Saturday, May 28, 2011

I dare you to Suck It and See



The boys from Sheffield (High Green) are set to soon release their fourth album, entitled Suck It and See. The title comes from a British expression that loosely means “try something unknown,” and if you’ve never listened to the Arctic Monkeys, I strongly recommend you do. I’ve heard six of the twelve tracks and, at first listen, I’ve noticed an equal mix of the albums Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, Favourite Worst Nightmare and Humbug. With internet leaks and amateur concert footage galore, it’s nearly impossible to be surprised by a new release anymore. However, in scouring the net for anything Arctic Monkeys, I was surprised by the large number of fans who posted comments about wanting the “old Arctic Monkeys” back, which led me to write this.

All great bands ebb and flow throughout their careers. The Beatles, The Stones and Pearl Jam to name a few, all changed in some way during their careers. Hell, Eddie Vedder recently released a ukulele album, and who can forget the psychedelic phase The Beatles went through? Arctic Monkeys fans have to realize that the band members were 20-21 years old when Whatever People Say… came out. Their lyrics and sound were bound to change. In an interview about the new album, lead vocalist and main writer Alex Turner was asked what can be expected from the new album and he replied, “we always try to move on.” I personally can appreciate that in an artist. If music/musicians didn’t change, I might still have a mullet (in full disclosure, I can’t actually grow one, but a guy can dream) and Guns N’ Roses would be on their 10th installment of Appetite for Destruction. Now, on to my preview.

Suck It and See sounds like it’s going to deliver something for everyone, maybe even a song or two for those fans longing for some Fake Tales. Here are some thoughts on the new tracks I’ve heard. Track 2 – Black Treacle, which I learned oddly enough is a dark syrup, is a slow-to-mid tempo song that reminds me a little bit of Secret Door, Fire and a Thud or even an EP track called Too Much to Ask. Track 3 – Brick by Brick, the first song I heard from the new album, has a Humbug, “stoner rock” feel to it, but is also reminiscent of English 60’s rock. Matt Helders, who provides drumming and vocals for the band, takes more of a lead on this track and it works. Unlike many of Alex Turner’s lyrics, Brick by Brick is simple but still manages to rock. Track 4 – The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala has a Joining the Dots or No Buses sound. To me it doesn’t really stand out, but it’s a solid song we’ve all come to expect from Arctic Monkeys. Track 5 – Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair is a laid back song about very basic things one should not do. The best part of this song is at about the 40-second mark, when Jamie Cook’s guitar comes whining in, followed by Matt’s heavy drums and Nick O’Malley’s slow bass line groove. Don’t Sit Down… was my favorite song until I saw them perform Track 6 – Library Pictures, on Later with Jools Holland. This song will stay on repeat for me for a long time. I won’t compare it to Brianstorm, my favorite Arctic Monkeys track of all time, but it certainly comes close. It has that fast punk sound of Nettles or Sketchead. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4….3, 2, 1….a countdown has never made me nod my head with so much approval. Take a listen and you’ll see.

Track 8 – Reckless Serenade is a slow track with a poppy 60’s sound that the Arctic Monkeys pull off so well. With songs like this, Alex Turner is at his best. In my opinion, Turner is amazing at helping listeners visualize his music. It felt very much like The Bakery or Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts, two favorites of mine. Track 9 – Piledriver Waltz, first released on Turner’s solo EP for the movie Submarine, was re-recorded with the whole band for the new album. Track 12 – That’s Where You’re Wrong completes the 40+ minute album. It’s a slow track that picks up at the end – very similar to fan favorite 505.

In an interview with NME, Helders revealed that Suck It and See will feature "some songs a bit more instant. A bit more poppy, certainly, than Humbug was." Whether different than Humbug or similar to previous efforts, Suck It and See will reveal the next evolution of the Arctic Monkeys. I, for one, cannot wait. I just hope the fans begging for the old stuff will give Suck It and See an honest listen, because with three very different albums out already, the Arctic Monkeys have yet to disappoint.

Here’s the tracklisting for the new album, out June 7th:

1. She’s Thunderstorms
2. Black Treacle
3. Brick by Brick
4. The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala
5. Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair
6. Library Pictures
7. All My Own Stunts
8. Reckless Serenade
9. Piledriver Waltz
10. Love is a Laserquest
11. Suck It and See
12. That’s Where You’re Wrong

Friday, May 27, 2011

Bottle Rocket Motel In Danger

I really appreciate Wes Anderson’s films, but I’ve never seen his debut movie, Bottle Rocket. I’ve heard some mixed reviews of the film, but Rotten Tomatoes puts it at 79%, so it can’t be horrible.

I’ve actually wanted to watch it lately, so I was intrigued when I came across the following story on IMDb this morning. The site lead me to the Dallas Observer, and then rushmoreacademy.com, where I learned of two Rocket fans who are trying to save a Texas motel featured in the film from going out of business. They’ve even organized an event at the motel to raise money, set for July 9th.

This might seem silly to some – or most – but I know where the fans are coming from. What better way to celebrate the movies you love or, better yet, feel connected to them, than visiting locations they featured? I visited Washington, DC for the first time this past October, and I was able to check out the notorious steps featured in The Exorcist (on Halloween eve, no less) and I was kind of blown away. It was a unique thrill to visit a location from one of my favorite horror movies, and I was surprised to see that others were visiting the steps just to take some pictures.

Part of me wants to attend the event, even though I’ve never seen Rocket. I don’t know if they’re even screening the film – a Facebook invite doesn’t really go into specifics, although it does say that you’ll “spend the evening with a group of like-minded individuals, while helping to save (the motel)”.

While I won’t be there, I plan on attending in spirit by watching Bottle Rocket on July 9th. After all, I have to watch it sometime, and what better day than that? Hopefully the event will raise enough money to keep the motel around for fans of the film and Wes Anderson for years to come.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Madness . . . takes it's toll

I like the 5-Points theatre in Riverside. I really do. Where the suds flow, the movies glow and, at least during the Rocky Horror Picture Show, the narrators blow. We all know what the Rocky Horror Picture Show is and we all know that it’s shown across the United States and overseas with the pleasures of audience participation. What’s not very well known is how utterly annoying the experience is when only the two – call them narrator’s if you dare – are the only ones participating. Like the leaders of a lame team-building exercise our narrators tried their damnedest to (re)create the magic that is Rocky Horror. Alas they did not.

The movie itself is fantastic. Anyone who’s ever seen it can agree in one way or another: be it the music, “Time Warp” is distinct favorite of mine that’s had me hooked ever since I first heard it performed by Drew Carey and his friends on the old ABC TV show; the costumes, I must admit the one pleasurable thing about the audience participation was the two girls in their French Maid outfits; the cheesy Bness of the movie in general, I love the laser’s and shit that come out of left field near the end; or the good old fashioned joy of watching a young Susan Sarandon prance around in a wet bra screaming such things as, “Touch me, touch me, touch me . . .”, need I say more? The movie cannot not be appreciated. My only regret is that my Escape Hatch crew, who hadn’t ever seen the movie, couldn’t fully appreciate it with the ensuing malaise of our narrators.

Tim Curry is the true troubadour here, but then again I’m revealing nothing new. Even in his worst roles, Curry is still a delight to watch. I can’t imagine any other actor portraying Dr. Frank-N-Furter with such zest, such zeal, such . . . cheese. As cheesy as the acting may be, it was still was no match for our narrators, we’ll call them Tiny and Douche, and their startling performances. Or lack thereof. Tiny and the enormous belly protruding over his shorts had about the most ungenuine lisp escaping from his lips that I had ever heard. It reminded me of a poor-man’s “Cam,” from ABC’s Modern Family, only not funny and certainly not fun to watch. Or listen to. Or put up with. Douche played the “little buddy” routine to death, always wholeheartedly trying to upstage Tiny, but inevitably doing a horrible job. One couldn’t help but to reminisce of The Room and its brilliant performances. As the movie progressed deeper into the wee-morning hours of May 21st and our narrators continued their “ugh, sigh, blah, blah,” I couldn’t help but to think, Is this the rapture everyone’s been babbling about? Is this how the end begins? Of course I was wrong (along with countless others) but I wasn’t wrong about the horror displayed from these two guys trying to provide us a good time. The crew of To The Escape Hatch unanimously agree: The movie, the fun, the experience, our joy would have been and could have been much better, fun, wow, and high.

I may be coming off a little bitter. I know. I respect the narrators for giving it their all and I know for a fact that I could not/would not lead such a charge. And most assuredly not pull off a “job well done” if forced to. But where is the line? At what point during the 100 minute film do we call it quits and just sit back and enjoy the richness of Riff Raff and Magenta and pre-Apprentice Meat Loaf as Eddie? I daydreamed before sitting down in the theatre . . . maybe ‘ol Dr. Frank-N-Furter would get them this time . . . or what if our bra’d Heroine kicked our Hero in the nuts and took off with Rocky . . . oh, Riff Raff, Riff Raff, devious, sinking raft, one can only speculate what could’ve happened if he’d have gone a little further with the demented Dr. Furter . . . but I digress. My bitterness peaks with the fact that regardless of not being costumed, I may have well been wearing a bulls-eye on my face. I sorta thought the throwing of rice was cool, but it was a shitload of rice. Even one of our Hatchers complained of wiping rice from the bed the next morning. Not to mention the rice thwartily sticking to the hair goop entrenched on Robert’s head. My own kamikaze rice took dive into my fresh glass of beer. And the pitcher. So each progressive pour was accompanied by the little brown bastards. As soon as “GREAT SCOTT!” was shouted on the screen, I got creamed with toilet paper. On the head. It unpeeled as it rolled down my side and I’m pretty sure a portion dipped into my beer. Lime? No, thanks, guy, I’ll take a lil rice and some fucking tp. Why not? It was everywhere by the time it’s boa-constricting nature resolved itself. And it happened with each utterance of “GREAT SCOTT!” Near the end of the movie, glowsticks took flight and one pierced me in my jugular. I think Douche had it for me. I cried out a very loud cussword that shouldn’t be heard by virgin ears and at that point I was done. Ding. I’d had my fill of this Picture Show. By the end, I think the entire Hatch were all ready to get the hell out of there.

For anyone out there still unfamiliar with Rocky Horror I suggest watching it, at least once, alone or with a couple of close friends. It is undoubtedly original and even if you’re not into the whole “Transsexual Transylvania” motif, let it teach you a lesson of what could be out there in the deepest, darkest, wetest reaches of these blessed United States of America. Also keep in mind though the Rocky Horror Picture Show was officially released in 1975, one can only ponder of what’s evolved from such acts over the past 36 years.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Like a Virgin: The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Until recently, I had never seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show – at all. I knew it existed, and I knew that it had a cult following, but I had never once watched the film. Similarly, it wasn't until recently that I discovered that hardcore fans hold midnight screenings where they engage in heavy audience participation – there's basically a script for the audience to go along with the movie, and props are used throughout the film.

The Escape Hatch crew and I decided to check out this phenomenon at a midnight screening of the film at 5 Points Theatre. Nick, who had actually seen the film before, sat next to me and served as my guide in a way.

Most people are probably familiar with the plot. On a dark and stormy night, a young couple (Janet Weiss [A Heroine] and Brad Majors [A Hero]) are forced to take shelter at the castle home of Dr. Frank-N-Furter, a self-described “sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania.” Janet and Brad end up in their underwear a lot, singing and dancing ensues, and a creature named Rocky Horror is brought to life. Basically, odd, sexual things happen.

I'm pretty sure I enjoyed the movie. It's hard to gauge since it was my first time (teehee) and it's such an extreme way to experience a movie for the first time. And I had been drinking prior to the movie. And I drank during the movie – gotta love that 5 Points beer on tap.

I'm not necessarily a fan of musicals, but I enjoyed the songs for the most part. "The Time Warp" is pretty well known and the performance in the movie is fun. However, Nick turned to me shortly after the number ended. "Unfortunately, that's the best song."

Like I said, the audience is welcome to participate along with the movie and props are pretty much a necessity. Two, err, intense dudes moderated the evening and the audience participation. Before the film started they performed a little. Some raucous, raunchy songs mostly, featuring members of the audience (virgins to the whole experience – luckily they picked these people before we arrived – I'm not sure how I would have enjoyed standing in front of dozens of strangers while two guys sang to me about my penis). 

The duo, along with some members of the audience, yelled out the audience lines throughout the film. I didn’t really care for this part of the experience, but to be fair, it wasn't necessarily the guys themselves or the fact that they were yelling. It was that I had no idea what they were saying most of the time. It was all just really, REALLY loud gibberish to me. Maybe if I was more familiar with what they were saying or the process in general. Or maybe if it was just one guy and he had a microphone or something. But the guys had a lot of fun and I can imagine that loud moderators are a staple of the midnight screenings. I digress.

The other big component of the midnight screening is the use of props, and I liked this aspect a lot more. For example, there's a wedding at the beginning of the film, and when the guests throw rice at the newlyweds, people in the audience throw actual rice everywhere. I was still picking it out of my hair the next day. Something that wasn't allowed at our screening was squirt guns. There's a scene featuring driving in the rain, and you're supposed to squirt your water gun all over the place.

At one point, and I'm not sure of the cue, people began throwing rolls of toilet paper. This is when Nick started getting hit in the head a lot. I have to pay him respect, as if he hadn't been sitting next to me, I would have gotten hit instead. Plus, it was pretty hysterical.

During one song where lights are mentioned, people started shining their phones and glow sticks. They even threw the glow sticks around (Nick got hit) and I was able to snag one for myself, although I'm not sure what happened to it. I read on the all-seeing, all-knowing IMDb that lighters were used back in the day instead of artificial lighting – 5 Points didn't allow this, for obvious reasons.

I'll be honest, the film dragged on for a while and I got a little restless. The second half of the film is a blur of Meatloaf, Dr. Frank-N-Furter boning Janet AND Brad (separately), and zaniness in general.

In conclusion, I had a good time but not a great time. The midnight screenings might just be a little too esoteric unless you’re a diehard fan of the film. That being said, some sort of microphone system for the hosts might have made the whole experience more enjoyable. And a helmet for Nick would have been great too.

A Classic Love Story Retold





After waiting very impatiently for more than two months for the latest film version of Jane Eyre to be shown in Jacksonville, I was finally able to see it at 5 Points Theatre last weekend, and it didn’t disappoint. I won’t go into too much detail about the book itself, or the previous film versions, as I’m sure a lot of you are familiar with the story of the intelligent and brave Jane Eyre and her love – the brooding, secretive Edward Rochester. The title character was played by the talented Mia Wasikowska, who was recently in several popular films, including Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland and the award-winning The Kids Are Alright. I had actually never seen her work and I was happy to come in with a clean slate where she was concerned. I must say she played the perfect Jane. Mr. Rochester was played by Michael Fassbender, who is becoming a favorite of mine. For the record, I think he showed an incredible amount of talent in his role in Inglourious Basterds. Also, for the record, I may be a little biased because I think he is as sexy as the day is long. Regardless, I am very excited to see what he’ll do in the future and can’t wait to see him in X-Men First Class. With the sexy, Irish Michael Fassbender and the dreamy, Scottish James McAvoy, I may need medical attention after seeing that one. But, I digress.

The story of Jane Eyre was written by a young Charlotte Bronte in 1847 and, in retrospect, is considered way ahead of its time. Jane is our story’s heroine and her tale is one of sadness, love, redemption and happily-ever-after. But she isn’t beautiful, simpering, or helpless. Our Jane is poor and plain (although the natural beauty of Wasikowska can’t help but shine through). She is a very composed young woman. She has seen enough hardship to last a lifetime before she even reaches her teens. She is incredibly intelligent, introspective and curious about the world. She feels trapped by the bounds placed on her, but she doesn’t let this keep her from living and wanting and dreaming. The movie really breezes through her rough childhood years and, as a result, leaves out some of the specifics from the book. I’m sure some Jane Eyre purists have criticized this, but I was pleased with it. I wanted to see Jane as a woman with fears and desires, overcoming her terrible circumstances to make her way in the world and, eventually, with Mr. Rochester.

The movie doesn’t waste much time getting into the meat of the story – Jane’s acceptance of a position as governess at the beautiful but remote Thornfield Hall, and her introduction to and eventual relationship with its owner, Mr. Rochester. The portrayal of the relationship between the two main characters is superbly done. I was actually surprised to read some complaints about Fassbender as Mr. Rochester. In the book, he is a volatile man, prone to moodswings that border on insanity, and some of that moodiness is probably missing from the movie. However, I personally loved Fassbender’s version. He made me feel all warm and weird and fuzzy inside. The character of Edward Rochester is what is known as a “Byronic hero,” popularly portrayed in many gothic love stories over the years. The term is derived from descriptions of the early-19th century poet Lord Byron, who was once described by a former lover as “mad, bad and dangerous to know.” In other words, completely irresistible to women (such as myself). A Byronic hero is mysterious and brooding enough to set even the toughest gal’s heart all a-flutter. His intentions are always in question. One never knows if he is a good man that is simply misunderstood, or the devil himself. Fassbender plays this role like he was born for it. He does a perfect job of keeping Jane off-kilter, questioning his words and actions at every turn. He is somehow sinister and loving, all at once. But Rochester develops one weakness, and that is Jane Eyre. He is captivated by her – her seemingly stoic composure, her “direct gaze.” He comes to love her so much that he becomes determined to do the impossible and make her his own (if you don’t know why it’s impossible, I won’t spoil it for you. Go read the book or watch the movie).

Fassbender and Wasikowska each played their roles so well they are forever burned into my brain as Edward and Jane. The chemistry between the two of them was perfect. I must also note Jamie Bell’s performance as the strict, but soft-hearted Mr. Rivers and Judi Dench as Mrs. Fairfax. Both roles were played very well. The movie was also very atmospheric and haunting. The scene where Jane first encounters Mr. Rochester in the forest was sufficiently dark and gloomy and creepy and awesome.

I was simply enthralled by Jane Eyre. I fell in love with the story once again. I went to see it with a girlfriend, who had never read the book or seen any of the film versions. She was new to the story of Jane. At around the mid-point of the movie, she leaned over and whispered to me, “this is one of the best movies I’ve seen in a very long time.” Well said.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Hide in the Bathroom: The Deadbeats

On Friday the 13th I was determined to check out a locally made flick called The Deadbeats, shot and playing at 5 Points Theatre in Riverside. Even though Nick and Tiff had other plans, I bought a ticket and ventured to the theatre.

I arrived 20-30 minutes early, but there was already a decent-sized group of people waiting for the movie. As I waited in the lobby for the movie to start, more and more people arrived. As I dodged the members of the growing crowd, I realized that the screening was going to be packed.

I had seen the preview for the film on the 5 Points Theatre website, and I realized that Jeremy Tidwell, one of the actors from the movie, was milling around and talking to people. A lot of the folks present obviously knew him and everyone that talked to him seemed excited.

The theatre finally opened and I found a seat near the back (I had to leave right after the film ended). Some of the film’s cast and crew got up and spoke. Apparently the film has a shot at becoming a full length film through an awards or funding program. The audience was given info on how to help make that happen but I don’t recall the details.

The film revolves around four young friends who resolve to screen a reportedly cursed film at their theatre to keep it from going out of business. During a private screening, however, the four friends find themselves under attack from the monsters from the film, who have come to life.

I didn't understand how all of the friends fit in with the theatre – the girl in the group owned it I think, and Tidwell's character, an engineer or an architect or something, was apparently being forced to remodel it. I'm not sure about the other two guys, though. The girl refers to the theatre as the group’s home a couple of times.

The film itself isn't exactly Oscar-worthy but it wasn’t horrible. The bad stuff is essentially what any independent short film would suffer from. Awkward dialogue. Bad sound work (a scene on the roof of the theatre is particularly hard to understand due to some wind).  I've seen better acting compared to what's on display here but I've seen worse in films with huge budgets featuring celebrities that make way too much money. The main four actors might just not be that comfortable around the camera yet. One of them seemed to be channeling an adult Chunk from The Goonies.

My one huge gripe is – spoiler alert – the ending. Or the lack of one – it ended with a “To Be Continued.” There’s barely anything to the film in terms of length, so when we finally get to a decent spot where the friends are cornered by the monsters, it was a little disappointing to not even see how it ends. I guess all that's due to the filmmakers’ goal of expanding on the film, however.

The good stuff: all those involved obviously really enjoyed what they did and they clearly put a lot of work in to the film. The movie overall wasn't really scary but does feature a genuinely creepy scene with a young (ghost? zombie?) girl briefly terrorizing one of the four friends in a bathroom. I picked up on a little homage to Mystery Science Theater 3000 as well – the quartet are seen from behind as they’re watching and discussing the cursed film.

In conclusion, I think the movie has a lot of heart, obviously due to the time and effort put in from those involved. I’d like to see what these guys could come up with next, whether it's the conclusion to The Deadbeats or something else.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Lake Mungo a Fun-Go???

Lake Mungo is an Austrailian film similar in taste to Paranormal Activity, Quarantine, Cloverfield, (insert handheld camera movie here, and here, and here, and ...) the list goes on and on. I usually enjoy these kind of films (I feel the shakiness of them only adds to the trueness of them) and I honestly can't say that I didn't enjoy this one as well, but it did kind of annoy me also. IMDB describes the movie as a drama, horror, and mystery movie. And they are not wrong. It almost seemed that the director,

Joel Anderson, had three different movies in mind, but the studio wouldn’t spring for all three so he just decided to cram them all into one film. Did it work? Inasmuch as my attention was held the entire time I’d say, yes, but as a drama – no; a horror – no; a mystery – okay, I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt on that one and say, okay. The movie is filmed documentary style, or should I say ‘mockumentary,’ and opens with interviews with young Alice Palmer’s family. Her father, mother and brother all begin to explain the death of Alice (she drowned in a lake while swimming with her brother) and how shocking it was. The brother, Mathew, explains that he last saw her while jumping in simultaneously, but when he came up from the water, she didn’t. June, Alice’s mother, puts on a mortified face throughout the entire interview process, while Russell, the father, keeps a skeptical pose. The body is found not too, too long after the accident and we’re shown the bluntness of what looks a victim of violence and rape. Russell then goes on to explain that only he witnessed the dead body and only he confirmed the identity. June remains in the car the whole time explaining, “I just couldn’t see her like that.” The movie goes on intertwining various interview portions with the family and friends of the family – all telling the camera how wonderful Alice was and how disappointing, nearly unreal, her death was, hence the drama.

And then the interviewer (who we never see, I guess we can assume its Joel) asks Mathew about his photography. We’re briefly told that Mathew has always enjoyed photography and he even set up an annual lawn project in his backyard where he has snapped a photo of the same spot in the backyard every year since moving into the home using the same lens, flash, photography gibberish, etc. Then the interviewer asked, “What was different about the photo on May 28th?” Mathew went on to explain that everything was the same except for one thing captured in the shot – Alice standing in front of a tree. The camera then zooms into the photo and we see exactly what Mathew told us. It was at this point that Claire asked if the movie was real or faked. I didn’t have an answer for her as the description from OnDemand didn’t say yea or nay. Then we’re brought once again back to the skeptical side of things with Russell, the father. Only this time he’s not so skeptical in revealing that “something” made him wander into Alice’s bedroom shortly thereafter and after finding himself, as puzzled as a jigsaw, sitting in her chair, he actually saw her enter the room. He describes to the camera that the figure at first was very stoic, unmoving, but once she, or it, felt his presence in the chair, she turned and attacked.

We’re not given any footage of this encounter, only the story relayed by Russell.
So now we find ourselves in paranormal territory. So much so that even strangers, or friends – it’s never really explained – were convinced of some “being” being captured in one of their photographs while out camping. Like before, the camera zooms in on the photo and we see a figure in the same red sweatshirt as the figure standing in the backyard, Alice, captured in what looks like a “walking by” motion. The story continues revolving around ghosts, beliefs, and even psychics when we’re introduced to Ray Kemeny, or Steve Jodrell as his parents know him, a local psychic who develops a keen interest in the Alice, June, Mathew and the sightings. He is particularly drawn to Mathew and vice versa – oh, did I forget to mention that Mathew set up a camera during the night and found yet another glimpse of a passing shadow? No? Well, he did – and this leads to the filming of a séance in the Palmer’s kitchen. As we watch the séance, and the nothing happening regarding it, the camera zooms (Joel loves this damn tactic) in on a figure reflected in a hallway mirror. It’s Alice. Again.

Pretty creepy, yeah? Yeah, well then the movie takes an odd turn. One that I certainly didn’t see coming less than an hour into it. When June convinces Russell that he made a mistake in identifying his own daughter’s mutilated body (how else would she keep popping up in photos and film?), they decide to dig up Alice’s grave and have a DNA test done. The results come back unpleasing because it is in fact Alice. So what the hell, right? Well, without going into too much detail, let me just say it. Mathew is the culprit for all of the sightings. All of them. Alice in front of the tree – a spliced photo. A passing shadow in the house – Mathew himself. The reflection of Alice in the mirror – an old home movie paused on a scene with a standstill Alice. Told you he liked photography. But what about the campers who saw her in the distance of their photo? Well Mathew also liked to wear his sister’s sweater and did so that day. He explained that the camera caught him walking through the woods in order to avoid the photo being taken in his direction. Only he didn’t count on other campers filming their own joyous outing and therefore catching, in the background, Mathew casually strolling through the outdoors. Okay, thanks Mathew. Dick. This creepy movie just turned into Catfish and I’m cursing myself for choosing to watch it, even though it was free.

Wait though. I’m not done. No, not by a long shot (I remember thinking it seemed a little too short to be considered a legitimate movie). While Mathew goes on a road trip with Ray, the psychic, for whatever plum dumb reason they provide, June begins to review the tapes that Mathew provided. In the shot of the passing shadow inside the house, June notices something in the corner of Alice’s bedroom. Another figure. Only this one is crouched and appearing to be hiding (from what we now know was Mathew). Oooooh, time to bring back the creepy! So there really was a ghost there? Well, not exactly. You see, the Palmers had neighbors and it just so happened June was able to deduce that the crouching shadow was none other than Garret Long (I think that was his name), the neighbor from next door. So now we dive into the mystery of the movie. What was Garret doing there and how did he get in? After some detective work that would make Sherlock Holmes blush, June discovers what Garret had been searching for late at night in Alice’s bedroom. In the fireplace of her room a videotape sealed in a freezer bag is found. Hmm . . . When they watch the tape, they discover young Alice, Garret, and Garret’s wife, Iris, having a threesome at Garret’s house. Now we’re in full blown mystery-mode.

The Palmer’s, on film, seemed unconcerned that their 16-year-old daughter was having threesomes with their neighbors and left it with, “No, he (meaning Garret) didn’t find the tape. And he won’t. I want him to know we know.” That a girl, June. No Cleaver you are, that’s for certain. What was more concerning to them was the fact that Ray, the psychic, had an encounter with Alice about a month before her death. The Palmer’s were devastated at this revelation. Even Mathew was upset. Dick. From Ray’s videotaped sessions, we learn that Alice wasn’t the happiest girl in the world and was often plagued with bad dreams. Bad dreams so real that they couldn’t help but to come true. What do I mean? Well, after finding out the “type” of girl Alice was and the type of activities she involved herself in, the Palmer’s do some more investigating. They reveal some minor details of a school trip that Alice had taken to . . . drumroll . . . Lake Mungo. Apparently Alice lost all of her favorite jewelry and a brand new cell phone while on the trip. June explains she didn’t think much of it, just an irresponsible teenage girl losing expensive things, no big deal. Soon after the sex tape is revealed though, some of Alice’s classmates reveal their own videos of the Lake Mungo trip taken on their cell phones.

What the Palmer’s now notice in one particular shot is Alice burying something. And so they decide to go out to Lake Mungo and look for the buried treasure. Of course they find the exact spot where she was on her knees (this, regardless that the footage was shot with a cell phone at night) and find another freezer bag containing Alice’s cell phone and her jewelry. Duh da daaaaaaah . . .
So why did she bury her stuff and then lie about it? Easy. She was a liar. And a whore. The two usually go hand-in-hand (with all due respect to any whores reading this). The big finale comes when they decide to watch what Alice filmed on her camera. They find that she strayed from the group and wandered into the night alone with only a recording cell phone to guide her. What she comes across after a while of walking is a figure directly in front of her. Did I mention we’re being shown this footage? We can’t make out who the figure is or why he/she is out in the dark all alone, but as it begins to approach Alice (who doesn’t stop her own assent) the image becomes clearer. It’s Alice. Dead Alice. The same corpse that Russell identified as his little girl. Now we’re brought back to Ray Kemeny’s footage of Alice’s session. She tells him that she’s afraid of dying, “Who isn’t?” she asks, and the movie concludes, not abruptly, with the Palmer’s believing that Alice saw her dead self and became freaked out. So she buried her shit, kept her mouth shut and waited for the inevitable.

Are we pleased? Well . . . not really. Of course not. What the hell did we just watch? The movie is supposedly based on true events, but if that is the case, Joel Anderson is a shitty filmmaker. Aside from Alice’s grandparents describing the wrong date of death, we’re shown at one point a shot of Alice sitting on her bed in 2005, just months before her death, and above her head is a poster of The Beatles’ Love. That album didn’t come out until 2006. Sorry, Joel. “No dice, Jim Rice!” This movie may have been based on true events, but I think it’s too easy to use the term “based.” Hell, the characters in the movie are actors. Remember me saying ‘filmed documentary style, or should I say ‘mockumentary’’ – now you get my meaning.

It’s a fun film, I admit, but it’s just too much. Like three plots crammed into one. The sex tape is never mentioned, or shown, a second time. Russell’s encounter with the ghost in the bedroom is never clarified, and the reasoning behind Mathew and Ray’s own lying is never legitimately explained. What about the sex offenders? Well, make your own guess, because we sure weren’t given one. The only closure we’re left with is, “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.” I wouldn’t recommend watching it, but I would recommend reading my review, or letting me describe it to you, because it’s fun to explain.

Troll Too

Three hopeful young filmmakers journey into the woods to investigate a local legend. The trio disappears but their equipment is found, including the shocking footage of what they discovered.

This might sound familiar but it’s actually a film from Norway called The Troll Hunter and, while it shares the plot of 1999’s The Blair Witch Project, it’s a completely different beast.

The plot is by and large the only aspect the two films have in common. While The Blair Witch Project was dark, depressing and spooky (if not terrifying, depending on how old you were when you watched it) The Troll Hunter is visually rich, a little goofy, and often times awe-inspiring. Shot in Western Norway, the film is full of beautiful landscapes and even the forbidding woods are a treat to look at.

To be fair, Troll Hunter isn’t just another film about people getting lost in the woods. As the title implies, it’s all about professional troll hunter Hans and his efforts to hunt and destroy escaped trolls wrecking the Norwegian countryside. Trolls aren’t something we’re asked to suspend our disbelief in very often, and it’s refreshing to see a horror movie that isn’t about vampires or another overused creature.

Speaking of not seeing trolls very often, another film Troll Hunter might inevitably be compared to (or contrasted to) is director Claudio Fragrasso’s disasterpiece, Troll 2. There’s no pissing on hospitality within this newer film, however – someone call Fragasso and tell him that this is how you make a movie about trolls.

In terms of horror, it seems as if writer/director André Øvredal was going for tension more than terror. While Blair Witch petrified audiences with what we couldn’t see, Troll Hunter shows us the Boogeyman up close and personal.

The difference might be due to the taste of the two films’ directors, but it has to have something to do with the evolution of special effects as well. And the topics of the two films undoubtedly made a difference in regards to how much was shown. Even if the witch was glimpsed in Blair Witch Project, it could have just been a woman in a costume. The crew behind Troll Hunter had a much bigger task, and they aced it.

Øvredal is able to show us genuinely realistic-looking creatures thanks to the abilities of modern special effects. If Troll Hunter was made 12 years ago, we might have seen a lot less of the trolls – or they would have looked a lot worse. With today’s special effects, we see trolls as real as they get.

Low budget films with high-quality special effects are being made more and more. 2009’s District 9 comes to mind (another foreign film). It’s amazing what filmmakers can show us these days, and not just the ones whose film’s effects budgets are in the millions of dollars.

The film is also another entry in the increasingly popular genre of found footage. It shares the genre with films such as Blair Witch, more recent films like Paranormal Activity, and the upcoming Apollo 18. I think The Troll Hunter might actually be billed as a “mockumentary” but when I think of that term my mind goes to something like Best in Show. Troll Hunter isn’t supposed to be something that its fictional filmmakers actually made – it’s chilling footage that was found and then assembled into a movie by whomever discovered it.

The cast assembled did a fine job – I especially liked Otto Jespersen, the actor portraying Hans. The man hates his job hunting for trolls and Jespersen injects sadness, fatigue and a little humor into the role. Through Jespersen’s character we learn that the film crew is allowed to document his job because he wants to expose himself and the secret organization that he works for, known as the TSS (Troll Security Service, of course). I think Jespersen underplayed the role. Anything else might not have worked considering the slightly tongue-in-cheek tone of the film.

Øvredal clearly spent a lot of time coming up with the world within this film. The film’s trolls turn to stone or explode when exposed to sunlight (which is apparently in keeping with troll lore). It’s mentioned that trolls are mammals. Different aspects of troll biology are discussed, and Hans lists the different breeds of trolls, ranging from the Ringlefinch to Mountain Kings.

It figures that belief is a major theme of The Troll Hunter. The filmmakers were actually initially following Hans because they thought he was a poacher (the TSS leaves bear carcasses behind to explain the trolls’ destruction to the unsuspecting public), but when he reveals to them that he’s supposedly a troll hunter, they don’t believe him. Shortly after they team up, Hans informs them that if they believe in God or Jesus, they can’t tag along as, trolls can smell the blood of Christians. So we’ve got characters swearing that they’re non believers so they can follow a man who hunts creatures that they also don’t believe in.

In short, being religious is a major job hazard if you’re a troll hunter. You can’t believe in God if you want to believe in trolls. I’m not exactly sure what Øvredal is saying about faith, but the film crew’s cameraman turns out to be religious and things don’t end that well for him. As a side note, I read on Wikipedia that Jespersen, a controversial comedian in Norway, once burned a copy of The Old Testament on his comedy show.

The theme of heroism comes into play during the film as well. The leader of the filmmakers, Thomas, played by Glenn Erland Tosterud, tells Hans he’s a national hero a few times throughout the movie. Hans always denies this. We find out why late in the film, and I’m wondering if his explanation is a metaphor for another big issue.

I have a little problem with some unanswered questions about the ending, which I can’t discuss without spoiling the film. Also, the topic of the environment is briefly mentioned but never really explored (how are trolls affected by global warming anyway?) which maybe seems to tell me that Øvredal wanted to tackle this issue but never really committed to it. Overall, however, the film’s visuals, its quirkiness, and the detail that went into it make it a winner.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Bake a cake with…Super

Super, writer/director James Gunn’s film about a slightly skewed everyman who squeezes into a home-made costume and fights crime, is sadistic. But it’s bizarre and funny and fun.

This is Gunn’s first film since 2006’s Slither, also an over-the-top gory spectacle. While both films are violent and bloody, (it’s clear that Gunn feels most at home when blowing folks’ brains out or letting the blood fly) Super feels like it’s trying to convey more of a message.

Characters in both Super and last year’s Kick-Ass both feature protagonists who choose to become superheroes. The difference with Super is that protagonist/mild-mannered diner cook Frank D’Arbo (played by The Office star Rainn Wilson) has a personal reason for doing so. You see, a baddie named Jacques – played by Kevin Bacon – has re-addicted Frank’s recovering drug-addict wife (Liv Tyler) and, as Frank puts it, “stolen” her.

Both Kick-Ass and Super ask why someone somewhere doesn’t stand up and become a superhero. In Super, Frank is that someone, and the choice he makes – the choice to fight evil, as the film puts it – has consequences. The answer to the question “How horrible would the consequences be?” is what Gunn seems to be exploring here.
Granted, Frank thinks he’s been chosen by God to fight crime as The Crimson Bolt. The film’s most interesting scene shows our hero being restrained by CGI tentacles while his skull is sliced open to allow God’s finger access to his brain – yeah, Super is that bizarre. The film makes it clear that this is in Frank’s head, so to speak. After all, the skull-slicing scene comes after Frank watches some other tentacles do some restraining (for a completely different purpose) on TV.

Religion is a big motif of the film. There are many scenes where Frank watches episodes of a TV show starring The Holy Avenger (played by Nathan Fillion, star of Slither and one of Super’s most enjoyable aspects). It’s this character that appears to Frank before and after the God/tentacle scene as well. Frank prays to God for guidance multiples times throughout the film. Et cetera.

The music in the film stuck out to me. I’m thinking of certain scenes accompanied by a specific, fun melody crafted by Tyler Bates (think of the “digging-the-costume-out-of-the-dumpster scene, people who’ve seen the film), and even the film’s opening credits are complemented by an animated, catchy dance number (again, Super is that bizarre). Details like the music are what make the film great.

The most important aspect of the film is the acting. For me, it’s not the supporting players (but actors like henchman-portraying Michael Rooker and cop-depicting Gregg Henry are great, though, the kind of actors that blend with the world of the film and the other actors and make you sort of forget you’re watching a movie). It’s not Kevin Bacon either, but his portrayal of the drug-dealing, cooking-complimenting bad guy (anyone think the brown eggs really do taste different than the white ones?) is fantastic and sleazy. And it’s not even Rainn Wilson, although he’s really believable as the pathetic Frank and demented Crimson Bolt. Again, like its predecessor Kick-Ass, Super’s high point in terms of acting and characters is the girl sidekick – Ellen Page’s Libby.

Foulmouthed and unhinged, comic shop employee Libby, as Boltie, is the Robin to Frank’s Batman. For me, the biggest shocks and laughs come whenever Page is onscreen. Her performance is pretty daring – I can’t really think of another Academy Award-nominated (or winning) actress that would do the things she does in the film.

The film isn’t perfect – thematically it’s a little muddy and the end of the second act drags a little – but whatever Super is, it’s nonstop and challenging. It might be the most realistic “what-if-someone-tried-to-be-a-superhero” film ever made (remember what I said about consequences) and that counts for something.

An interesting weekend up and down and all-around . . .

Let me start off by expressing my envy towards Tiff and her second viewing of Insidious. I WANT TO WATCH IT. AGAIN. NOW. I really wanted to see the film again, alas I did not, as my hands were full with recently purchased DVD’s and good company. Oh well, such is life. Claire, my partner in more than just crime, and I decided to try our luck and picked up I Love You, Phillip Morris and All Good Things at Wal-Mart. Logic spurred from them being $15.00 a piece and still “new” enough by MovieStop standards to get a decent trade-in value if we decided that the movies weren’t good enough to keep. That being said, both movies are worth keeping if for no other reason than to watch them again. My nights were spent working/writing (less than I intended) on a story unfinished from late 2010 and resulted in a respectable rehashing of the tale I’m intending to tell. Music-wise, the weekend was quiet although I am currently awaiting 3 CDs from Amazon and restocked my collection with Rush’s Moving Pictures album – a classic among my Dungeons ~n~ Dragons nerd friends of yesteryear, ah the memories.

Let’s start with Phillip Morris – because we did – Jim Carrey, you never cease to amaze me with your work. I felt your portrayal of existence within the “gay community” was spot on. Case in point, the line, “A fact that no one ever tells you . . . being gay is expensive,” clearly demonstrates the “realness” of the acting, the characters, and the story (supposedly true and after seeing Carrey’s performance, I can believe it). Carrey begins the movie married (to a woman) and obviously ignoring “something” in his life. The “something” being the fact that he prefers an ass vs. vagina. Narrating throughout, Carrey never leads us to believe otherwise, he just doesn’t let us know right out of the gate. After an auto-accident, though, Carrey’s character decides to not live for anyone else other than himself, declaring at his loudest, “I’M A FAG!” while being put into the back of an ambulance. And he does just that. He quits his job (Police Officer – ironic, maybe), leaves his wife (the always uplifting Leslie Mann), moves to Florida, and adopts – or rather accepts – a gay lifestyle. Here’s where prison, and Phillip Morris, enter the picture. Because being gay “is expensive” and having a real job is no fun (gay, straight, or otherwise), Carrey’s character decides to be a con-man. Obviously not the best con-man in the world (and as is revealed near the end of the film, certainly not the worst), Carrey’s character winds up in jail and meets Ewan MacGregor’s title character. Is it wrong to point out how comfortable Ewan seemed portraying this character? The two end up falling for each other and after a series of in-again, escape out-again stints in the “big house” (for Carrey more so than with MacGregor) the two find themselves face-to-face with a common relationship issue. What one does for the other in the name of love . . . is it worth it? I purposefully didn’t reveal much, but can report, without a doubt, that this is a very funny movie. More in the vein of Wes Anderson funny rather than David Zucker funny (and a startling amount of emotion) made for the movie to standout among the alum’s of 2010. I understand, though notably don’t agree, why it wasn’t more popular (insert gay accusations at will here) and await with minimal patience the next quirky project from the makers of Bad Santa.

Let us move now onto the better of the two films: All Good Things – this one reminded of David Fincher’s Zodiac inasmuch as it is a crime drama based on true events, albeit dealing with far less murders, spanning roughly 30 years. Let me be clear: the entirety of Zodiac spans, what 40 years and this film just about does the same. That kind of time progression is not often used in films, at least the ones I’ve seen/enjoyed, so the rarity struck me as appealing. The performances by Ryan Gosling, Kirsten Dunst, and Frank Langella are stellar and even the shortened screen time of actors Nick Offerman, Kristen Wiig, and Philip Baker Hall impressed me, although admittedly the latter three gave me a nostalgic enjoyment from seeing them outside of their TV roles. The former three were perfectly cast and, as always, gave convincing portrayals of the twisted family they were supposed to be. I was captivated from beginning to end watching Gosling slowly turn more and more mad. Let me go ahead and admit though that one of the main reasons I wanted to see this film is because of Kirstin Dunst’s nude scene (I’ve been waiting patiently) and even though I pretty much missed the briefness of it (thanks, Claire), I still enjoyed the movie as a whole. I hesitate to reveal any more details about the film, or scene, as I will certainly need a second viewing for firmer details – no pun intended. My second main reason for thoroughly enjoying the film lies in the fact that it’s a mystery and the killer isn’t fully revealed until the end. I can’t say how many movies I’ve seen where we’re forced to witness the killer with his/her face revealed by the middle of the film. I don’t want to know, Hollywood! Make me guess, right or wrong – I could care less, but don’t make me watch two hours of Gary Sinise holding Mel Gibson’s son for ransom. It's boring. That movie could have been so much better if we were made to guess. The suspense just isn’t there when we know who the bad guy is . . . and I’ll leave this open for you to prove me wrong. Of course, anyone can read the description and tell that Ryan Gosling’s character is most likely the bad guy, but then again, anyone could be wrong too. All in all, the movie was full of good things, not just two, but let’s hope Melancholia gives us a little more of Kirsten nude – what can I say? I love the female body and Kirsten is curved damn near perfect! Though now I can't help but to wonder how Gosling would look as a nude woman?

Monday, May 16, 2011

I am tongue-tied and dizzy and I can't keep it to myself

What can I say about Fleet Foxes' sophomore effort that the real critics out there haven't already? I found it exhilarating to say the least. I've been anticipating this album ever since I gave their first a serious listen. Nearly three years later my wish has been granted. What I hoped for I won't divulge in lieu of boring the shit out of everyone, including myself, so let me just say this: a remarkable album. For those of us out there who divert ourselves away from piddly-tiddly shits like what we'll have for lunch today, this album represents the question in its truest state. Harmoniously, earthy, and genuine are too familiar verbs for such an album. Stand down Foo Fighters, Fleet Foxes have taken your letter and your place as far as the best of 2011 is concerned. Robin Pecknold (sp?) out did himself on the creation of this album; I know because I read about it. The title track itself represents the epitome of the album. What's my name/What's my station are just a couple of lyrical examples of what this album is all about. The question. Or questions, should I say? Who am I? Why am I? What will I? Trust me, listen and you will understand. The maturity of Robin's songwriting is prevalent and it has to be (he worked so fluently on it), I can see, after giving the album more than a couple of listens from start to finish, what the lead singer was aiming for. I read in Uncut magazine that after the supposed first completion of the album, Robin described the sound as "where we were, not where we want to be." Needless to say, the six members delivered. And they delivered a masterpiece. I suppose I'm being a little bias, but you'll have to forgive me, I'm on board with this New Folk genre and the Foxes have led the way. Despite the fact that I've grown into a city-boy, I can't help but to take in the nostalgic pleasure of hearing the earthy-ness that the Foxes provide. From start to finish, the album puts you on a wave of a question for nearly an hour and never lets up. Yeah, but does it answer? you may ask. Well, that depends on you of course. The maturity of the songwriting and the interchanging compositions certainly spoke to me, but then again I tend to think outside of the box. At nearly 30, I still can only guess as to who I will become. Fortunately for me, this album leads the way. Or at least plays a distinctive role. Admittedly the first listen didn't do a whole lot for me, but then againt the best albums never do. It takes a dedication to receive the kind of message that Robin and his mates stand to deliver and those of us out there; we know who we are, message received. I cannot wait to hear the next installment of this bands genius tenure, but I'm willing to patient. The three years I waited for Helplessness Blues was worth it. The title track alone fulfilled what I needed for this day and age and for that, I say 'thank you' Foxes. Take as long as you need. We'll be here.

Arcade Fire Sings to my Soul



Starting with Funeral, their highly acclaimed debut album in 2004, Arcade Fire produced a sound that is all at once complex, heart-wrenching, sobering and beautiful. Funeral will forever be one of my favorite albums. For me, it captured the beauty, innocence, fear and frustration that every child feels growing up in a world where it seems that all dreams are possible, yet none are readily achievable. This is all summed up in the descriptions of the pastoral “neighborhood” frequently referenced in the album. Each time I listen to it, I discover something new – either about the band, the songs, or myself. Their second album Neon Bible received just as much praise as the first, pleasing fans and critics alike. Neon Bible delved into issues surrounding our fast paced world, and how we are bombarded on a daily basis with topics like religion, politics, societal norms and expectations, and the feelings and anxieties those topics bring about in each of us.

Last August, Arcade Fire released their highly anticipated third album, The Suburbs, and it is simply a work of art. Much like the first album, it comprises some of the most heartfelt and sincere music I have ever heard. But where Funeral possessed a raw innocence, The Suburbs is all-knowing – it has been through the child-like wonder and experienced the act of going out to discover the world. It has been there and back. And while meandering through the bland, seemingly innocuous suburbs and the “sprawl” that surrounds them, we learn that none of this world is what it seems. The walls that close us in as children can eventually suffocate us. The “safe,” gated communities and neighborhoods, and the people in them, may eventually hurt us as much as the dangerous outside world. Eventually, we grow up. We change. Sometimes, everyone else changes, while we stay the same. But the experience – how we learn and how we grow – is worth it, as is so poignantly stated in The Suburbs Continued, which wraps up the album – “if I could have it back…all the time that we wasted…I’d only waste it again. You know I would love to waste it again.”

Arcade Fire has spent recent months on tour in North America to promote The Suburbs, and I was lucky enough to see their April 28th show, held at the beautiful Orpheum Theatre in downtown Memphis.

“My mind is open wide, and now I’m ready to start.”

The show kicked off with Ready to Start, an obvious choice that really got the crowd going. They then performed Keep the Car Running, a fan favorite from Neon Bible. From there, Régine Chassagne, whose family emigrated from Haiti to Canada during the deadly reign of Jean-Claude Duvalier, sang her anthem to her home county. I’ve heard Haiti numerous times and always liked it, but once I heard her sing it live, heard the emotion in her voice as she cried out for her wounded mother country and sang of “unmarked graves where flowers grow,” I really began to love it. It’s awesome when that happens – when a song is essentially rediscovered. It actually happened again during the performance of the next song, Rococo, which has a slow, creepy build-up that I simply can’t get enough of. From there, it was Empty Room, which I was surprised to see. I like the song and the performance was great, but I wouldn’t have imagined it would make the cut for the live show. At the end of that song, Win Butler took a moment to thank the crowd for coming out and reminded everyone that $1 from every ticket purchased would be donated to Partners in Health, a Haiti-based organization the band is very supportive of and involved with. After then singing a brief tribute song to recently-deceased Memphis musician Jay Reatard, the band launched into Intervention. The image of Win Butler singing it on the overhead screen – just the shadow of him – was haunting and amazing.

After that came my absolute favorite moment of the show, their performance of the title track, The Suburbs. This is the first song I ever heard from the album and its beautiful – somehow filled with both joyous optimism and gut-wrenching sadness, all at once. It’s about being young, and every hope and frustration that comes along with it, no matter where you grew up. It brings about in me a sense of desperation to feel something, and to be somewhere, anywhere else – that craving for a life-changing experience that seems impossible to attain. However, the other side of the coin is also revealed in The Suburbs – the disappointment that comes along with those feelings and changes, when the result is not what we thought it would be. And we can all relate to the emotions felt when the world is changing, but we want everything to stay the same.

I joked prior to the show about how a charge would take hold during my favorite moment of the song, during that last, heart-rending part of The Suburbs, when the song is fading and the sound of the violins is chilling. At that moment, Win Butler delivers the haunting last lyric…stretching the final note out – “In my dreams we’re still screaming and running through the yard. We’re still screamiiiiiiiiiiing....” The song was followed by the devastatingly beautiful The Suburbs Continued. The charge took hold. It was truly the most emotional moment I have ever felt at a concert and is exactly why I love seeing my favorite bands perform live.

The show picked up again from there, with an energetic performance of the kick-ass Month of May. Then came a good half-hour of complete freaking awesomeness, with Neighborhood #2 (Laika), No Cars Go, Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels), We Used to Wait, Neighborhood #3 (Power Out) and finally, the last song of the show, Rebellion (Lies). I love all of the Neighborhood songs very much. I find #1 so incredibly heartfelt and hopeful. I love the thought of two people escaping to where no one else is around, letting their hair grow long and forgetting all they used to know. The performance of the last song, Rebellion (Lies) was thrilling. Will Butler (Win’s brother) beat a handheld drum during the song and was so energized that even after his drumstick broke, he used his hand until his fingers were bloody. It was amazing.

After that, the band left the stage and came back after a very brief moment for a two-song encore. The first was the fan favorite and song the band is best known for, Wake Up. I wish I could adequately express how it felt for the whole theatre to sing that song in unison. It gave me chills and brought tears to my eyes. Anyone unmoved by that moment simply did not have a heart. Régine Chassagne’s performance of the second encore song, Sprawl II, was the perfect ending for the night. I was amazed by her talent, her energy and how awesome she looked up on that stage. She sang beautifully, danced around like a joyous young girl and reminded me of a perfect little doll. Now I want to be her when I grow up.

I give Arcade Fire’s live show a solid 10 out of 10. It was hands-down the best concert I’ve ever seen and I loved how unpretentious the band was. They didn’t waste any time coming out to perform. They were just as energetic as their fans and they sang every song like it was the first show of the tour. They had probably the shortest wait for an encore I’ve ever seen. It was obvious that they were humbled by the support and just happy to be there performing. I felt like such a kid at the show. It’s truly the first time since I was about 12 years old that I watched a show and wanted to be in the band.

Arcade Fire has a unique ability to sum up the complexities of the human experience – the joy, the fear, the frustration and the adventure of life. They nourished my soul and melted me down into a pool of love, sadness, desire, despair, and every other emotion. The power may be out in the heart of man, as is so eloquently stated in Neighborhood #3 (Power Out), but it certainly was not out in that theatre.

Trash Someone's Pool With...Hesher

Hesher director Spencer Susser was definitely present the day they discussed metaphor in film class.  The story of a father and son who get a very unique houseguest while grieving over a recent loss, Hesher waxes metaphorical the whole time.

This isn't a bad thing. Metaphors for loss, grief, resilience, and moving on (and ultimately always holding on to a little bit of what you've lost) pepper the movie’s story and never overpower the rest of the film.

Paul Forney (Rainn Wilson) and T.J. (Devin Brochu) have just lost their wife and mother, respectively. Lost, angry, and grieving, the two are faced with a visitor in the form of Hesher (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a long-haired, tattooed hobo-with-a-heart-of-gold. T.J. runs afoul of Hesher while taking a shortcut through a construction site – and the unfinished building where homeless Hesher is secretly living. T.J. inadvertently exposes the bum, who flees from a security guard.  After a day or so of mildly tormenting T.J., Hesher – claiming to Mr. Forney that he’s a friend of his son – forcibly moves into his garage.

Rainn Wilson continues to impress, and the rest of the cast was great, especially Brochu, who portrays a coming-of-age and grief-stricken boy with ease, and Natalie Portman, who plays a soul-sick grocery store clerk that befriends T.J. and Hesher. It's really all about Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Hesher, of course. He spends most of the film wreaking havoc, destroying property, and being foul-mouthed and disgusting and, with a lesser actor, the character wouldn't have worked.

Piper Laurie, as T.J.’s Grandmother Madeleine, was an unexpectedly powerful component of the film. She exemplifies what it feels like to be powerless while others experience deep grief. The scenes shared between Hesher and sad and slightly senile Madeleine are strangely poignant – Susser, Gordon-Levitt, and Laurie manage to make interactions between the film’s two most mismatched characters the most resonant. Also, you’ll probably want to call your own grandma after watching the film.

I wondered more than once if Hesher was really some sort of split personality of T.J.’s. Hesher seems to appear out of nowhere occasionally, and sometimes other people don’t even notice him. Combine this with a scene where a high school teacher lectures T.J. and other students about a protagonist facing dreams and nightmares, (plus all the metaphors) and the film almost feels like a fantasy. The aesthetic of the film is also decidedly retro. Old TV sets, clothing, and decorations populate the film and add to its dreamy quality.

Ultimately, the moral that Susser is trying to get across comes through T.J. and his father. Life isn’t about what you’ve lost, the film says, it’s about what you still have. Hesher himself uses a personal (a very personal) story to get this point across to the father and son (even the film’s titular character is great at metaphors – it’s not even the only one he uses in the film).

The writing, characters, and Gordon-Levitt’s performance make Hesher a complex and interesting film. Check it out if you get the chance – I wouldn’t be surprised if Hesher pops up again in the future.

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