I Want to Believe

Although I am in the process of marathoning my way through Season 1 of "The X Files", this blog is not about that show. I just wanted to borrow its tagline, which is arguably the most iconic of them all in TV-land. This is not about alien lifeforms, or paranormal activities in rural America either. This is about my restored faith in all things metal.

I have just finished listening to Megadeth's new album, Endgame. Dave Mustaine claims it to be their best since 1990's seminal Rust in Peace (in my opinion the greatest and the best heavy metal album ever. Word.). The latest issue of Classic Rock claims it to be their best since Youthanasia - the pop metal classic from 1994. I don't agree with either statement, but it is by far the best album they've made this decade. Bands like Mastodon and Opeth have been making outstanding albums of late and the old-school thrash bands are gaining new momentum: last year's Death Magnetic by Metallica kicked some serious ass, despite the poor audio quality; Testament's "come-back album", The Formation of Damnation is as good a thrash record as you can get, Slayer is releasing a new album this year. Only Anthrax seem to be unable to rid themselves of an ongoing soap opera involving their vocalists. Megadeth, or more particularly Dave Mustaine, have been churning out decent albums every few years and the results are always a tad disappointing, knowing how good they can be.

The latest from 'Deth restores my faith in metal and in Megadeth in particular. It is an aural blast that not only manages to be relevant, both musically and lyrically, but also harks back to the olden golden days of metal. It starts off with "Dialectic Chaos", their first instrumental since "Into the Lungs of Hell", with which it shares the grrove. Mustaine and Chris Broderick, the new recruit, spar off in shred heaven for two and a half minutes. By the end of it, you are already exhausted - in a good way! The following tracks, "This Day We Fight!", "44 Minutes" and "1320'" are classic Megadeth up-tempo blasts. It prepares us for a handful of songs that would stand proud next to any of their 80s or 90s classics: "Ride the Hand" with its subtle(!) political lyrics rocks and rolls naturally, "Bodies" has some of the cleverest lyrics Mustaine ever wrote, "Endgame" with its anti-Patriot Act lyrics and insane solos is a classic-in-the-making, "Head Crusher" starts off with a bruising shred solo by Mustaine and never lets up, "How the Story Goes" and "The Right to Go Insane" wouldn't have been out of place on Youthanasia. One dud is the proto-ballad "The Hardest Part of Letting Go ... Sealed with a Kiss". Megadeth dabbled in ballad territory twice before with mixed results. For every sublime "In My darkest Hour", there is the cringe-inducing "Promises". "The Hardest Part ..." oscillates between the two, but leans more towards the latter.

Will Endgame earn new fans to Megadeth? No. Will it go number one like Death Magnetic? Sadly, no. But will it stand the test of time and be regarded as one of their best albums in a decade or so? Oh, yeah. They were never really gone away, but somehow this album marks their comeback. Welcome back, boys. And thank you for restoring my faith in metal.

Pecae.

Superciliousness and Unprofessionalism on Both Ends

In Response To Kevin's Facebook Post
(and the ensuing series of comments which Kevin
just removed from his facebook page)
regarding Josh Olson's blog rant: "I Will Not Read Your Fucking Script"
http://blogs.villagevoice.com/runninscared/archives/2009/09/i_will_not_read.php

I see both perspectives: I can actually empathize with where Olson is coming from (to a certain degree), despite his superciliousness. It’s a Catch 22 for anyone (regardless of how successful they are in the industry) because if someone asks to read your stuff and they a). don’t send you a polished piece, and b). they say they want honest feedback but in reality can’t handle blunt criticism, you either look like an asshole for saying no in the first place or an asshole when you give honest feedback that the person can’t handle. The problem isn’t just in how much time it takes to read the piece, it’s also in the time that is spent trying to formulate just the right notes because you don’t want to offend the author.

What really annoys me is when Wheeler tells someone he’s an aspiring screenwriter and inevitably Joe Schmo’s response is: “Oh yeah, I’ve always wanted to write a screenplay. That would be cool.” Talk about ignorant and disrespectful! You wouldn’t say to an architect “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to design a house. I think I could do it as well as you can.” You guys have spent your entire careers working your ASSES off to get to the point you’re at, and it’s not about merely “writing a story”; this is part of who you ARE. These idiots who think they can do it without the proper training are what give the true screenwriters a bad name. I think one of the key statements that Olson makes is “Which brings us to an ugly truth about many aspiring screenwriters: They think that screenwriting doesn't actually require the ability to write, just the ability to come up with a cool story that would make a cool movie.” THIS, my friends, is what makes you stand out amongst the rest (by the way, if this guy had been working on it for a freaking year why the hell did he only have a 2 page synopsis?!?).

HOWEVER, I do not believe this gives Olson the right to act so high-and-mighty that he can make such broad generalizations and say that he will only help friends and not any of the young, aspiring talent out there. Like Bru pointed out, he was once in that position, and not everyone is blessed to be born into “the industry” or automatically have the “friends” necessary to get your stuff read. I agree with Wheeler that as screenwriters, one of the best philanthropic things you can do is to help other young talent (and I will qualify this by saying ones who are qualified to have their stuff read—not just some guy off the street with a story, but for example, someone who has their MASTERS IN SCREENWRITING). When you get to the point where you think you’re too good or too busy to give back to society in any small way possible, it’s time to reevaluate your life.

Public Enemies

Michael Mann’s Public Enemies is meek, directionless and out of touch with its period, its characters and its audience, and yet it’s hardly the worst thing to grace theaters this summer. As massive a misfire as this Johnny Depp vehicle is, it is still at its worst the work of accomplished cinephiles slacking off.

I imagine it’s hard for a director such as Mann, working in territory so similar in theme and character to his masterpiece Heat. You either risk critique by repeating yourself, adhering to the same successful formula that elevated you before, or you can distance yourself from that formula as much as possible and hope for the best. Mann chose to do the latter here, and it hasn’t worked out as you’d hope.

Heat, if you recall, was a cat and mouse approach to crime that pitted Robert DeNiro’s smooth criminal against Al Pacino’s hard-nosed, all business crime stopper. There was a criminal team of friends, and a girl for whom DeNiro would risk it all. Public Enemies offers up the same game pieces, with Depp as smooth criminal John Dillinger, Christian Bale as hardnosed G-Man Melvin Purvis, a strong group of character actors as the team, and Academy Award winner Marion Cotillard (she of “this really is a city of angels!” acceptance speech fame) as the French beauty Dillinger would risk it all for.

What’s missing, however, in a striking and unforgiveable way, is the character insight and depth that made Heat so commandingly engaging. Back then, we spent hours with both DeNiro and Pacino, digging into their souls, discovering what made them tick, which, as it turned out, was essentially the same thing. Back then, Mann didn’t need to pick a side, a perspective – he found a loophole in the bond these two opposites shared at the center of it all.

You’ll find no such insight here, no choices, no discoveries. Instead, Mann does the opposite, distancing us from both men, never allowing or forcing us to choose a side or giving us anything to lay claim to. Public Enemies is a 140 minute history book, complete with vague interpretations and one-dimensional pictures.

And yet, remarkably, it spends little to no time on the actual history of the period in which this story takes place. Dillinger and his men ran wild during The Great Depression, a time that would seem to run extraordinarily parallel to our own, and yet apart from the rare one-off scene of poverty and despair, we get only fancy cars, fur coats and spiffy hair. To contrast this lifestyle with its immediate surroundings would have been interesting, and timely. But Mann looks to make no such point here.

Instead he focuses on the gunfights, creative camera work and closeups (of which there are many) and inspired Dillinger moments of ballsy genius (of which there are a few). For the most part it isn’t bad – the actors float through, but look good doing it. The writing is lazy, but it can also be fun. And the period work – what we see of it – looks great.

Unfortunately it all leads up to an ending that, while historically accurate, leaves us cold and unfulfilled. And that about sums up the film as a whole – it knows the facts and sticks to them well, but loses track of the story in the process, and thus ends up being very average and middle of the road. Dillinger would not be proud.

Updated Summer Blockbuster Smackdown Standings:
1. Star Trek
2. The Hangover
3. Up
4. Drag Me To Hell
5. Public Enemies
6. The Taking of Pelham 123
7. Terminator Salvation
8. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
9. Angels & Demons
10. X-Men Origins: Wolverine

Interest: Zero

Year One
There are movies that are so bad they’re laughable (like Transformers 2), and then there are movies that are so bad they’re almost painful to sit through. Harold Ramis’ Year One is the latter, which is sadly ironic considering that had it been the former, it would at least have gotten its job done.

Written by Ramis and the scribe team of Gene Stupnitsky/Lee Eisenberg (from TV’s The Office), Year One is a messy example of what happens when a bunch of really talented, really funny people come together to show each other how funny they are, forgetting that the people they’re really meant to entertain aren’t interested in self-congratulatory ego-shining and lazy comedy. Picture a bunch of clowns running around in a circus ring for 97 minutes with no direction or purpose, armed only with hand buzzers and fart jokes – that’s pretty much this movie.

Which isn’t to say there isn’t the occasional laugh to be found; how could there not be. But cheap laughs are especially cheap when they’re served up as fine dining. Year One plays like a gag reel, with one tired joke leading into the next, never building toward or really being a part of anything bigger, or better. In the process, it takes bit comics and beats their routines into the ground, leaving a trail of worn-out “ha ha-s” in its wake.

Take Michael Cera for example: here the straight man to Jack Black’s animated blowhard. His unique, mousy delivery is comic genius, but it plays best off its minimalism – never has it been better than in small doses on TV’s Arrested Development, or as a mirror of teen uncertainty in Superbad or Juno. Year One uses it to prop up a whole damn movie, whittling Cera down to nothing, and finally hanging him upside down and forcing him to pee himself (no joke).

Black, on the other hand, is already an embarrassment. Like Cera, he’s best as comic relief. Unhinged as the leading half of this history-exploring duo, he’s such a bludgeoning force of stupidity that it’s only a relief when he’s not onscreen.

And so it goes, with one comic showing up to do nothing but deliver stupid lines in their own special comic way. Oliver Platt, Paul Rudd, Hank Azaria, David Cross, Christopher Mintz-Plasse – one by one they fall victim to the pointlessness.

But what’s most worrisome here is what’s off screen – rumors of Ghostbuster III, to be written by the same team. Ironically, when watching this disaster I found myself wondering how much better this movie would have been had 80s era Bill Murray been in the Black role. Now I find myself frightened by the prospect of these guys teaming up with Bill Murray circa 2010. Even Murray can’t escape a movie with nothing to say (newsflash – Meatballs sucked).

But then again, surfacing from this crap you can only move up. Updated Summer Blockbuster Smackdown standings:

1. Star Trek
2. The Hangover
3. Up
4. Drag Me To Hell
5. The Taking of Pelham 123
6. Terminator Salvation
7. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
8. Angels & Demons
9. X-Men Origins: Wolverine
10. Year One

10 Albums That Caught the Bru's Attention from 2009

We're halfway through 2009 and it's time to ponder what I have been spinning on my iPod this year. Without further ado, here's the "10 Albums That Caught the Bru's Attention from 2009" in alphabetical order:

The Weirding / Astra
Leading the so-called Second Wave of Psychedelic Prog and hailing from the sunny San Diego, Astra are treading the Pink Floyd of the Meddle era. Atmospheric and instrumental jams are framed with soothing and melancholic vocal harmonies. I have a feeling that it will be very hard to top it this year.




200 Tons of Bad Luck / Crippled Black Phoenix
Another band that worships Pink Floyd, CBP is the brainchild of former Electric Wizard drummer Justin Greaves and Mogwai bassist Dominic Atchison. Along with a troupe of musicians from bands as wide-ranging as Iron Monkey and Gonga, the duo's new album is a wonderful and bizarre mixture of Pink Floyd and Faith No More. Weird and awesome.


Black Clouds and Silver Linings / Dream Theater
Subtlety has never been the forte of Dream Theater and this is another same old same old. However, when the same old is this good there's no reason to argue. The band again go to territories that other musicians fear to tread and come up with an uber-masculine slab of progressive metal. Though lacking a clear-cut classic, the band are still on the right track.



21st Century Breakdown / Green Day
The follow-up to the massively successful American Idiot was worth the wait. Green Day managed to milk four singles from that album and it looks like they can repeat the feat again. Barely. If American Idiot was Tommy, then this is Quadrophenia. The three-act structure, pretentious it may be, adds a little seasoning to the proceedings and Green Day still manage to be relevant.

Wavering Radiant / Isis
Oh, post-rock. You gotta love it. With each album Isis get a little more progressive and blur the distinction between the genre they have spearheaded and what they actually play - progressive music with a hardcore edge. The vocals are more upfront and the arrangements more taut. All in all a very good album that should propel them to mainstream success.

Journal for Plague Lovers / Manic Street Preachers
Manics are back! Using the lyrics Richey Edwards left in his journal and going back to Jenny Saville for the cover, this is a quintessential Manics album. Dare I say it's their best effort since The Holy Bible? I think I will say that - the angst is back with a hint of melancholy and longing. It's like 1994 all over again.


Octahedron / The Mars Volta
This is Mars Volta's "unplugged" album. Perhaps not an accurate description, but you get the idea. It's an album with more "Televators" and "The Widow" than "Inertiatic ESP" and "L'Via L'Viazquez". John Frusciante takes a more central role and his influence is obvious. This could very well be the most important release in the band's history and I'm curious as to what direction they will take for their next one.

Crack the Skye / Mastodon
Rasputin. Astral travel. Stephen Hawking. These are just some of the themes from the Atlanta four-piece's new album - perhaps the most important metal release of the year. They seem to get better with every release and I haven't got a clue how they will top this. I'm taking what I said back: this will be the album of the year.


Amor Vincit Omnia / Pure Reason Revolution
Taking a more electronic approach (perhaps anticipating Muse's new album), this is quite a shock knowing what these guys used to be like. I have to admit it took me a while to get over the beats and techno-like passages, but once you peel away all of that, there appear songs of quality that could rival their first release. "Deus Ex Machina" is my favourite song of the year so far.

Crooked Timber / Therapy?
The boys from Belfast are back with a bang. Their previous effort, One Cure Fits All, was pretty anonymous. With this new release they got their mojo back with a Joy Division-inspired brilliance. The title track and "Exiles" are haunting songs that should feature in their live set for years to come. They are a cut above the rest and they deserve to be so much bigger.


There will be a few more albums that I'm sure will creep up into this list by the end of the year. Clutch, Muse, and Aerosmith are just a few of the bands that are set to release new albums and from what I've heard from the new Clutch album, it sounds amazing. Oh, it's on.

Model Recall

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

As I stumbled out of the theater after a 150-minute cinematic bludgeoning at the hands of director Michael Bay, 30-foot robots and a leering, incoherent plot, I wondered to myself how a movie with so much money/popularity at stake could be so poorly executed. What went wrong? Why was it so long, so thoughtless, so…bad?

“Because it’s just. So. Stupid!” my fellow moviegoer exclaimed. A more accurate description there never was.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is nothing short of a big, loud, dumb disaster. You might wonder what I expected it to be. As a fan of the original, I thought I knew exactly what it would be – big, loud, dumb fun. Reckless and childlike, 2007’s Transformers was fueled by a youthful quest for simplistic imaginative fun, specifically in the form of talking, transforming robots, big action, playful banter and pretty girls. It nailed all those things, and it did so with unchecked exuberance.

Transformers 2 is what happens when that imagination remains unchecked, by reality, by growth, by boredom. What went wrong in the sequel? Maybe we should start with what didn’t.

The robot vs. robot action is better. Much better. America’s boy Shia LaBeouf is still likeable, if not any more grown up. And the girls are still pretty – Megan Fox is back, and Bay’s looking to start a similar sensation with new girl Isabel Lucas. And the visuals/sound are top of the line.

Everything else though…not so much. Whereas story logic was an acceptable causality in the first flick, the overcomplicated story here forces it front and center. The story itself is clumsy, manipulative and generally uninspired – props, settings, even characters appear and disappear whenever it’s necessary for them to. And the “twists” are just lazy reruns of better ideas. Everything from Terminator to Thundercats is ripped off here, not just in story event but in overall concept. It’s as if Bay and his writing team of Ehren Kruger and Roberto Orci (the latter so far removed from the splendor of Star Trek) simply ran out of ideas, so they threw a bunch of crap at a canvas and called it entertainment. The story in Transformers 2 is all splatter paint and papier-mâché, and it’s made for an ugly collage.

So it’s no surprise we don’t care about any of it. Why should we – Bay never needed us to care. He just wants us to ooh and ah at his fireworks, laugh at his passing characters and their passing remarks and leave wowed by the experience of it all. The problem is, we don’t. Sure, kids might enjoy this. But anybody with something resembling a matured attention span will take this in with a yawn, at best. At worst they’ll recognize it as a very cluttered, very expensive scrap heap. This isn’t a movie – it’s a compilation. And that’s not what we’re here for.

Bay seems to have a problem with sequels – Bad Boys II is somewhere on the list of Top 10 Worst Blockbusters ever. T2, meanwhile, finds itself near the bottom of our Summer Blockbuster Smackdown pigpile. Updated standings:

1. Star Trek
2. The Hangover
3. Up
4. Drag Me To Hell
5. The Taking of Pelham 123
6. Terminator Salvation
7. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
8. Angels & Demons
9. X-Men Origins: Wolverine

The Hangover

In 2003 Director Todd Phillips gave us Old School, a rip-roaringly funny insta-classic that also managed to kick-start a new era of man-child comedy. 2004 brought us Adam McKay’s Anchorman, 2005 Judd Apatow’s 40 Year Old Virgin, and every year since then someone from their new-wave comedy crew has continued the trend, laughing their way to millions of satisfied Box Office dollars. DVD shelves across America are filled with worn copies of their movies, and none will feature a more prominent place in the years to come than The Hangover, Phillips crowning achievement.
The concept behind this movie is so basic, so generic, it’s hard to believe that a.) the story isn’t already worn to the bone and, as a result, b.) there’s any more blood to be eked out of it. Phil (Wedding Crashers’ Bradley Cooper), Stu (The Office’s Ed Helms) and Alan (underground comedy sensation Zach Galifianakis) bring their buddy to Vegas for a bachelor party, proceed to get blackout drunk and wake up the next morning without him. Two days before the wedding, the groom is MIA, and the guys can’t remember a single thing that happened. What ensues as they retrace their steps in an effort to relocate him is the “what happened last night” kinda flick that you can find produced at almost every film school every year…and yet something completely and sincerely different.
Despite all its seemingly intrinsic misgivings, The Hangover feels fresh, unique and ironically memorable. This is one of those magical cinematic events where everything comes together. The script (by Ghosts of Girlfriends Past team Jon Lucas and Scott Moore) gets a lot of laughs and a lot of mileage out of “guys being guys” humor, yet never feels vulgar, and rarely even stumbles into toilet humor. They’ve managed to take something so uniquely male as a bachelor party and make it (close to) equally appealing to a female audience.
Their characters feel familiar yet not generic, largely because of the superb casting. Cooper is smugly charming, Helms sincerely dorky. But it’s Zach G. who steals the show with his oddball antics. He’s Phillips’ new Will Farrell, more eccentric, less leading-man. Together the three have an easy chemistry, a new generation of stooges you want to invite to every party.
It’s Phillips, however, that guides them and the script to comedy genius, and more than anything this is his movie. The Hangover is everything you want from a blockbuster laugher – accessible, appealing and non-stop funny. It’s a repeat viewer, and it’s threatening to top this year’s Summer Blockbuster Smackdown. Updated standings:

1. Star Trek
2. The Hangover
3. Up
4. Drag Me To Hell
5. Terminator Salvation
6. Angels & Demons
7. X-Men Origins: Wolverine

Not So Crooked

Therapy?'s new album, Crooked Timber proves that they are one of the most underrated bands of any genre. Sure, they probably would have caved in and resorted to making one indifferent album after another had they garnered enough popular acclaim. The good thing is that they remain just in the outskirts of mainstream. They may not be happy about that, but as a fan I can't be happier.

There have been minor disappointments along the way, but Therapy? are propbably the most consistent band that I have ever followed or liked. I don't think there's any Therapy? album that I dislike. Surely, they should be my favourite band. For some reason, I rate Deep Purple, Megadeth, and Iron Maiden higher, but listening to their latest makes me want to reconsider.

It is not the perfect album by any means. Heck, it's not even their best album. But, what a fresh and original album it is! It is chock full of catchy tunes that I will be humming for months to come. If you haven't had a chance to listen to it yet, please do so - you won't be disappointed. It is by far the best album of the year. I'm
not biased at all.

Growing Appreciation

There comes a time in every grown man's life when he starts appreciating some of the bands on his iTunes library a little more with every new shuffle. Needless to say, I have found myself in the same conundrum and decided to peruse through my library to create a list of bands that I have learned to appreciate more over the last few weeks.

AGALLOCH - I had heard of this band before I moved to Portland, but I always assumed that they were just another Black Metal band. After hearing one of their songs on Pandora, I decided to download a couple of their albums. And what a revelation they have been. I can't stop listening to "Not Unlike the Waves" from their Ashes Against the Grain album. Atmospheric, folksy, beautifully melancholic - this is the band Ulver should have been. It makes everything sound pale by comparison.

ALCHEMIST - This Australian band are often regarded as the Metal's Best-Kept Secret. It is a bold statement, but it isn't far from truth. They sound like a heavy version of Tool with oriental influences taking the front seat. The intro to "Evolution 1 - The Bio Approach", from fantastically-titled Organasm, gives me goosebumps with every listen.

AMORPHIS - When I first listened to Amorphis in high school, I wasn't a fan of their death-metal growls. Over the years the band adopted a new style with clean vocals and more avant-garde arrangements. In college I couldn't get enough of Am Universum. Lately, though, I keep going back to their older stuff - especially the transition album, Elegy.

ANTHRAX - Let's get the obvious out of the way - Anthrax were the smallest of the Big Four of Thrash. And rightly so. They weren't as epic as Metallica, as musically-gifted as Megadeth, or as mind-fuckingly heavy as Slayer. But they were definitely the most fun. Listening to "Caught in a Mosh" again after all these years brings a huge smile to my face as I mosh in my own living room. By myself.

BAYSIDE - I have been introduced to this band by Bheeler. I thought they were pretty good when I first listened to them, but for some reason I never specifically went back and sought them in my library. Until late last year when "They're Not Horses, They're Unicorns" kept coming up on Shuffle. Now I can't get enough of the whole album - a very unique sound and style.

BRAND NEW - Another Bheeler band. When I was in my final year at Nottingham, "Sic Transit Gloria ... Gloria Fades" was a minor hit in the U.K and also had the most demented video this side of "Diane". I'm not big on emo and Brand New are as emo as it gets. But, what sets them apart is their progressive approach - The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me is an album worthy of comparisons with Radiohead's OK Computer.

ELECTRIC SIX - We all thought they were a joke - you only needed to listen to "Danger! High Voltage" and "Gay Bar". The accompanying videos would confirm this. The other day I decided to go back to the album that gave us such sophisticated songs, Fire, and was pleasantly surprised that Electric Six is more than a joke. Unlike the Darkness, they knew to pen songs that had depth and weren't afraid to stretch.

GARY JULES - After seeing him in all his 'high' glory a few weeks ago, it became apparent that I had to go back to Trading Snakeoil for Wolf Tickets. He will always be associated with his incredible version of "Mad World", but that album proves that he is a formidable songwriter on his own too. Highly underrated and underappreciated.

IN FLAMES - The most famous band to come out of the Gothenburg scene, In Flames were only a name until the Ozzfest 2005. They were the opening act for the main stage and were definitely one of the highlights of the whole day. Since then, I have slowly but steadily grown immense appreciation for this band. If you like your music melodic, heavy, and emotional then In Flames are ready to blow your eardrums off.

KOSMOS - They are not strictly-speaking a Bru band, but it never hurts to escape the norm sometimes. Their self-titled 2007 album and especially the song "Dream" are now perennial must-plays of the day. It's part Krautrock, part space-rock, full on trip-fest.

LIVE - Although I have grown a bit cold after the abysmal Songs from Black Mountain, I went into a nostalgic fervour after finding The Distance to Here somewhere hidden in a box. I remember headbanging in my dorm room with Rich as "The Dolphin's Cry" rocked from the stereo, reveling in the uber-coolness of "The Distance", and shedding a few tears over "Dance with You". Throwing Copper may have been their finest hour, but The Distance to Here is for me the quintessential Live album.

MANOWAR - Death to False Metal. Manowar are so easy to make fun of. Yet, there is no denying the fact that when it comes to writing some kick-ass and catchy tunes, there aren't many bands that can rival Manowar. Hail to England has lent many a song to my playlists of late.

PARADISE LOST - It's strange, but I paid to see Paradise Lost twice. It's strange, because until recently I have lived in ignorance of this amazing band. "Enchanted" from their breakthrough Draconian Times and "Fader" from their amazing Believe in Nothing only confirm that this is a band with immense talent. I now wish I had paid to see them more over the years.

PULP - Brit-pop was great. It filled the gap after grunge imploded and brought a much-needed cheekiness to the whole shebang. Pulp's origins go way before bands like Oasis and Blur became ultra-mega-super stars, but they are without doubt one of the key bands of the era. I always thought Different Class was a great album - perhaps one of the greatest pop albums ever. Listening to it again after ten years, I'm amazed how fresh it still is. "Disco 2000" has now become one of the most melancholic songs ever.

There it is. I have always kinda liked these bands, but now I appreciate them even more. Maybe in five years I will come up with a new list and a new group of bands that I tend to ignore (skip) during shuffle now. Who knows who they'll be?

Peace.

- The Bru

I Want to "Scream"

Warning! This piece contains some use of superlatives for Chris Cornell ... sadly most of them will not apply to his new album.

If somebody asks me who my favourite vocalist is, I will proclaim without any hesitation that it is Chris Cornell. The man has defied lung capacities for all rock singers ever since Soundgarden released their early heavy stuff. Before the said band went stratospheric, he masterminded the Temple Of The Dog project - a good contender for the best album of '90s and, arguably, one of the most important albums of any genre. Then Soundgarden imploded and he went solo and released what I believe to be a really good album with "Euphoria Morning". When the announcement was made that RATM guys would  record an album with Cornell, I thought that finally we have our generation's Zeppelin. Even though Audioslave imploded under its own weight (implosion is a common theme in Cornell's musical career, it seems), they released one good album ("Audioslave"), one very good album ("Out of Exile"), and one great album ("Revelations").  I'm not biased at all.

In the middle of all this, he released another album where he tried to emulate (he didn't have to) people like Nick Drake or Jeff Buckley. It was a patchy album, but it had that amazing version of "Billie Jean". Then I was informed by none other than Mr. Rican himself that Timbaland was producing Cornell's new album. My first raction: "Isn't his album out already? Why is he making another one so soon?" My second reaction: "Who the fuck is Timbaland?" When I found out about who the fuck Timbaland was, I said to myself: "Fuck".

The new album took a long time to hit the shelves. I'm sure Cornell realized his error halfway through and wanted to take a low profile. Because, you know, I grew up with grunge. And people like me don't like their music to be tampered with by, of all people, hip-hop "artists" (sorry, I couldn't resist). I like elements of soul and old school R&B (I'm talking about Sly & the Family Stone and Stevie Wonder stuff, not fucking Beyonce) in grunge ... but Timbaland? Is Chris Cornell becoming like Justin Timberlake? Don't get me wrong, I love JT's contributions to music with hits like "Dick in a Box" and "Jizz in My Pants" (he only has a cameo in the video), and he's very good at what he does. He has a massive fan base, but I'm just not part of it. And I don't like the artists that I like to succumb to the pressure to make a hit or blend in with the "in" crowd.

I respect Chris Cornell's ambition and his decision to diversify his output, or whatever. But, I think it becomes a little masturbatory when bands / singers do shit like this. As I'm writing this U2's new shit is playing on TV ... I don't think I can write what I'm thinking about here, because, you know, this not the fucking place to spew out obscenities on vermin like that. There, I said it. I think U2 are the vermin of the music business. They write shit, release that shit ... and make people buy that shit, because it says U-fucking-2 on the link you click with your mouse.

Anyway, back to "Scream". There are some great moments, like the transition from the opening song "Part of Me" to "Time" - a power-chord bonanza that really got my hopes up. Similar transition also appears at the end of "Get up". By the way, the chorus for "Part of Me" is No, that bitch ain't a part of me (I'm not fucking kidding). "Take Me Alive" has a certain Soundgarden quality to it, but without Kim Thayil's crunching guitars. "Scream", the best song on the album, could easily be the best song he released as a solo artist ... he just needs to get rid of that rap part in the middle (I'm assuming it's Mr. Timba-fucking-land) and the annoying beats that drown everything else, including the vocals. The rest of the album has moments of genius, but also moments that make you think if Cornell intentionally paid Timbaland to ruin his music. I'm hoping that's the case, because that would be a great post-modern twist that Cornell is playing on the music business before announcing that Soundgarden are getting back together (I like to daydream).

I really wanted to hate this album. But I couldn't. His voice is still very unique, despite the tweaks here and there (I guess Mr. Timba-fucking-land thought that Chris Cornell was some 18-year-old kid who just wants to get rich and bang some bitches without an iota of singing talent). The songs are actually very good - it's just the arrangements that ruin them. I hope that Cornell re-releases this album with songs re-mixed and re-arranged by somebody like Rick Rubin. Now that would be something special. The odds of that happening? Not as good as a Soundgarden reunion. I guess I'll just blast "Louder Than Love" and remind myself that Chris Cornell is still the best there is.

I Watched the Watchmen

While Rican was having his regular dose of estrogen with chick flicks, I joined the horde of nerds around the country and saw the I-can't-believe-it's-already-out Watchmen. Now, I have done nerdy things before, like waiting outside an Apple Store in London for the unveiling of Tiger a few years back, or actually queuing up outside the Odeon Leicester Square to watch and subsequently weep at the abomination that was The Phantom Menace. However, I hadn't practiced that most beloved and essential nerd-action called reading comic books. I think I had a similar discussion with Bheeler before. When it comes to comic books, I am an utter philistine. My knowledge comes from the movies ... and pretty much ends there.

As you do, I got caught in the whole Watchmen shebang after seeing the first publicity photos on the Empire magazine. The existence of Watchmen had eluded me all these years. Later, it started to pop out in random conversations with random people - obviously the rumor mill had already started to turn by this point. Eventually, or perhaps inevitably, I caved in. I bought a copy of the comic ... and read it four times in a row. I agreed with everything that was said about the book - deconstructing the myth of superheroes, and all that shite. But, I was also totally mesmerized by the characters, the abundant yet subtle symbolism of the graphics, the sexual undertones, and the in-yer-face violence ... My only concern was the incongruous ending - I just couldn't buy it.

I got ready for this weekend by going through all the available trailers online - including that one with the Smashing Pumpkins song. Then last night, I decided to go one step further and bought a ticket for a midnight showing here in Portland. Needless to say, the nerd count at the theater was off the charts. And after nearly two hours and forty-five minutes, I was a satisfied filmgoer. I don't want to jump to a quick conclusion here, but ... who cares ... it is the best comic-movie adaptation I have ever seen.

That might not sound like a great epithet, because the competition does not really include many gems. Last year's The Dark Knight excepted, I'm not a fan of the genre. And don't even get me started on Spider-Man 2. So, I don't think it's in any fair to claim that Watchmen and the Dark Knight are the best comic-book adaptations ever. They are great films of any genre.

I wanted to write a review here, but I know Bheeler will do a better job at it. Also, I can't really be objective about it and my perspective might change after watching it again this weekend on IMAX. Now, I wonder if Dr. Manhattan's schlong will be distracting this time ... Probably not, because there will always be Silk Spectre II. Saucy.

Peace.

Chick Movies

As some of you decide to go on and on about Myths and Bruce Springsteen's performance on the Super Bowl (It's called a Half Time show, boys.  SHOW as in show bitnezz) and the selection of flicks at the multiplex is so uneven and disparate, I have resorted to catching up on my chick flick department to further enhance my understanding of the female (in film) and their plight as the following two movies suggest... "Baby Mama," and "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2."

"Baby Mama" was not written by Tina Fey, as I assumed, but by a fresh double threat named Michael  McCullers: the scribe behind "Austin Powers in: Goldmember," and "Undercover Brother."  This immediately lowered my expectations as I thought that the partnering of Fey and Poehler would be enough to carry the film to an end.  However, the script as its own entity was fine, it was the performances that seemed canned.  Almost as if McCullers  kept telling the actors, "do less;" which in this particular type of comedy is a "no, no."  Not even the brief "Caddyshack" reference (used to accentuate Fey's breasts) almost works (as I am openly obssessed with the actress), but not enough to save this pallid and tepid attempt at comedy.  The only conclusion I can arrive to is poor direction.  Granted, it's McCullers first, but I refuse to be generous.  Let the talent breathe.  You got Steve Martin, Dax Shepherd, and Tina Fey/ Amy Poehler.  Let them do their thang!  I would bore you all with the plot of the movie but I won't.   I will tell you that it is not as bad as a post SNL Rob Schneider cinematic wall shot, but it only aspires to little and therefore it reaches... little.  Did I learn anything about women?  If I were to judge by this, I can conclude that successful business women pay the price by having a barren womb (until they accidentally fall in love) and that they must rely on uneducated, trashy women to gain a personality and if lucky, a surrogate baby. To make matters worse, when watching the original ending (as a DVD extra) you will find yourself thinking: "Why didn't they go with this instead??" - as it ties everything up much nicer than its original.

"The Sisterhood of Traveling Pants 2." Yes, I did watch this sequel with much more anticipation than I will with McG's "Terminator- Salvation."  Why?  Because the characters are still fresh and still intriguing as they were in the first.  I mean come on, if this were a story about a bunch of high school boys, it would be about drinking, screwing, and having fun.  But that movie was made already and it was called "American Pie."  The "Pants" series, however, are somewhat of the "Pie" franchise in reverse as we deal with similar cliches of the young female teen species, but handled with better care and respect toward the characters.   The gals, although homogenous in their needs to be loved, respected, accepted, or in some cases, forgiven, they all appear very distinct.  Each with a different personality and aspiration.  There's even a hispanic (the cleverly named America Ferrara). Unlike "Mama," "Pants" is directed by a female, Sanaa Hamri, also in her feature debut.  Not to be Captain Obvious, but she appeared to have a bit more control over her subjects (as they're all pretty talented) and the fact that the previous film was also a hit of sorts.  I'm particularly smitten by Amber Tamblyn (Tibby) who handles a pregnancy scare so well; with enough humor and pathos to make Meryl Streep proud.  What did I learn about women?  That they are more than the sum of their young, adolescent (in this case, young adulthood) parts.  That they have to deal with more responsibility and social stigma than men.  That women are complicated at an early age.  However, if you're pretty enough or if you surround yourself with the right group of people, everything will be alright.  Even if you don't have a pair of jeans to pass around and share with your buds.  Something that men would never, ever do.

Bruce Springsteen - The Best Part of the Super Bowl?

Okay, no. Not really. But come on, seriously, Bru. How can you hate The Boss? "Born to Run?" Classic!
Look, you're not alone. There are plenty of you musically un-inclined out there ;-) And I applaud you for being one of the few people to point out how ridiculous that guitar toss was.
But that, THAT was a great half time show. I'm pretty sure he qualifies as a senior citizen, but doesn't rock like a dinosaur a-la the stones or a homeless hippie a-la our blessed Neil Young. The set was impressive, 2 out of 4 songs were classic and, to be honest, it was the most memorable portion of the first 4/7s of the whole damned bowl.
But this isn't a sports blog, so I won't go on about that. On the subject of The Boss, I must protest - he's a legend, and for good reason. I won't judge you for your hatred of U2, because I at least understand the logic behind it. And heck, I won't judge you for your lack of Boss appreciation, despite my earlier jab. To each their own...
But personally, I think the Boss rocked.

Bruce Springsteen Ruined My Super Bowl

The Boss came on stage and first he told us to stop eating our chicken fingers and - oh horror! - guacomole. Quite how appetizing it will be to dip bread-crumb-battered chicken fingers in the glorious guacamole is a thought I would rather not have, but how dare he say that? To add salt to the injury, he then throws his Telecaster up in the air as a groupie tries to catch it and nearly drops the damn thing. I'm not even going to indulge myself in the abhorrent song choices - though I can't think of anything I like by the man. Just when you think things cannot get any worse, he slides across the stage only to hit a poor camera with his crotch. Now, those things cost money. But also, how can I ever get the image of Bruce Springsteen's patriotic manlihood in tight black jeans careening towards me in Hi-Def out of my head? I felt like Serena Williams after she saw the streaker running across the court in Australian Open.

The game was fantastic - I'm not going to compare it to last year's, because that is very close to home, but the last 3 minutes were exhilerating stuff. It was a fitting finale to an unexpected year. We'll see what drama unfolds come September.

The Bru

I Have to Be a Cylon

First of all I would like to apologize for last night's bizarro post - I had a few beers in me and reading it this morning, it made absolutely no sense. So I deleted it. No hard feelings.

Bheeler made a great point about how (un)important it is for a product of popular culture to have some sort of an artistic merit. This was a response to my praise for  BSG to be an intellectually stimulating and challenging show. I agree with Bheeler that when comparing a show like Lost with the works of Shakespeare, the winner is  determined - by proxy - to be the latter because of its chronological advantage. Not that Shakespeare doesn't merit academic scrutiny, but the pedestal the academics and the critics put him on makes me question the validity of his artistic merit even more (that's two merits in one sentence). Same goes for the Oasis vs. the Beatles battle.

I also agree that studying or debating the made-up mythology behind popular culture is also an act of legitimizing them in our minds that they are serious shows and not just popcorn entertainment. A show like Lost, or BSG, or Alias have as much popcorn value as they do artistic value, but because of their chronological disadvantage and their inferior medium (television) will make them less worthy in artistic terms when academics will look back on early 21st century popular culture.

I have just watched last night's episode of  BSG online and I had goosebumps all over me. Yes, I keep salivating over this show too much maybe, but my excitement does not only stem from what I see on the screen, but what this show will represent in the years to come.

The filmmakers of our generation will be remembered for a few new innovations and developments that are, in my opinion, rather bland compared to the previous generations. Now, I'm not trying to say that Casablanca is a more worthy addition to the film cannon than Fight Club, but I would rather my generation be represented with filmmakers not named McG or Eli Roth. Let's  face it - the current filmmaking generation sucks ass. Yes, Scorsese still comes up with a scorcher once in a while. Yes, the Coens got their groove back (somehow), and yes Fincher just revealed a side we have never seen before. But they are not  strictly our generation. (Well, maybe Fincher is. And let's not forget Nolan). But, the predominant products of popular culture of our times are rather ... well... un-artistic, for want of a  better word.

Now, here's my point. I see a show like BSG shining like a beacon for the generations to come. Not because it has the best special effects on television I have ever seen, nor because it put a fledgling cable network (SciFi) in the big league. But because I feel that it will be a show critics and academics will be talking about not because of its place in a timeline, but because of its content. How many shows or films of the last 20 years can claim to that? You can go on about Blair Witch and Cloverfield's brilliant marketing strategies, but they are nothing but glorified Creature from the Black Lagoon - again, nothing is wrong with that. But BSG, in my humble  opinion, goes a little beyond that. And that's why I think it will be a landmark show - not in a popular sense (how many people can say that an Antonioni film is their favorite?), but in an academic sense. I can now claim to have been witness to a show that transcended popular culture and academia legitimately.

So say we all ...

The Ru

P.S. There are a few slight SPOILERS in this link, but it is an interesting article about shows that ultimately come to an end.

What the F*CK is wrong with Matt Damon?

After reading The Bru's last posting and reading the article from the link, I have to ask: What the F*CK is wrong with Matt Damon. Seriously, Matt, I still want to be your bro and all. But bro's need to know when to slap around another bro, and bro, you need to be slapped! (okay, I'm done with the bros).

Not only does he call Bond "repulsive" and fail to see the merit in the story quality of his over-exaggeration, he lets the rag who quoted him get away with calling Miami his home town. Miami? HIS HOME TOWN? A sad, sad day for Bostonians.

Anyway, I agree with The Bru - New Bond = Good Bond, but this is one of those apples-oranges situation - they're both fruit, and they're both good (and good for you).

And yes, I think I just called James Bond and Jason Bourne fruity.

Cylons, Others and TV's Mythological New Wave

Okay, so the title of this blog sounds a bit more academic than I'm actually feeling right now. To be honest, I think there's a paper there, and if I ever get REALLY, REALLY bored, I'll write one. But the fact is, the mythology we're finding in shows like Battlestar, Heroes, Lost, Fringe and basically anything else that has to do with J.J. Abrahms has a great number of us dedicating hours to television without actually (and conceivably ever) sitting down in front of one. The symbolism in numbers, the complications of history, the meaning of the name of a character, a passing character, even a hydrogen bomb - the diehards in our audience spend hours dissecting, to varying levels of insanity. Occasionally I find myself asking "why?" It's like succumbing to a spell, this dedication to determining meaning, often in things that were never meant to be determined.

Ask yourself this - is it really necessary to ponder whether or not the H-Bomb in this week's episode of Lost was named after an Archie character. Is it a coincidence? Are we wasting our time searching for meaning in the meaningless? Or are we mean to decipher that fact? And even if we do, what answers, insight, NEED could that reasoning ever really supply/meet. What I'm asking is this - why does it even matter?

It's at times like this, when I'm wondering if I'm playing ridiculous mind games with a dubious, manipulative opponent who's spinning me around like a carefree marionette player, that I wonder why I even bother. Sometimes, it just feels like too much energy wasted on something that will only in a very small percentage actually change my life (if at all).

But then again, that isn't the point. We may be putting too much faith in these shows, dedicating too much of our lives to popcorn entertainment (I'm 87% certain I am with Heroes), but it's fun. We're not going to stumble across a life-changing secret. But we can debate, relate and contemplate with our fellow viewers, dorking our way through this new age of entertainment the same way great philosophers dorked their way through story time, and great minds studied Shakespeare. What makes Shakespeare so worthy of studying? What does his work have that Lost does not?

Nothing, if not prestige. So yeah, I'll continue to read the Doc Jensen columns over at EW. (daily, as long as I'm trapped at my desk at work). And at some point I'll delve into BSG. Because a.) it's fun b.) it's intellectually stimulating d.) it's every bit as artistically credible as fucking Kafka.

Peace n Love

-Bheeler

Bourne Vs. Bond: Let Battle Begin

Matt Damon doesn't like James Bond films. He recently reiterated his contempt for them. I think he is right on the money with branding Bond as a misogynistic, imperialist, Martini-chugging murderer. However, I think it is a cheap shot and futile one at that. First of all, Bourne movies - in my ever-so-humble opinion - will take the Bond movies to circus and leave them as appetizers for the lions (bad metaphor, but it's still too early). As for the futility of the jab, I don't think Bourne movies will ever replace the Bond movies in film history, now will they ever threaten their legacy. Yes, they are both spy films, but can they be any more different?

It is true that the last two Bond movies took a lot of inspiration from the Bourne franchise, broke many a box-office record, and received critical applauds across the board, but they are not quintessential Bond movies. I don't hide the fact that I am not a Bond fan and I actually prefer the last two films - in purely cinematic sense - to the earlier ones by a mile (with the exception of the brilliant Goldfinger). Yet, they feel so alien in terms of what the Bond franchise stands for. They are no longer escapist fantasies (yes, politically incorrect, but what is really politically correct about Hollywood cinema?), but gritty, I-will-punch-you-in-the-nose-till-you-bleed-to-death-while-I-don't-sleep-with-this-incredible-Ukrainian-beauty action-fests.

I prefer Bourne films, but I think comparing them is not necessary and, like I said before, futile. It is like comparing The Godfather and GoodFellas - two gangster movies that are completely different in their appproach to the genre. And no - I am not comparing Thunderball with The Godfather.

The Bru

I Think I Might Be a Cylon

The re-imagined Battlestar Galactica is nearing its end and it is a sad state of affairs. What has been a great run since 2003 is coming to a close in mere 8 episodes. Quite how satisfactory the end will be is up for question, but I am pretty sure that it will be nothing short of phenomenal considering the quality of the series so far.

It is usually quoted as being one of the smartest show on television and I concur with that statement wholeheartedly. Even though I am a Lost fanatic like my fellow contributors of this blog, Battlestar Galactica is the only show I can go on for hours contemplating and debating (usually with myself) the philosophical questions put forward at every single episode: What does it mean to be human? Who decides who should be human? Is the notion of an omnipotent creator a merely human creation? In extreme situations - such as when mankind faces total annihilation - should our point of view concerning issues such as abortion or racism be altered to accomodate the circumstances? And so forth ...

There is a plethora of  material online that synopsizes the show, but the gist of it is that humans living on 12 distant planets created Cylons - machines, robots, toasters, etc. - to help them in their daily lives. However, the Cylons somehow evolved (not an accurate word to describe what happened, but it will do now) and wage war against the humans. After a lengthy armistice  (40 years - a clear religious allegory) the Cylons attack the humans and annihilate them all, save for a ragtag fleet. The remaining humans search for a mythical planet - the 13th colony - Earth, while the Cylons are in hot pursuit. The catch? They look like humans now.

The original 1978 series painted a very Manichean worldview and it was an escapist, shiny, Mormon-influenced Star Wars copy. Ronald D. Moore and David Eick took out all the varnish and presented us a rather pessimistic worldview with moral ambiguities hitting us left and right. I think the most important question asked by the writers is whether we are humans or Cylons. I, personally, don't share the religious beliefs of the Cylons, but I think I might be a Cylon. Or, perhaps I would like to be a Cylon. Maybe I am. And if so, watch out humans ...

The Bru

Sad, Pathetic People Doing Sad, Pathetic Things - Revolutionary Road (Movie Review)

A nice, vibrant young couple from the city (played by Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, a.k.a the doomed couple from Titanic) gets married, has a baby and moves to the suburbs to live out the American dream. They get a nice white house, with red shutters and a blue roof. They meet nice people, bring in nice money…and begin the dull, deathly decay towards lifeless existence.
I’m going to tell you something right now – everybody I talk to about this movie hated it, and surprisingly not just because it’s morbidly depressing and incredibly upsetting. They hate the characters, the story, the atmosphere, the movie’s very existence. Are there good performances by talented actors? Sure, but they don’t care because they can’t stand who the actors are playing. Is the 1950s/60s set design done well? Of course, but you can get that on Mad Men, and Mad Men doesn’t suck.
I actually didn’t quite hate this movie, but only because I have such respect for director Sam Mendes. Since bursting onto the scene at the end of the century with American Beauty, Mendes has displayed a knack for the craft, for finding the symbolism in the moment, the excellence in a shot. Stylistically, compositely, he’s one of the very best. What he’s not always good at, apparently, is picking the best story.
Revolutionary Road is the rare film that was doomed before a single scene was ever shot. Why? Because the screenplay (by newcomer Justin Haythe) is simply despicable. I never read Richard Yates’ novel, so I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt and assume there’s something there worth merit. But if there is, Haythe failed to tap into it. In fact, based on what we have here, he seems to have avoided it.
Because the characters aren’t just hateable, they don’t even seem real. Their aliens, spinning about creating needless problems and ruining their lives all because they can’t shake the feeling that they’re already ruined. They flail about, uncontrollably upset and self-destructive, and incredibly unaware of how horrible they are.
The thematics here are nothing new – it’s your basic quarter-life crisis, with young people realizing that life is finite, and believing they’ve missed their chance to truly live it. But aside from a broad sense of that thematic, there’s no reasoning here for us to understand, no tangible force to push or pull at our characters, or our sympathies. It all just seems so…pathetic.
Maybe that’s the point. I don’t know. I do know the only thing that seems real in this movie is the helplessness of powerless people consumed by a truly horrible yet nonsensical fight. And that frustration is nothing to base a movie on.
Sorry, Mendes. You’ll get ‘em next time, champ.

- The Movie Guy

Biopics, Che, Oscars, etc. - An Email Rant from Rican

Personal depth is what we seek in biopics. But to be quite honest, I'm fed up with them; even though I just watched one... I got to see Che a couple of weeks ago.

Although it lacked "personal depth" in the traditional sense, it made up for it by showing Che's impact by his interaction other historical characters in the film and overall behavior (but that's just Method Acting). However, we truly never got a reason for his actions. It's a good companion piece to Motorcycle Diaries, although both are very, very different. They both do, however, romanticize and mythologize the Che respectively. Benicio is incredible in it and his omission from the Oscar ballot pains me a little.

Which leads me to...

I found the Oscar roster kinda... boring (except for a few nods). I only wish to see Mickey Rourke and Robert Downey Jr. win for their respective categories. Unfortunately (Fortunately?) and quite inevitably, Ledger may take it home. I think getting the Globe (and all the other awards he's received already) ought to be enough, in my Brown opinion.

I do think that Brad Pitt could win since everybody is so darned obsessed with the guy despite his just above average acting talent (again, Brown opinion). Although I haven't seen it, I'm willing to bet that Button works for Pitt because of Fincher (duh!) and because half of the movie he is a CGI'd novelty act (as the geriatric Gollum-esque geezer, thus pleasing the skeptics) but when he ages into the beefcake that we're used to, I'm certain that the movie pivots toward the female demographic. Ugh! I hope Rourke takes it home so he can vindicate his career. Pitt's got 20 great movies and many nominations ahead of him. Rourke may have 20 B-Movies ahead of him and probably no further Oscar nom.

I do, however, agree with The Dark Knight getting the golden shaft. I mean, come on... The Reader...? It's probably the richest and most accomplished Action/Thriller (disguised as a Cartoon movie) and considering all the records and high praise, it makes no sense why it wouldn't be... I think that Slumdog will sweep as it is so underdog. I think it's main competition would be "Button" as it appears so epic.

The lack of a real host truly bothers me. Why can't Charlie Day host the Oscars... ? Or Broken Lizard...? But Hugh Jackman???!!!

... I bet the 'Bru is pleased and looking forward to it.

-riCan

Skim, not Whole Milk (Movie Review)

Every so often a film comes around that is so un-inspirational in its quality, so middlingly good, that it is difficult to find an argument either for or against, and therefore troubling to review because we don’t really feel one way or another about them. Generally a critic will send these films off with a shrug. I myself have probably labeled them as films that are “just there.” But when said film is a buzz-generating, award-gathering film like Milk, “just there” becomes the heart of the argument.

Milk is the winner of at least eighteen 2008 film awards, and is the source of numerous Oscar nominations, including Best Picture, Director (Gus Van Sant), Actor (Sean Penn, as title character Harvey Milk), Supporting Actor (Josh Brolin, as Harvey’s closeted, struggling political opponent) and Original Screenplay (the true story was arranged for the screen by Dustin Lance Black). Is it good? Sure. But is it great? It’s obvious by now that I don’t think so.

I thought it would be. It’s the story of the first openly gay American politician, a man who stood for his beliefs, his people, his way of life, and then lost that life, in more ways than one, to that very cause. It’s pretty naturally presented by Black and Van Sant, pretty seamlessly acted by Penn and co-stars Brolin, Emile Hirsch and James Franco. But it never transcends that quality. It never pushes past the barrier of “good” and rises to the next level. It’s never, really, as inspirational as its story, a story that itself is bigger than the film.

Like fellow Oscar runner Frost/Nixon, Milk is a historical piece that essentially “gets by” on its history. It presents that history with confidence, and with great players playing great roles. But that wasn’t enough in Frost/Nixon to keep the Movie Gal from labeling it “boring,” and it isn’t enough here for me to approach this film with anything more than a shrug.

I won’t put it down, or chastise it. In fact, I think to a lot of people it will live on as a shining beacon of historical inspiration. You can’t account for taste in this critical world, and you can’t account for personal politics. I will say that I like Frost/Nixon better because it excelled in the one area I believe Milk most failed – personal depth. Frost/Nixon was able to carve into real people and find their soul, to the extent where we got to know them for more than their actions. Milk is glossier, and despite a penchant for intimate moments and subtle ticks, I never really felt like I got to know these people on a personal level, or why they made the personal choices they made.

And that’s what you hope for from a great film – a personal (ideally inspirational) experience or goosebump greatness. Maybe this says something about me as a person, but I got that from the Oscar snubbed Dark Knight. I didn’t get that here.

- The Movie Guy