Due to a number of factors (price, schedule, etc.), here is my ordered list:
My Morning Jacket, May 20
Savath & Savalas (Scott Herren), April 24
-or- Definitive Jux tour, April 23 (but probably not if I decide to go to Savath + Savalas the night after)
Einstürzende Neubauten, May 1
TV on the Radio, April 18
Squarepusher, April 10 (if I can somehow get KRLX programming done)
Grandaddy and DJ Shadow are looking expensive at the moment, plus
I'll be less inclined to go to shows during the MSP Film Festival,
where I'd rather be spending my time since it's only happening for two
weeks, so I may be less inclined to see BRMC, Ester Drang, or the
Distillers. Air is expensive and on Wednesday, which is about the worst
night of the week for me, so that one may also be out. MF Doom will be
at the Triple Rock on May 22, but that's Spring Concert, which is free.
I'm going to guess I'll hit three or four of these this term. I'm
99% sure I'll see My Morning Jacket, and probably Savath & Savalas
and Einstürzende Neubauten, since Saturdays and especially mid-term
break will be open. TV on the Radio will probably depend on how much
homework I have that weekend. I might try to pick up tickets for Savath
& Savalas and Einstürzende Neubauten this weekend at Electric
Fetus. Stopping by the Quest would be a little bit more of a trek into
downtown, but it's not unlikely.
And then, of course, one can't forget Dick Dale.
The first half or so of Something's Gotta Give was incredibly
light and lively, and I assumed that it was going to be a relatively
short movie with some kind of screwball ending. But then it kept going
and going. Not that the second half was bad, far from it, but the
pacing felt odd. It was kind of like there were two story arcs, but the
second one never really rose high enough to recapture my interest as
the first had. Apart from any inconsistency with the pacing, the movie
was clever, funny, and surprisingly honest for a romantic comedy. Jack
Nicholson and Diane Keaton were both in fine form, and though I can't
verify how their characters compare to actual sixty year olds, I can
say that I enjoyed both their performances.
Also, Let It Blurt just told me that Robert Christgau has apparently always been a pompous know-it-all. That's comforting, I suppose.
And, iTunes song #8500: Bright Eyes "The Big Picture"
Last night I waited in the longest movie-ticket line I've ever been
in outside the Oak Street Cinema in Minneapolis to see Lars von Trier's
Dogville. It was kind of a thrill to be seeing something that
was clearly anticipated by the audience who had arrived long before to
assure themselves a seat.
Von Trier's use of a nearly bare stage really wasn't distracting,
mostly because of the copious narration. I had a difficult time, as
with most devices in the movie, trying to figure out specifically what
the director was attempting with his lack of set. It seemed an
indicator that he was trying to lay bare his intentions and the basic
details of the movie. That would make sense with regard to the
narration, which was pretty comprehensive, as far as the psychological
processes of the characters went. Indeed, von Trier seemed much more
intent on communicating his message than with maintaining plot secrets
or driving the audience wild with suspense. For most of the film, it is
obvious that Grace's relationship with the townspeople is on a decline
that won't end happily, so the audience is never too surprised, except
for the severity of the human indignities inflicted, about what happens
to the main character.
The end, on the other hand, is entirely unsuspected. In fact, it
seems almost like a second act, because the whole dramatic perspective
changes, including the personality of the main character. There are two
points at which the narrator announces that, "There was a change of
light over Dogville," which may indicate the transition to another act,
even though the film claims to take place over a prologue and nine
chapters.
Many, many questions remain once the credits roll (to the plastic
soul of David Bowie's "Young Americans"): What is the significance of
the dog that lives in Dogville? What are we to make of Grace's
personality change toward the end? Was this destiny or just a likely
situation? Where in the film, if anywhere, is "justice" to be found,
and is there a preferred interpretation to this film? Is this a moral,
immoral, or amoral film? Is Dogville an American town or simply a town
populated by average human beings? Clearly, it would take numerous
viewings to unravel all the messages located within, which is all the
more amazing since von Trier at first seems to be very direct with his
audience. The story takes on the format of a fairytale, and one with an
ending more suited to the fierce old German stories than any recent
Disney reinterpretation. Thus we expect a direct moral resolution, yet
we aren't provided with one and are in fact more confused than we might
be after a traditional movie in which the messages are obviously
encoded and meanings hidden below the surface.
The film never struck me as specifically anti-American, though in
the last part of his review for the Village Voice, J Hoberman covers
that well. It seems to be more a critique of human nature, and I don't
think it's setting should offend viewers at all. Hoberman also had a
great piece on the film in the February 2004 Sight and Sound which
isn't available online.
J Hoberman review in the Village Voice and supplementary materials
Rolling Stone review
Onion AV Club review
Goodbye Blue Monday served me the same subpar coffee today that I've
gotten there before. Meg Pain seconded my notion that there is some
basic flaw with the coffee-making process there, but we were at a loss
as to what it might be.
iTunes song #9000: The Streets "Too Much Brandy"
Musicplasma is fun and informative to look at
Onion AV Club interviews Isaac Brock
I watched Paisan tonight but I don't have anything to say about it.
Ikea boss named richest in world
'How I stopped buying CDs and started loving music'
So you wanna fake being an indie rock expert...
So, I'm perusing All Music Guide and what do I find but an essay on white rappers. I think the last paragraph about white rappers in Europe is probably the most interesting.
Also, the new music below is on vinyl and checked out from the record library.
I watched Bicycle Thief again this evening and was too tired to pay attention, sadly.
I took a short nap before Film Society's screening of Vendredi Soir, which certain parties had described as a better depiction of urban ennui than Lost in Translation. I agree that it didn't include as many awkward or outlandish moments as LiT,
but I think Sofia Coppola's movie was a more enjoyable experience. I
enjoyed moments such as the one where the camera show the top three
letters of the "hotel" sign to foreshadow the evening to come, as well
as the portentous voice on the car radio. I also recognized Vincent
Lindon from Chaos, which I really liked when I saw it last summer.
Today's events, births, deaths, holidays
Selected other events (from on-this-day.com):
1789 - The U.S. House of Representatives held its first meeting.
1985 - Phyllis Diller underwent a surgical procedure for permanent eyeliner to eliminate the need for eyelid makeup.
1994 - Kurt Cobain (Nirvana) was found dead at the age of 27. He had committed suicide three days before.
1998 - George Michael was released on bail. The arrest was for engaging in lewd conduct in a park restroom.
Max, Anna, and
Summer delivered me a birthday pie of dubious manufacture, and managed
to entertain themselves while I talked to my parents on the phone. They
encouraged me to take this personality test,
which I did, and I scored a zero on extroversion (or 100 on
introversion). This sort of result doesn't surprise me, although the
extremity of it does. And no, I didn't falsify my responses to skew the
results.
Something else that surprised me today: the loudness of the drill
used to install a fire alarm (or something) in my room. It was
absolutely punishing. I'm glad I was just leaving for golf as they
really got enthusiastic about it.
Something that didn't really surprise me today: the relatively small
turnout at the Jack-organized Shape Note sing this evening. In fact, it
was just Jack for the first ten minutes, but we peaked at five
attendees around eight o'clock. It was still a satisfying experience,
but more people would probably make it more fun. It would be a nice
sort of thing to have in Northfield, if possible.
Morrissey has a new album and a feature in the Guardian. Morrissey on America:
He loves the weather and the landscape and "the endless
drives into nothingness". "America's such a fascinating monster that we
all think that it's just too grotesque to imagine waking up to every
single day. But there are good aspects to it, even though the awful are
truly awful. The arts are a struggle. Television's appalling. And after
all the American enlightenment we end up with George W. That's
frightening."
Thurston
Moore has an op-ed piece in the Times about Kurt Cobain, "alternative"
music, the avant-garde aesthetic of the Seattle scene, and what it all
means ten years later.
KRLX is broadcasting once again at 88.1 FM. Also, if you are out of range, get the webcast. Specifically, you should tune in between midnight and 1:30 on Thursday evenings/Friday mornings CDT.
Some comments:
Raja. An uncomfortable, awkward story about a failed romantic connection between a rich French guy and a Moroccan girl. Kevin
and I attempted to analyze the movie in the context of colonialism,
among other things, but I think we came away still a little befuddled.
Next weekend will entail both Crimson & Gold and The Tesseract on Friday, hopefully.
Party at 506 W 6th St. A pretty successful party with a
number of people I know but whom I don't know overly well. Some
interesting conversation about post-graduation plans, radio, German
toasting, shape note singing, the Carleton Singers, and, what else, Pitchfork. There was also dancing to be had in the room that wasn't the kitchen. I had some of it.
KRLX schedule. This has so far been the least stressful term
as far as programming and getting the station ready goes. Hopefully
that trend continues throughout the spring.
"Birthday party" at Allen House. I had sort of personally
designated the 506 W 6th St party my birthday party when I realized
that I wasn't going to make the one that had been planned, to some
extent, afterwards. So tonight (Saturday) we made up for it. All I can
say is that not everyone came away with the same head of hair they went
in with. Or any hair at all, for that matter. That doesn't imply me,
however, since it should be obvious to all and sundry that cutting hair
is not really my sort of thing.
Going to bed right now. An excellent idea.
This evening I went to see Surplus, preceded by a talk by anarchist/primitivist John Zerzan. He had some interesting points, but wasn't a very good speaker.
First, the film: if it succeeds at anything, Surplus is a
triumph of editing and recontextualizing both sound and images. In
fact, the entire film is a series of short pieces, often stylized to
better manipulate our opinions of what we're seeing and hearing. There
is no theorizing or ideology present in the film other than that big
corporations are scary, dehumanizing, and unstoppable. The filmmakers
interview a young Cuban woman about her visit to Europe, and she
reveals what a joy it was to eat a Big Mac with one hand while flipping
through satellite TV channels with a remote in the other. This is
preceded by an extended montage of various Cubans saying, "Rice and
beans." It was difficult to decipher just what the filmmakers thought
of Castro, Cuba, and socialism; or the anarchist movement in general.
They do suggest that capitalism engenders feelings of emptiness, but no
true alternative is offered.
I did really like one part, which was a scene at the sex doll
factory, where this grungy looking guy goes around describing the
differences between all these mannequin looking bodies hanging on hooks
waiting for heads. It was definitely a dystopian vision, though, like
with everything in the movie, probably not as awful as they made it
seem.
Which is a complaint I have about Zerzan. He seemed to deal in vague
apocalyptic warnings, which I never really go in for. I'm even on his
side as far as the deleterious effects of multi-national corporations,
but he just struck me as an alarmist, and not a coherent futurist. Much
like the filmmakers, John Zerzan was an expert at how the "system"
should be dismantled, but never clearly explained just how people would
happily return to primitive lifestyles. One of my major disputes with
what he had to say was that primitive peoples lived happily free from
war, pollution, etcetera ad nauseam. I find it hard to believe that
dismantling the global system of power (eg. corporations, nations, the
UN, the World Bank, ...) would reduce strife. Even if somehow the
anarchists could get enough people together to completely overthrow all
governments and corporations everywhere, I have no idea how they plan
to maintain any of the positive qualities of life they promise. Sure,
shit's bombed out in Afghanistan, but that leads to warlords and
disaster, not peace and tranquility.
I fail to see how setting people's cars on fire and throwing rocks
at storefront windows really gains you any sort of credibility. Zerzan
claimed that peaceful protest never got anybody anywhere, a point with
which I would beg to differ, but didn't offer any examples of how
destroying property would advance any cause other than poverty. At some
level, I understand the terrorist mentality, that in some cases it's
not possible to effect change through traditional channels or modes of
action, but the anti-globalization terrorists don't seem to be
advancing any specific point or ideology so much as a desperation. I
think that if you are going to accept the responsibility of attempting
to destroy a system on which everything runs, you'd better have a
pretty good backup plan ready, but I couldn't tell from what Zerzan
said that he or anybody he associates with does.
I think maybe the most effective plan of action for a primitivist
like Zerzan would be to attempt to act out visibly the principles he
espouses by forming a community that would succeed at living a
sustainable lifestyle. It seems to me that the average Joe, for whom
Zerzan claims to speak, would be much more excited by a visible and
viable alternative to the consumerist lifestyle than by terrorists
vandalizing the store where he buys his groceries.
For me, whatever exactly Zerzan was promoting, be it "anarchism,"
"primitivism," or whatever, offers very little in the way of hope.
Rather than creating new and better ways of living and interacting with
one another, he says, "Destroy, destroy, destroy!" Everybody can find
better things do with their time than that.
Michael Chabon has a powerful defense of teenage (and general) freedom of thought and expression in today's New York Times.
Let's see here...
Friday morning I attended a convocation featuring Barrie Osborne,
who talked about the challenges involved in making Lord of the Rings. I
got the sense that I could have learned the same stuff by renting the
special edition DVDs and watching the extra features. There was a
lunch/question-answer session afterwards: the sandwich was dry and
there were few good questions or answers.
Friday evening I tried to buy ticket(s) for My Morning Jacket at the
Quest Club. They claimed to be opening their doors at 9pm for
something, so I figured I could buy tickets. Well, the doors were
locked with no sign of opening. Jack and I navigated the treacherous
Minneapolis streets and made it across the river to Bell Auditorium. Crimson Gold
was a revealing look at urban Iran, which I tend to think of as a dusty
bowl of oppressive Islamic fundamentalism, but as with most cities, I
think, looked far more familiar in many ways to American cities than
I'd assumed. There were some clear examples of class conflict and some
other, more symbolic parts, and I thought in general the film did a
good job of communicating why, besides not having a lot of money, it's
tough to not be part of the privileged class, specifically in Teheran.
The Tesseract, on the other hand, was as bad as feared. At
heart it was a story about a shipment of drugs and how a lot of people
get killed in the process of trying to get the drugs to their
destination. Maybe it would have been okay had the director realized
this and simply focused on having his characters race through the
streets of Bangkok shooting a lot. Instead, the movie attempted to
touch on "the hip permeability of time," which was completely
irrelevant to the storyline and not useful at all. There were a lot
Matrix-like effects, eg. slow-moving bullets, guys with sunglasses and
trenchcoats defying the laws of physics and whatnot. This was also
foolish because all the effects evident in the film had been done
better elsewhere. There was also a scene of complete psycho-babble that
really didn't have anything to do with the story, but the filmmakers
attempted to use it to lend the ending some sort of significance (it
didn't).
Don't even get me started on the awful camerawork and massive abuse
of jump-cuts. Suffice it to say that the film contained about ten times
the number of shots it needed to tell the story visually. Rather than
being "cool," the jump-cuts were just stupid and distracting, though
really there wasn't much to be distracted from as far as the action
went.
Some of the translation was kind of funny, and there were a few
jokes that actually worked (or didn't but were funnier that way), but
please don't watch this movie. It's probably the worst one I've seen
since Cube. I think the worst scene was that in which the
psychologist, who is filming children talking about their dreams, goes
to this wretchedly poor place outside of Bangkok, and has this massive
grin on her face as she records the sadness around her on her digital
video camera. I have no idea why, which sort of sums up my assessment
of the movie in general.
Also, I forgot to mention that last week on Car Talk they played
Death Cab for Cutie's "Title and Registration" during an interlude. It
was kind of odd.
At the moment I am listening to the wind blowing everything down
outside and waiting for the cool weather to come back. Today was a
record temperature of 85, which means my room was less than pleasant.
Luckily, tonight we are having ice cream in the Evans lounge.
Also, thanks to Andy Wills I was reminded today that Richard
Thompson's "1952 Vincent Black Lightning" is one of the greatest songs
ever.
The Film Society website has been updated for the first time in two and a half years, although it's not all that exciting yet.
Kevin reminded me today that there was also a "great" scene in The Tesseract
when the director snaps from an image of an informant (or something)
who'd just gotten smashed by a car to an image of a slaughtered pig.
Poignant.
But really, the most important thing for you to know is that Kill Bill Vol. 2 does a perfect job of picking up right where Vol. 1 left off last fall.
First and foremost, I'm stunned that Quentin Tarantino filled a
two-part, four-hour movie with so much good stuff. Not only was I never
bored, I was never less than thoroughly entranced for the full length
of both parts. I enjoyed Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown (and Reservoir Dogs, though not to the same extent), but for me Kill Bill stands head and shoulders above the rest. Yes, I thought the non-linear storyline was amazing the first time I saw Pulp Fiction,
but once you realize that the movie is in essence several cinematic
short stories that overlap in time and place, it's not really
mindboggling anymore. The other two films were good but the violence
and the dialogue tended toward the brutal side, which sometimes put me
off.
Perhaps as amazing as the skill Tarantino shows in pacing his
lengthy film is the way he manages to get away with anything and
everything he wants. Roger Ebert (at least I think that's who it was)
has written of Pulp Fiction that it was an impressive
achievement not for the amount of violence or the twisting storyline,
but in the way that Tarantino can so manipulate the audience's reaction
to what he puts on the screen. As an example he points to the scene in
which Uma Thurman receives a needle to the chest in order to revive
her. In one sense it's either gross or disgusting, and would have come
off that way had Tarantino not chosen to cut away at the exact moment
the needle enters her chest. Thus, the audience gets the drama and
suspense of the situation, but not the actual event itself. I think
this skill is manifested greatly in Kill Bill.
It was obvious in the first half by the way Tarantino's incredibly
bloody violence affected the audience, which is to say positively. He
managed to take the "reality" out of the violence somehow, so that the
viewer could simply enjoy the action onscreen, removed from a sense of
social remorse or moral indignity at what was passing before their
eyes. His style enabled him to convey his love of samurai and slasher
films to the audience without having to worry about whether anybody
would be able to enjoy it. I'm not skilled enough to suggest exactly
what techniques were used for this, but they certainly worked on me.
Some of this was on display in the second half of the film as well,
but to a lesser extent. There were far fewer extended fight scenes, but
the oppressively sexist dialogue and dirtbag characters didn't go away.
The burial scene and the penultimate bit in Mexico at the brothel-type
place stand out as examples. This and the incredible violence done to
Uma Thurman have caused some critics to characterize Tarantino as
misogynistic or sadistic. I find it hard to believe these critics
watched the whole movie. It's quite clear that everyone who mistakenly
wrongs Thurman gets what's coming to them (and in a much less confusing
fashion than that in which Nicole Kidman avenges herself in Dogville).
In particular, the scene depicting Thurman's last assignment before she
stopped killing for Bill and the final sequence both argue strongly for
the superiority of women to men, but not in an overbearing way. It's
long been cliche to claim that a movie made you laugh and cry, that it
elicited differing emotions, but the two scenes that I just mentioned
were probably packed full of more conflicting emotion than anything
I've seen recently. When the Bride makes her "discovery" near the
ending, I found it as moving as the climax of any straightforward,
melodramatic feature in recent memory. Tarantino depicts such
incredibly intense action that it should come as no surprise that he
can appeal directly to your emotions as well as your bloodlust.
By the time the credits rolled, large masses of films and film
genres had been paid tribute, wrongs of all sorts had been righted, and
there hadn't been a misused moment. Thankfully, we shouldn't have to
wait as long again for another Tarantino movie, since Inglorious Bastards is set for release in 2005.
Pitchfork's review of the Fiery Furnaces' "Chris Michaels" gets me hot for the new album.
Aaron
McGruder on the Super Bowl: “We got—how many?—five hundred dead in
Iraq, and several thousand more wounded, and they worried about a
titty. A titty! What kind of sorry-ass nation is this?”
Also, Audioscrobbler keeps track of what you listen to on your computer, and then they compile that information for all users each week by song and artist. Just download the plugin for your music player. Here's mine.
Movies this week:
- Koyaanisqatsi at Film Society
- City of God 7 pm, Wed & Thur, LDC 104
- Mystic River 7 and 10 pm, Friday, Viking Theater, St Olaf
And I think this guy is my new hero.
Franz Ferdinand are the arts editors at the Guardian this week.
I must say, I'm pretty excited about the Olympic Hopefuls,
who will be playing the Cave this Friday. Mainly because that seems to
be what Camaro renamed themselves, and I really enjoyed the one Camaro
show I saw freshman year. I thought they'd stopped playing together in
that incarnation, but thankfully not. Hopefully I can buy an album to
replace the four shitty 64kbps MP3 files I have. I mean, the quality is
bad, but the music is good.
Professor Yeti has come out with issue 8, and I'm in it.
I suppose I should probably be writing my paper, so maybe I won't waste too much time here.
First of all, I have decided that a good nap is essential to a
successful moviegoing experience. I can't say how many times I've hated
movies because I'm so tired that I can't stay awake to watch them.
Conversely, I'm pretty sure that naps always enhance my enjoyment of a
movie, because it's not such a task to pay attention.
Second of all, I think the publicity for City of God was
somewhat limited, which might be okay because there's really not all
that much room in LDC 104 where it screened tonight and will tomorrow
night at 7. In short, this was as good a drug movie as The Tesseract
was a bad drug movie. It wasn't really just about drugs, but there was
a lot of crime and violence related to drug sales. Even beyond the
compelling story, the harsh realities of street life in Rio de Janeiro,
the great editing and camerawork (I especially liked how the history of
"the apartment" fit into the movie), City of God rivalled Kill Bill
in its effectiveness at using music to manipulate the audiences
reaction to on-screen violence. It's hard to say, but if you watched
this film with the sound off, you'd probably feel like vomiting or
swearing off anything more violent than golf. As it was, the filmmakers
chose to use music, specifically American pop music from the 70's, to
alleviate the crushing weight of the innumerable killings. Rather than
being utterly demoralized about poverty and human nature in general,
the soundtrack was one of the most vital elements in keeping the hope
of the audience alive until, finally, the protagonist made his way out
of the ghetto, showing that all was not lost for the residents of the
rundown neighborhood.
Third of all, I hope Max didn't suffer too much from missing the first half hour of Koyaanisqatsi.
I was overwhelmed by the images: the subjective manipulation of time
and the speed of life, especially in the city; the visual comparisons
of disparate things; the breathtaking nature shots. And there's the
music. Apart from just being incredibly good, the sound fused with the
images in a way reminiscent of Stanley Kubrick's films, at least for
me. The soundtrack absolutely determined the status or value of the
what was on screen; skyscrapers, superhighways, and grand canyons here
as opposed to, say, ultraviolence, milk bars, and "reformatories" in A Clockwork Orange. I was of course reminded of Vertov's Man with a Movie Camera, which I'm sure has served as inspiration for countless similar works, but, for whatever reason, I liked Koyaanisqatsi a lot better.
The Olympic Hopefuls appeared at the Cave Friday night in all their
track-suited glory. The opening band was not very excited about
playing, and their music was pretty derivative and not really that
good, so they kind of sucked. The Hopefuls played stuff from their
album, which I have now, and added a few extended jams throughout as
well as a very good and somewhat lengthy guitar solo during the last
song. I had to adjust to the changes they'd made to certain songs
they'd been playing as Camaro ("Holiday", "Pretty Bigmouth", "Whisper")
as well as to the fact that "Easier" had become a different song,
"Let's Go!"
Afterwards, I spent some time at a party on Division St. and then went home.
On Saturday I played Paperboy (much like today) and then had some wild times in Goodhue. Wild, I tell you!
Not much in the way of excitement today. Maybe next week.
"We
had a film student who wanted to film a couple performing a live sex
act in front of a class. We had students who set up a swimming pool in
their dorm room. Now we have this fellow."
I suppose if I do end up in Iowa this summer I will do my best to
see Guided by Voices in Iowa City on June 18. Also, the Decemberists
are playing the 400 Bar on June 3. And hopefully this weekend I will
figure out how to successfully procure My Morning Jacket tickets.
This week you should tune in to KRLX
on Sunday evening from 10:15 until midnight in order to hear me. That
being said, it wouldn't hurt you to listen at my regularly scheduled
time from midnight to 1:30 am Thursday evening to hear Dana and Adam.
In fact, it might even do you some good.