it’s still a fascinating portrait of a subculture and a youth who is slowly falling apart (great soundtrack too). Oh, and the ending is different from what I remember too. Get the Criterion edition. It’s worth it.
4. Dean Wareham – Dean Wareham
Mentioned the EP last month. Here’s the full length album. Similar to a lot of Wareham’s work, the songs are slow but burn with intensity. If you’re a fan, you already know. Can’t wait until the show next week. Horseshoe Tavern April 9.
5. The Black Keys – “Fever”
I imagine more than a few people will be surprised by the sound of this. A much poppier, less bluesier sound, but fueled by a completely addictive organ riff. The album is out May 12.
6. The Small Faces – “All or Nothing “
In last month’s Mojo, there’s a Small Faces and friends CD including a remastered version of this little classic. Go get it
7. The New Mendicants – Into the Lime
Ex Teenage Fanclub + Ex Pernice Brother= fab pop. You be the judge (although here’s a clue- yes)
8. These New Puritans – Field of Reeds
If you liked the first two TNP albums (as I did), this one is a bit of a shock. Less a collection of songs than a sound spread across a recording. My daughter commented that it sounded like a soundtrack – she might be right. There’s a moodiness, an ambiance, which is impossible to digest in a single meal. Very ambitious, very challenging, and certainly worth exploring.
9. Mudhoney – “Touch Me I’m Sick”
Ooh, is it too early to complain about the licensing of this song for PS4?
10. Dick Hebdige – Subculture
Not a record, not a film, but a book. Not even about music, but about culture, specifically subculture. Subtitled the meaning of style. Isn’t all music about style? About subculture? Anyway, an old book dating to the 70s, but very insightful. Have a read.
I was temped to make a joke about poor Korean translations of Rosa Luxemburg, but the stories this week about Kim Jong Un ordering North Koreans to get government-approved “socialist haircuts” which were suspiciously like his seemed better than any lame puns I could invent (OK, maybe not the title of this post)
No sooner had the stories circulated than they were denied, and we all thought, ah, “North Korea is so wacky, it could be true, but I guess it’s not.” Except…
In 2004-2005, North Korea did wage a campaign entitled “Let us trim our hair in accordance with Socialist lifestyle” on Korean television. Apparently, the gist was that hair length affects intelligence because the body is deprived of nutrients due to hair length. Certainly funnier than allegedly having your uncle fed to a pack of starving dogs I guess.
What say you Proletarian Democracy?
Two months back, the Strypes played their first North American show at Lee’s Palace: One of the best shows I had seen in a long time. So, when I heard they were returning to Toronto, this time at the Mod Club, (I’m sorry I can’t bring myself to say the Virgin Mod Club), I knew where I would be March 22.
I knew the show was an early one, but it still seemed a bit weird arriving at the club in daylight. Last time out I complained that there was no merch table, but the $30 price on t-shirts didn’t thrill me this time. I’m still looking for the deluxe version of their debut Snapshot with the band’s cover of the Coasters’ “I’m a Hog for you baby, ” but I digress.
Sam Cash and the Romantic Dogs (sorry, I don’t get it) were up first. They played a catchy power-pop rock that was immediately attractive, but whose appeal tended to fade over the course of the set. The slower numbers in particular didn’t work for me. Still, they were tight musically and the audience responded well to them, so maybe it was me eager for the main attraction.
And what to say about the Strypes? They used to talk about the Who’s sound as Maximum R & B, but that’s not a bad description for the Strypes either. Pulling in early Stones, Dr. Feelgood and the energy of punk, they make a fearsome muscial medley. I want also to make a plug for much-maligned pub rock here as an anteceedent: Eddie and the Hot Rods, who made the mistakes of being just a little too early for punk and wore flares when it was no longer fashionalbe, but contributed a fantastic sound and a classic tune, “Do Anything you Wanna Do.”
The Strypes played for a little over an hour tearing through their debut album and a choice selection of covers (Coasters, Lew Lewis, Bo Diddley and probably a few I’ve missed), and ended with a one song encore. I’ll employ the whole rock-and-roll is-like-sex metaphor to suggest the show began with a lot of excitement and anticipation, built throughout and climaxed (oops!) with a wonder where you didn’t know if ecstacy or a heart attack was on the horizen.
And yet…I’m not sure if it was because it was the second time I’d seen them in as many months or it was that familiarity breeds contempt, but the Lee’s show as better. The band seemed to be having more fun, there was more banter from the stage and the set was longer. Dunno.
Ah, forget it.
Rather than being petty, let’s end on a positive note and say that regardless of those little digs, the Strypes are a fantasic live band. Their album Snapshot is one of those records that no matter the volume there’s a voice in your head which says it would be better louder, and that voice is right; but you still need to experience them live to get the full effect.