Pretty Little Things: Brief Movie Thoughts, 4/10

I've been bad. Again, I let my duties slip away from me. So, as a means of getting myself back into my passion for writing (Awww!), I'm going to start updating this little personal forum with frequent installments of what I call "Pretty Little Things", i.e. my very (very) brief impressions of movies which landed on my radar in the recent days/weeks. Perhaps if I stay diligent in updating this space with these blurbs, I'll feel compelled to deliver, you know, actual criticism. However, I think these scraps of thoughts and opinions are valuable as immediate, innate reactions to viewing experience. (Sorry, but I'm no Pauline Kael with an incredible ability to synthesize the visceral moviegoing experience into words in just one sitting. Nor, it must be said, do I like to take notes during films.) So while I'm well aware these contribute to our current trend of "soundbite" criticism (a practice best left to the Jeffrey Lyons of the world), they are, as I pointed out, "gateway" posts; with time, they will expand before my very eyes and I won't even know it.

In the mean time, sit tight. And read, damn it.

Fury (1936)
Constructed as a romantic fable thrust violently into nightmarish, prickly moral parable, Fury burrows into your spine with raw intensity. Here, Fritz Lang extracts any indentifiable sense of place and also personality from the film, letting the archetypes and (disgustingly, sadly) archetypal situations speak for themselves. Ablaze with aesthetic rigor, chilling in its insights.

The Woman in the Widow (1944)
You think De Palma screened this film before writing Femme Fatale or, honestly, a fair deal of his filmography? One can hypothesize, for sure, but that noir-tinged head-buster definitely owes quite a bit to Fritz Lang's account of a middle aged man's waking life foray into homicide. Edward G. Robinson reigns in his signature hard-boiled persona to reveal a pathetic, ordinary soul. It's a oddly moving performance.

Swing Time (1936)
Second viewing, just as beguiling. I've always loved how emotionally arresting the Astaire and Rogers dance numbers were, and Swing Time is the duo's peak (from what I've seen): gorgeous songs expressed with eloquent, serious dancing by two incandescent performers. "Never Gonna Dance" is powerful, but "Pick Yourself Up" is in a league of its own.

Ace in the Hole (1951)
Sometime people confuse satire for dark comedy. This is satire in the ruthless, tar-black vein with minimal room for laughter. (When humor does bubble up, its sharp as fuck.) Prophetic in all the right (wrong?) ways, with a scary, all-cylinders Kirk Douglas performance. Now this is a "message" film.

Bunny Lake Is Missing (1965)
First image: Keir Dullea walks a shallow diagonal foward toward a dual swingset. A single, unoccupied swing sways. Dullea notes and walks past. This shot encapsulates the mysteries and realities of this Preminger masterpiece, as straightfoward as it is ominous. Bunny Lake consistently toys with our expectations and, more importantly, our emotion reactions and identifications even as it keeps its enigmas afloat until the gut-busting finale. Shot in stark, formidable Panavision. A must-see.

Loves of a Blonde (1965)
Second viewing, just as awesome. A refreshing mix of Eastern bloc realism and New Wave-esque visual flair, Milos Forman breakthrough film remains a bittersweet confection; the movie's laissez-faire narrative and spirited humor barely masks the shades of sadness cast upon the titular Hana Brejchova's face. (And what a ravishing face!) Few movies make as many clever yet appropriate editing choices as this one, most which dance the film's delicate line between mirth and melancholy.

The Fisher King (1991)
Call this a disappointment kissed with moments of genius and genuine feeling. I don't mind the idea of Gilliam working out his absurdist comfort zone in stretches of the movie (namely the long middle act with contrasting couples each performing a pas de deux). In its execution, however, these scenes lack the verve and spark which make even Gilliam's most uneven work tingle with excitement (see The Brothers Grimm). Still, there are myriad pleasures to be found in the acting -- especially from Bridges, definitely from Ruehl -- and some of the sequences pop.

Burglar (1987)
Genius. Okay, no. It's actually pretty lame. But this processed piece of 80s comedy cheese coasts on a rather inoffensive, sometimes goofy-fun wave due to Whoopi Goldberg's star wattage. So, no, this isn't even trashy-good but there are worse ways to spend 90 minutes. Also notable for the single best use of Bob Goldthwait in film history: squawking a string of profanities and insults at a bald bartender. While disguised as a postal worker. Okay, that's genius.

Can't Buy Me Love (1987)
Say what you will, but Steve Rash's high school-bound romantic comedy, however run-of-the-mill in conception and preposterous in its set-up, is one of the stand-out teen movies of the 80s, if only for the winning performances of its two leads and its understanding of our desparate need to fit in. Yep, there's a climatic scene between a jock and geek ending with the entire student body cheering. Yep, girl and boy fall in love, drift apart, and find each other again. But hell if Ronald Miller (Patrick Dempsey, a kid pouring his heart into the puppy-love material like its the greatest love story ever told) and Cindy Mancini (Amanda Peterson, her charisma set to swoon) aren't the two most endearing characters in the whole freakin' genre.

Married Life (2008)
Ira Sach apes Douglas Sirk and Nicholas Ray without a particle of either giant's overriding humanism. Instead, the movie's nothing more than, as one critic put it, "an ugly film about ugly people without even providing an entry point to engage with its ugliness". Even surrounded by typically fine thesps like Chris Cooper, Patricia Clarkson and Rachel McAdams, Married Life is as pretty and useful as a paper mache house.

The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne (1987)
The movie: fine, with some missteps in characterizations and structure. Maggie Smith: the absolute proof she's one of, if not the greatest living actress in the world. There aren't many characters as heartbreaking and ultimately gratifying to watch as Judith Hearne, and there is no other actress who could have infused her with as much sorrow and determination as Smith. Truly, a revelation.

The 100 Greatest Singles of 2007: #100 - 91

I'm going roll this thing out a little bit earlier than expected. Starting, uhh, NOW!

The plan is to roll out about 10 songs a day for the next five days or so. After that, my write-ups/reviews will get a bit more substantial. I anticipate this will take me about a month to roll out with the time I need to devote to writing. So, patience! Today I offer up a special Honorable Mention and the first two songs on my list.

Also of note: I've tried to include YouTube videos whenever possible. Most are the real deals, but I've also decide to include some fan-made videos (particularly for mixtape standouts or hard-to-find gems), be they live tracks or simply audio only videos. I'll do my best to indicate the "real" from the amateur. I debated about providing mp3 links for those songs without videos, but I didn't want to tangled in that mess. Hype Machine and MySpace are good, legit sites for casual listening anyway.

Lastly, though I would like to consider my list finalized, I realize with today's saturated music market that it's virtually impossible for me to hear not just everything, but even everything I might want to listen to. So, this list is by no means definitive. It is simply my own personal guide through the songs which kicked my ass this year, and one I thought would be fun to share. So I hope you enjoy reading it -- and watching and listening too, when you can.

To begin, this year, an Honorable Mention award must go to:

The Field's From Here We Go Sublime

If one were to listen to all the critical brouhaha over From Here We Go Sublime, you'd think the Field, a.k.a. producer Axel Willner, stuffed his full-length debut album with impenetrable, joyless and cerebral IDM-style techo epics, the kind music most of us peons just don't "understand". What first-time listeners, be they fans of electronic music or not, would actually discover is a stunning sequence of warm and immensely satisfying micro-house gems, each sensual track aimed right at your heart, soul and feet. Though Willner's fondness for -- and, it's worth noting, his mastery of -- repetition may irk dance music neophytes, the surprising variety of textures and sounds remains one of the album's central pleasure: From the gorgeous glide of "Over the Ice" to the smile-inducing (and Lionel Richie-sampling) "A Paw in My Face"; from "The Little Heat Beats So Fast"'s bump-'n'-grind ecstacy through "Everyday"'s propulsive plunge toward euphoria; and from the almost-anthemic stomp of centerpiece "Silent" down to the... well, sublime closing title track, Willner's range of accomplishments over the span of the disc's hour is nothing short of miraculous. So this year, an honorable mention must go to the Field, for although none of the tracks from his incredible album grace this list, it's not a matter of quality. Just call it a kind of Sophie's choice for yours truly.

And now onto the real deal. Here's today's crop of songs:

100. Chromatics – "Running Up That Hill"

I have trouble resisting a great Kate Bush cover ("OH! Oh-oh! OH! Oh-oh..."). This elegant neo-disco rendition swaps the urgency and gallop of the original for twilight, Italo atmospherics, replete with itchy funk guitars and billowing synth waves brought down to a simmer. Similarly, Ruth Randalet's plain cooing etches out a tale of dancefloor heartbreak.

99. Liars – "Plaster Casts of Everything"

Year in and year out, the Liars thwart expectations with their constant experimentation and devil-may-care attitude. This year, they just wanted to kick some faces in. "Plaster Casts" is relentless taking-names, head-thrashing, knob-at-11 rock 'n' roll and even if its probably their most "conventional" record to date, they don't give a shit. (Video - Official)

98. Ted Leo & the Pharmacists – "Sons of Cain"

From the unpredictable to the dependable: Ted Leo has been the go-to man for hyper-active, gut-busting indie rock for well over a decade now, and Living with the Living opener "Sons of Cain" is no exception to his well-honed formula. Wired and exuberant, it slashes right at the jugular and, yes, it hurts so good. (Video - Live)

97. Tracey Thorn – "It's All True"

Ah, I can practically smell the latex and voguing. Still, Thorn's woozy voice and intimate lyrics pushes this slick, throbbing slice of neo-90's club pop past kitschy throwback. Without a whiff of irony, this one belong to the class of this year's sadly overlooked pop singles. (Video - Official)

96. Cam'ron – "Just Us"

Funny how Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" had a bigger year than, err, a lot of the songs on my list (or any list, for that matter). To ice the cake on the jukebox classic's banner year, Killa Cam lifts the tune's iconic piano-riff for his playful, lyrically baroque and emotionally acute tale of hard knocks and sex jokes. (Video - Audio Only)

95. Patty Griffin – "No Bad News"

From front porch country to Sufjan folk pop, "No Bad News" exists a reminder of Griffin's full and vital songwriting prowess, a spirited, near-relentless barn-burner at turns defiant and tenderhearted. A political plea through and through, "No Bad News" busts out the foot-tapping soul and sunshine just long enough for the clouds to stay away. (Video - Live)

94. Björk – "Earth Intruders"

A match made in pop heaven which doesn't quite scale any stairways to it, this Björk and Timbaland collaboration still contains plenty of ear-popping moments: the funky rain dance opening beat, the Playskool keyboard-riff, the mistress of weird getting all "Army of Me" happy/crazy, the man from the 'Big VA' pulling out everything but the rabbit. Sold. (Video - Official)

93. T.I. – "Big Shit Poppin' (Do It)"

After enjoying tremendous success with last year's King and the instant classic "What You Know", plenty tossed of or simply ignored T.I.'s (admittedly underwhelming) T.I. vs. T.I.P. and, more cruelly, this throne-securing, rock-tinged banger. "I composed several classics / You know, like 'Top Back', 'Dope Boy', 'Bring 'Em Out' and 'What You Know' about that." Another jewel on the crown. (Video - Official)

92. Róisín Murphy – "Overpowered"

The bass line swiggles and scurries around the assembly-line beat, the horror house synths punctuate the haunted melody, and soon enough we're caught in Murphy's web of delirious Europop. However dark the setting, it's Murphy's burgeoning, overflowing libido and savvy pop instincts which make this both a needed fix and a timeless remedy. (Video - Official)

91. The Game [ft. Kanye West] – "Wouldn't Get Far"

Kanye West churns out these kind of laidback, sample-dressed street soul productions in his sleep, but his pairings with the rap's rogue rascal, The Game, work especially well as they seem to tap into the rapper's boyish charm and the producer/superstar's penchant for head-bobbing hooks. Video hoes will never be looked at quite the same again. (Video - Official)

Last Night, I Had a Dream About You (In Brooklyn)

First thing's first: Sorry for my long absence from this blog. Just got a new, very temporary seasonal job -- please, don't ask me what it is because I may just burst into tears, college diploma in hand -- with absolutely shitty hours and by the time my eight-hour day ends at 2 p.m. (you do the math), I'm usually wiped. I'm reminded of that City High song, "What Would You Do?", except replace all that stuff about being hooker, baby mamas and smoking crack with...watering flowers.

My point is, I promise you, ye ole' faithful readers of this (rather amateurish) blog, that I will do my best to provide my particularly awesome brand of movie and music commentary every week and hopefully more. Pinky swear!

Now to the real business at hand...

Last week I drove down to New York City with a very special birthday present in hand: a ticket to see Daft Punk live in Brooklyn. (Thanks Mom and Dad!) And on last Thursday night, a pyramid-shaped spaceship with two cyborg commanders landed at Keyspan Park in Coney Island and preceded to blow everyone's minds. This, of course, was expected: since their now-legendary performance at Coachella last year, Daft Punk have been the hottest ticket around at nearly every subsequent venue they've played. What I wasn't prepare for was the sheer seismic energy Daft Punk generated with what could really be boiled down to as some lights, some live mixing, some robot helmets and some couple thousand people.

I'm not about to attempt to convert those who doubt Daft Punk's status as one of the best acts in pop music today, because if you haven't already recognized their visionary distillations of techno, house, disco, R&B, Europop and everything in-between, their brilliant inversions of pop structures and formulas, or their innovative and refreshing uses of repetition and looping, you probably never will. For those believers and fans, however, seeing Daft Punk live not only proves all their incredible skill and talent, but enriches their already classic material in new and exciting ways. Not content to simply spin an unfiltered collection of their greatest hits (although that too would probably be pretty dope), the duo of Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter instead build their towering pop metropolis synth by sinewy synth, beat by movie-sized beat, and hook by trance-inducing hook. The experience was not unlike entering a brave, new outer-space world (the show opens with a nod to Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind) and plunging head-long into a black hole, lights and songs bending in extraordinary, sometimes phantasmagoric ways.

From the opening, head-banging blasts of "Robot Rock" to the unreal encore which cleverly reprised "One More Time" with an unexpected dose of Stardust's 1998 classic dance cut, "Music Sounds Better With You" (which DP's Bangalter wrote and produced with Alan Braxe), the group tore shit up, for lack of a better phrase. One of the best things to likely come out of this Daft Punk tour is the critical reappraisal of the group's last LP, Human After All. I was among the many disappointed with that record, but hearing the likes of "Prime Time of Your Life", "Television Rules the Nation", the title track and, hell, even "Technologic" played over those mega speakers, it's not hard to think that DP imagined Human After All not for earphone or MP3 consumption, but as monolithic pop music to pulverize stadium audiences. Even with the night's sweaty, raved-up and rave-ready crowd, Daft Punk managed to not only rope in the masses crowd with every ecstatic transition (the introduction of "Around the World", as mixed with "Television", gave me goosebumps of the best kind), but generated a startling amount of intimacy between themselves and the throngs of devotees, as well as make the evening just as much about the act of concert-going as the actual concert itself. Personally, what made seeing Daft Punk so deeply affecting and special for me had just as much to do with dancing like an idiot with my friends as anything else that night. Rare is the occasion when an artist achieves this raptorous relationship with the music and the experience. Daft Punk did that and so much more.

All this having been said, I haven't even discussed the curious and rather sad omission of "Digital Love" -- my favorite Daft Punk song and one of the very best pop songs of forever and ever. For such a beloved song, it was quite a surprise not to hear even a fragment or section of the song mixed into the set.

I'm not complaining, though. It still feels like I'm awaking for a long, glorious dream awash in neon lights. Plus, I'm still sore from dancing.

To See What You See: A Personal Eulogy to Edward Yang, 1947-2007

I discovered on Saturday evening that Taiwanese director Edward Yang had passed away on Friday, June 29th, at the age of 59. He died of colon cancer, which he had been privately battling for seven years.

Besides being a serious blow to world cinema – as Yang was clearly one of cinema’s great humanist and surveyors of modern life – the news has struck me in a deeper, more personal way, for his film Yi Yi is one of the defining touchstones of my movie-going life, a film which altered my perception of every other bit of filmmaking I’ve come across since. The film even provides the inspiration for the title of this blog, A One and a Two, the alternative English title to his millennial masterpiece. It may seem silly to dub Yang the greatest filmmaker of the last 20 odd years having only seen Yi Yi, but few artists have matched Yang’s staggering achievement. now his swan song film. I feel, with Yang’s passing, I owe him some (brief) thoughts on Yi Yi:

The film begins with a wedding and ends with a funeral, and in between teems and overflows with life, in the purest sense of the word. Yi Yi is a truly epic film, but only in the sense that it lets its characters breathe and provides for them the space and time to let their choices and actions reverberate off of one another. There is almost no point in discussing specific plot details in Yi Yi to new viewers because one of the many joys of watching Edward Yang’s masterpiece is the way in which he tangles up the characters’ lives and then, with the grace of a true master, unravels them. The film at once evokes the mysterious, elliptical rhythms of life and the spontaneity of existence – be it in the way a specter of the past appears in the flesh at the most unlikely of times or how a touching spiritual encounter brings life to what was otherwise believed dead. Aesthetically, Yang favors long takes and wide shots, pushing his characters not only to confront and interact with their environments, but each other. Yang uses this formal space not to separate the viewer, but to draw them closer, to form an emotional connection via this shared plane. Subsequently, Yang’s compositions are never pretty or painterly, but are constantly fascinating.

Even with all this considered, Yi Yi is far from being stiff, cold or, worse, pretentious. It’s brimming with humor and drama, joy and sadness. Even the English title, A One and a Two, beautifully anticipates the sublime symphony of life the film exudes. More than any other film I’ve ever seen, Yi Yi looks and feels like life unfolding. That’s the highest compliment I can think of.

Thank you, Mr. Yang, for blessing us with your talent, humor and wisdom.

We Love the 90's

Over yonder at The Backstage (where I help moderate the forums), we conducted a little poll of our favorite films of the 90's. Suffice it to say there are some excellent, inspired choices in the bunch - Raise the Red Lantern, Hoop Dreams, Waiting for Guffman and Election, namely - and some head-scratchers as well. I mean, radiant animation aside, does The Lion King really deserve a place, especially over the likes of Secrets & Lies and, well, any other film on the list? I know it's silly to quibble over rankings and placements, so I'll stop right there. The only other thing I'll point out is the lack of foreign productions on our list, with only Lantern and Almodovar's All About My Mother landing spots (if you count the English-language/foreign-produced Breaking the Waves, that's a third). Is this indicative of the American independent renaissance in this decade or is it simply a matter of availability and visibility? It's hard to say, really.

In any case, check out the list HERE. The write-ups are fantastic, as are the graphics. When you're done there, check out our FORUMS, where all these stunning people can be found.

Now, next time, can everyone go out and see Close-Up, Underground, some Kieslowski, and some East Asian cinema? It does a body good, I tell ya!

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head

Five Thought on the Pop Masterpiece Known as Rihanna’s "Umbrella"

1. Jay-Z’s introductory verse is perfect. Not so much because it’s quality (it’s pretty terrible, actually), but because it sets our man Hov up as the apple of our heroine’s eyes. More tabloid fodder or unrequited love letter? Check mate, Beyoncé.

2. Pitchfork’s Tom Breihan faults "Umbrella" for the "disconnect between Rihanna’s cold, clinical delivery and the comforting warmth of the lyrics." I can understand the comfort offered by the song’s titular promise, but I don’t exactly see the "warmth" in the image of two sopping wet lovers, blanketed by a downpour ("Now that it’s raining more than ever..."), huddling under a fucking umbrella. Not a canopy, not an awning, not even a shack. A measly umbrella. The shit is actually a little depressing, in an odd, ambiguous sort of way.

3. Going further on the "warmth" tip, there already exists a disconnect between the songs lyrics and the production surround Rihanna's voice. The chilling effect of those screeching, slightly off-pitch synths, whirling around the proceedings like an amassing thunderstorm, establish the potentially doomed yet enthralling atmosphere. One of the many joys of Rihanna’s career has been her growing ability to take risks (this is the girl who lifted almost the entirety of "Tainted Love", for chrissakes) and "Umbrella"’s expert blurring of genres – from electro-pop-infused R&B to R&B-infused electro-pop – is by far greatest artistic leap, in every sense of the word.

4. The VIDEO. You've seen it by now, I'm sure. If not, there’s Rihanna, umbrellas (naturally), sparks-as-raindrops, Rihanna in French maid costume and, umm, Rihanna in silver body paint sitting in triangular box. Yeah. It’s a hot, glorious mess, almost as hallucinatory as the song itself.

5. It’s raining/ Oh, baby, it’s raining/ Baby, come into me/ Come into me...

You had me at "ella", Rihanna.

The Inaugural Post!

A great work has begun...

Or something like that.

Welcome everyone, to my first outing into the blogosphere. While I should probably introduce myself a bit before I start posting some of my thoughts on film and music, new and old, this first post is actually a warning: I have no idea what I'm doing. In the upcoming weeks and months I will be familiarizing myself with all these crazy blog features, so to any and all those reading, please be patient.

So, umm... thanks, and stay tuned!