With Mad Max: Fury Road recently out on DVD and being re-released in IMAX, I thought now would be a good time to break my (too long) hiatus and give my views on one of the best movies to come out this year.
When Mad Max hit the screens in 1979, 1980 in North America, it introduced the world to Max Rockatansky, an Australian highway patrolman who has an unfortunate run-in with an insane motorcycle gang. And while the movie doesn’t quite immediately establish the desert hellscape dystopia we grow familiar with in Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior, and Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, we are shown that Max is a man of action, kicking ass and taking names in the name of justice. But after the events of the first film,we see a different Max. Yes, he is still the tough guy we all fell in love with, but his motivations are more survivalist than linked to justice; as the oft-quoted line (one of his sixteen) from Mad Max 2 goes: “I just came for the gasoline.” Justice, though, seemed to be an after-effect, rather than the chief reason, of his actions.
Director George Miller took a thirty year hiatus from the Mad Max series. In the meantime, he directed such other dystopian classics such as Babe and Happy Feet. After attempting to get the project back-up and running in 2003, with Mel Gibson back as the titular character, he finally returned to post-apocalyptic Australia with Tom Hardy taking the lead role. While the movie is called Mad Max: Fury Road, Max is the lead character in name only. The majority of the story focuses on Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) and her quest to escape the clutches of evil patriarch Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne, ‘Toecutter’ from the first Mad Max), taking his wives to “The Green Place.”
Gerard Butler…er… Tom Hardy as Mad Max Photo from youtube
Max makes very clear from the onset that his only purpose now is to live by any means necessary: “I am the one that runs both from the living and the dead. Hunted by scavengers, haunted by those I could not protect. So I exist in this wasteland, reduced to one instinct: survive.” So when he is kidnapped by Immortan Joe’s flunkies, strung up and bled as an unwilling donor, it is no surprise that he opts to hijack, and eventually team with, Furiosa’s war rig and her band of rebelling women.
Furiosa, kidnapped from the Vuvlini (a tribe of powerful women who reside in ‘The Green Place’), is not only one of Joe’s favourites, but is also the best warrior of his gang. She is an adept driver, a skilled shooter, and determined. Most importantly, she is aware of the plight of those living in the Citadel and seeks to disrupt the system. She does so by whisking away “his wives.” With the exception of Cheedo the Fragile (initially at least), the wives see the issue with the system under Immortan Joe and are as perceptive as Furiosa in this regard. Miller wrote these characters to not be stereotypes. It is also no surprise that he sought the help of Vagina Monologues author Eve Ensler to draw out the motivations of characters and to consult on feminism and women’s issues brought up in the film.
Hugh Keays-Byrne as Immortan Joe Picture from The Nerdist
The film has been widely praised for not only its strong female characters, but also for Max’s attitude towards them. For instance, when he is attempting to use a rifle against Immortan Joe’s oncoming horde, he defers to Furiosa who clearly has a better shot and get the job done (add to this the fact that Max even used as a stand to steady the rifle). When Furiosa and her band reach “the Green Place” and decide to move further away from the Citadel, Max suggests that turn around and take back the Citadel. The tone of this scene is clearly not meant as “burly man needs to take charge;” rather, he makes a suggestion, implying that far greater things await them if they take on Immortan Joe and seize control of the Citadel from the maniacal patriarch.
Equally as interesting as the movie itself is the criticism surrounding Fury Road. Some, such as the folks at InfoWars, denounce the movie as a means to “dupe guys into watching feminist propaganda.” On the other hand, such as The Feminist Frequency, say that it is not a feminist film because the patriarchy represented is “cartoonish” and thus not to be taken seriously (as well as other factors such as women being “reduced to breeders” and the ladies looking “ready for the catwalk”).
Eve Ensler isn’t good enough for you? Really? Picture from The AVClub
These criticisms,however, seem almost ignorant of the Sci-Fi/Fantasy genre. The best sci-fi films, and television shows for that matter, are ones that broke new ground, raised a mirror to society, or made a statement. Alien, for instance, features a strong female heroine (Ripley played famously by Sigourney Weaver) who kicks alien ass. Star Trek broke ground when it featured the first interracial kiss on television. More recently, District 9 refreshed the memory of the Apartheid in South Africa for a different generation.
To say that you are being tricked into watching a feminist tract or to say that a movie is not feminist enough because something is too over-the-top indicates an inherent cynicism in today’s criticism. Something is either too much or not enough. It is more so an indication of the reviewer’s bitterness towards the industry rather than looking for actual deficiencies. In a previous post, I’ve talked about how largely white and masculine the Oscars are and it is no stretch to say that Hollywood is the same way. Some critics point out a lack of intersectionality in the film, which is true and valid. But that is more indicative of the film industry as a whole rather than the film itself. The film industry won’t change overnight, but it is changing and it is changing for the better. Mad Max: Fury Road is a step in the right direction. It is an ideal blend of mainstream action, subversion of the genre, and boundary-pushing sci-fi/fantasy. It is both kick ass and smart. And if that’s not your cup of tea, well I think there’s a Michael Bay movie coming out next year.
…and it has this guy. Come on… Photo from filmschoolrejects
This week I look at two documentaries that aired on HBO recently. One looks at a miscarriage of justice, the other a Miscavige of justice.
The Jinx: The Life and Deaths of Robert Durst
With Serial due out with a second season sometime in the late summer/early fall, fans of true crime tales will have to find some other way to get their fix. To tide them over, there is Andrew Jarecki’s six-part miniseries The Jinx: The Life and Deaths of Robert Durst, that focuses on an eccentric millionaire and a series of twisted coincidences that seem to follow him, namely the deaths of three people.
Robert Durst, not to be confused with the lead singer of Limp Bizkit (which, apparently, is still a thing), is an eccentric millionaire, coming from a family that gained their fortunes from high-end real estate. Durst gained notoriety in the early 1980’s after his wife, Kathie, disappeared under suspicious circumstances, in 2000 when his friend Susan Berman was killed in a mob-style execution, and in 2001 when his neighbour, Morris Black, was found dismembered in Galveston. He was tried for Black’s murder, but it was ultimately ruled as “self-defence,” even with the grotesque dismemberment afterwards. This eccentric and strange series of coincidences, along with the trial regarding Black’s death, that caught the interest of documentarian Andrew Jarecki.
Jarecki previous gained fame from his Oscar-nominated documentary Capturing the Friedmans, a documentary that started out about clowns and turned into a film that focused on the subject’s brother and father who were investigated on child molestation charges. He also directed the feature film All Good Things, which was inspired by the disappearance of his first wife. In order to research the film, Jarecki attempted to get in contact with Durst and his extended family and was repeatedly turned down. After it came out, All Good Things caught the attention of Durst, who told Jarecki that he admired the film, and agreed to be taped for an interview. This was a rare opportunity for Jarecki, who finally had his chance to get perspective on Durst’s upbringing and on the unfortunate events that seem to plague him.
The opening episode of the series starts off immediately with the grotesque; a cop on patrol finds dismembered body parts washed up on the shore of Galveston Bay. It sounds like the beginning of a hard-boiled detective novel, or a twisted film-noir movie. And it only spirals downward from there. The investigation leads to a house in Galveston where two people have rented basement apartments; Morris Black, a cantankerous older man, and a deaf-mute middle-aged woman.
This deaf-mute woman, as it turns out, is Robert Durst. Shortly after the remains are discovered, Durst is arrested after trying to steal a sandwich from a Wegman’s.
Jarecki takes his time; he carefully established how strange and how deep this man is. We don’t actually see any of the interview with Durst until the second episode’ but by this time, Jarecki has painted a Picasso-esque portrait of Durst. And it up to the viewer to try and make heads or tails of these events.
Like Serial, though, Jarecki pieces things together carefully. While the result is different, the process just as exciting. In Serial, Sarah Koenig and her team fully acknowledge they are unsure where this will take them, and the week-by-week airings provided some opportunity for listener participation (which brought about some intriguing twists in the story). For Jarecki, this has been an interest for him for over a decade and getting to talk to Durst is a great opportunity to get some perspective on the disappearances and to poke holes in Durst’s version of the events.
Those holes quickly become leaks.
We are shown how his alibi for the Berman death is flimsy. He had ample time to fly out to California, kill Berman and be back in New York. His in-laws noted his temper and peculiar nature. Even his own brother put out a restraining order on him citing that he was “scared” of what Durst could do.
As the evidence mounts, Durst deflects like a goalie in a gold medal game. When Jarecki shows Durst a letter that was mailed to the “Beverley Hills”(sic) police department alerting them to a corpse (Berman) and the address, Durst notes that it was written by someone clearly trying to cover up their identity by using all block letters and purposely misspelling “Beverly.”
And Durst little to help his own cause. Part way through the first interview, he is rehearsing a response while wearing a mic. His attorney alerts Durst that he is wearing a “hot mic,” but, to the viewer, it is awfully suspicious. And how can a man who has dodged murder charges be so aloof as to not know whether or not his mic is on?
It is certainly not senility. Nor is it not a lack of awareness that he is under the microscope for these crimes he allegedly committed.
All this, though, falls apart when these observances and slips come back to haunt him in the terrific finale, which depicts Jarecki acquiring some damning evidence and attempting to get a hold of Durst for a second interview.
After much haranguing and waiting for Durst to get back from his “trips,” Jarecki finally gets him to sit down for an interview and confronts him with evidence: A letter addressed to Susan Berman written in block lettering with “Beverley” spelled like the letter the BHPD received, handwritten by Durst.
Jarecki hired a “forensic document examiner” to compare the letter Durst wrote to Berman and the letter alerting the Beverly Hills police to Berman’s body and confirmed that it likely came from the same person. Jarecki shows Durst the two letters. After denying he didn’t send the letter, he admits that he can’t tell the difference between the writing on both letters.
You would think the investigation would end there. But the viewers are treated to one last bombshell.
Once the interview is over, Durst heads to the bathroom talking to himself. Once again, he seems unaware that the mic from the interview is still on. While in there Durst rambles on about what just happened and ultimately says “What the hell did I do? Killed them all of course.”
Cut to black. Roll credits. Jarecki might as well start writing his Emmy speech.
It’s no surprise that one day before the airing of the final episode, Durst was arrested.
After the final episode aired, Bill Maher smugly boasted that HBO, the network that employs Maher, had caught a killer. I would argue that this claim is only partly true. Jarecki did and his team did all of the leg-work in terms of research and reaching out to those close to Kathie, Berman, and Durst. And they ultimately recorded the crucial confession. But in many ways, Durst caught himself. These little mistakes with misspelling and the mics almost make it seem like he wanted to be caught. Especially after he had basically evaded justice or threw money at whatever problems came at him legally.
In the final episode, Jarecki called Durst “a smart motherfucker,” and he certainly is wily. But I wouldn’t go far to say that he is a criminal mastermind. I fully realize that hindsight is 20/20; however, Durst doesn’t do much to clear his name and his eccentric behaviour only makes him look more suspicious. These eccentricities and the strangeness behind the character his part of the draw and Jarecki does a wonderful job diving deep into Durst’s mind, not flinching at what he comes across.
It is completely cliché to say that often the truth is stranger than fiction. In the case of The Jinx, though, it has rarely been more appropriate description for this enthralling and bizarre tale would make the most hard-boiled detective writer red with jealousy.
Scientology is one of those things that many people have heard of and that some people know about in vague details. There have been many attempts to try to throw open the curtain and reveal the true inner-workings of this so-called religion with varying degrees of success. The latest attempt by documentarian Alex Gibney is Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief. The revelations of the film give last year’s The Babadook a run for its money in terms of chills and horror.
Based on Lawrence Wright’s book of a similar title, Gibney goes head first into the world of Scientology from its founding by science-fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard up until today. He tracks down and interviews former members of the church from members such as actor Jason Beghe and writer/director Paul Haggis, to people who were right near the top of the organization such as former spokesman Mike Rinder, and the former right-hand man of church head David Miscavige, Mark Rathbun.
The film opens with a Miscavige addressing a congregation in a “church” that puts most of these super-churches to shame. Lavish gold decorations. Miscavige almost looks like he is standing in front of a green-screen. He is wearing a tuxedo, like he is hosting an awards show or something.
That, in a nutshell, is at the heart of Gibney’s thesis. Scientology is all about money, power, and doing whatever it takes to have both.
Courtesy: The New York Times
We are given an overview of L. Ron Hubbard’s life and we are clearly given the image of a huckster. A snake oil salesman. Someone with a real gift for gab. Say what will about Hubbard, he had one amazing imagination (how else could you make Battlefield Earth 1000+ pages?) and charm. You can also see why Paul Thomas Anderson picked the late Philip Seymour Hoffman to star as Hubbard-surrogate Lancaster Dodd in The Master. There is a real resemblance there, and Hoffman really conveys Hubbard’s charm, his thin-skin when it came to criticism, and the under lying lasciviousness in his motives.
Hubbard also had confidence, perhaps too much of it. With his failings as a naval officer, and with Dianetics coming and going as a fad, Hubbard had to come up with another way to make money. He often attributed with the quote “if you really want to make money, start your own religion.” And that partly explains the creation of Scientology; the other half has to do with image and personality, and having the power to influence others.
Gibney presents us with a few stories of how people got into Scientology. The tales that Haggis, Beghe, ‘Spanky’ Taylor, Hana Eltringham Whitfield, and others all seem to have the common thread being introduced to it at a vulnerable time in their lives, either when they were down on their luck and looking for a break or when they were at a point in their lives where they had little direction. For them, Scientology was the light to guide them through these troubled times. And often, they experienced results. They started getting roles in films; they felt like they had a purpose in life; they felt happy.
But Gibney is quick to reveal this as a false hope and that the only real way you can get anywhere in Scientology is if you have money and the connections, like Miscavige.
When L. Ron Hubbard “ascended” in 1986 from a stroke, David Miscavige, one of Hubbard’s advisors, was quick to swoop in and anoint himself as leader of the church. Having been part of the church since he was young, Miscavige would shadow Hubbard, who took him under his wing. And like Hubbard, Miscavige also had a way with words and strong personality. After all the brown-nosing, he sought to validate himself as the next one. The one to lead Scientology into a golden age of prosperity.
One way he did this was through taking a page out of Hubbard’s book (literally) and attack anyone who criticised himself or the Scientology movement in any way you could. Nothing was off the table. For example, Gibney had to use burner phones in order to evade the harassing phone calls he received while making this documentary. Websites have been made about those who participated in their documentary that defame character.
But these high school cyber-bullying tactics are only the surface.
The Scientology Celebrity Centre in California
John Travolta’s liaison, “Spanky” Taylor once had to go in for “rehabilitation” and was subjected, she claims to horrendous treatment, such as sleeping on damp mattresses, eating food scraps as meals, and seeing her young child being neglected. Taylor claims that she told Travolta about this and he told her that she needed to get out of there. While Travolta denies this meeting took place, this alleged meeting was apparently motivation enough for Taylor to leave the church.
Along with this horrendous tale are also allegations of abuse and violence in the Scientology compound known as “the Hole,” where high members of the Church are sent if they are thought to be “a suppressive person” (someone who is viewed as a hindrance to the movement). It is also alleged in the film that they use some members as cheap labour (after all, some sign a “billion year contract” when they join the Sea Org wing of the Church). One such member who seems to benefit from this labour is Tom Cruise, who had his house customized by the Church of Scientology, was given lavish parties, and even got one of their own members to be his girlfriend for a time after Cruise’s divorce from Katie Holmes.
Gibney paints Scientology’s two most famous members in very different lights. On the one hand, you have Tom Cruise who comes across as Scientology’s golden boy; the one who is a model representative for the movement and true advocate around the world for the cause. One Scientology clip shown in the documentary claims that Cruise has exposed Scientology to over one billion people worldwide. Exposed; like some sort of virus.
And then there is John Travolta, who Gibney frames as someone trapped in Scientology and is afraid of getting out for fear of what might happen to his reputation. The film claims that there are files that the Church of Scientology keeps on its members, such as Travolta, that they hold over them should they ever break from the Church. Much of this information is acquired during the “auditing” process which is meant to clear a person of influence from engrams (past memories). Notes from these auditing processes, which can contain a person’s darkest secrets, are kept in storage. Apparently, according to the film, whatever Scientology has on Travolta, it is enough to scare him into staying with the Church.
But probably just as frightening as these practices, or even perhaps more so, is Miscavige himself. The film portrays not only as the brown-nosing, power-hungry leader of the Church, but also as an abusive tyrant; someone so paranoid and so thick-skinned that anybody who thinks something bad about Scientology or of his character should be punished using any and all means. The man is so manipulative, that he, as the film seems to assert, and his team bullied the IRS into granting them status as a religion, thus being afforded the privilege of not paying taxes. Gibney belongs right alongside Jennifer Kent, HR Giger, and Wes Craven, terms of creating and depicting frightening characters in cinema.
Seriously, this dude gives me the willies.
For all its frightening qualities, bullying tactics, abuse, and torturous conditions alleged in the film, it is difficult to remember that these allegations are coming from former members of Scientology, some of whom worked right beside Miscavige and helped him create an image for not just himself but for the Church as well (the “We Stand Tall” video is both a hilarious, easily mocked piece of music, and strangely scary piece of propaganda…with really bad production quality). It can be argued (and it has been from the Church) that these allegations are unsubstantiated. And were it one or two people making these claims, scepticism would be bound to creep in. But not only is the sheer volume of corroborators particularly hurtful to the Church, it is the way Scientology has responded to the film that is very telling.
As L. Ron Hubbard wrote regarding the “ethics” of Scientology, if someone is perceived as an enemy of the Church, in that they criticize the Church or do harm to its reputation, they are considered “fair game.” When someone is “fair game,” members of the Church are allowed to carry out whatever punishment harassment they see fit. In the case of Gibney and those associated with Going Clear, this means harassment, stalking, and litigation against HBO. As for the former members of Scientology, they have taken the high-road of creating websites that refute the claims that Rathbun and others made by attacking their character (you can see such examples here: http://www.freedommag.org/hbo/white-papers/spanky-taylor.html) instead of, say, becoming a more transparent organization or at least placating by saying they are “looking into” the allegations.
Though Scientology has been in damage control since the airing of the documentary at Sundance in January, like by creating a Twitter account (here: https://twitter.com/scientology), it is difficult to shake such damning images like the ones presented in Going Clear. Gibney has crafted an affecting and harsh documentary that would make seasoned horror fans sweat, and keep the average viewer fear the Miscavige under the bed.
It’s been awhile, folks. But I am trying to get back into the routine of doing this on the regular. Anywho, be on the lookout for posts coming down the pipeline a little more frequently.
Andy Weir’s The Martian was marketed as a Robinson Crusoe in space; an epic survival story wherein astronaut Mark Watney has to battle against the odds and harsh Martian elements to give himself a chance of surviving. It has all makings of a classic adventure story in the vein of the 18th Century adventure novels and survival stories mixed in with a bit of Apollo 13, with all the dire situations, and serious situations that captivate the reader.
But all that seriousness is immediately undercut in the first line when Watney declares “I’m pretty much fucked.”
It is this sense of humour that strings the novel together, along with relatable technological explanations and intriguing characters, that makes The Martian a truly great novel.
It is made abundantly clear from the get-go that Watney is not your average (if such a term could be used) astronaut. He is a mechanic; he is a botanist; he is a navigator; he is the IT help; he excels at math. Basically, he is equipped with more than enough knowledge to extend his stay on the Red Planet until the next Mars landing is planned, in four years. Luckily for Watney, he has poop and potatoes to help him extend his ration supplies.
The novel, though, is rooted in technical jargon. The complex machinery of many of his tools and life support systems keeping him alive is obviously beyond the average reader. But Weir has explain these systems in such a way that is accessible to the reader without hitting the point of condescension, thanks in part to Watney’s unflappable goofiness. There is a warmth and realness to Watney’s character as takes delight in knocking his crewmates taste in music (disco, ABBA, the like), and television shows (watching re-runs of old 1970s sitcoms). But while the reader is engaged in the dramedy that is Watney’s survival on Mars, they are also fed, incrementally at first, the drama playing out on Earth as NASA tries to save him.
The team at NASA that keeps track of Watney is, to use a cliché, a motley crew of caricatures. Venkat Kapoor is the restless, overworked director of the mission. Annie Montrose is the Malcolm-Tucker-esque media-relations coordinator. Teddy Daniels and Mitch Henderson highlight the tension between bureaucracy and practicality. And a slew of other minor supporting roles fill-in this mosaic of characters Weir develops.
If there is a flaw in Weir’s writing, it is that characters are easily introduced and just as easily ignored. Rich Purnell, for instance, is depicted as a socially-awkward wunderkind who develops the “Purnell Manoeuvre” that could save Watney. And yet, despite introducing such key plot point, Purnell basically drops from the book once he introduces the idea. The same could be said for Mindy Park, the person in charge of monitoring Watney, who seems to only pop in when it is convenient.
The Martian, however, draws its strength from the well-developed central character of Watney and its thrilling plot. Andy Weir’s background as a computer programmer, who has worked in national laboratories and for companies such as Blizzard, is clear; he has worked out in great detail the realism of the important plot points, the materials and science behind the equipment, and has mathematically calculated the distance and time required for each journey in a realistic manner.
Sure, the novel does require some element of a suspension of disbelief on the part of the reader; I mean, how many times can so many things go wrong to one person without killing them? The sheer amount of luck and knowledge Watney has could only take him so far.
But it’s these strokes of luck, both good and bad, and ingenuity that draw the reader in and keep them engaged throughout the novel. Watney, through absurdly smart and gifted, comes across as a regular dude and it is interesting to see what he does when he is pushed to the limit; and he usually has some sarcastic or ironic comment to go along with it.
What The Martian brings to the table is humour in a situation that doesn’t call for it; a man stranded alone left to battle against the elements. It plays out like a movie (which is due out in November of this year being directed by Ridley Scott), but remains smart and strives for technical accuracy. It keeps the reader enthralled by using one of Kurt Vonnegut’s rules for writing a short story: “Be a Sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of.” The result is one of those rare sci-fi novels that transcends the genre by absorbing those readers who dare to dive in and rewarding them lavishly.
January and February have brought a surprising amount of quality music, and a quartet out of Calgary already is an early contender for one of the best albums of the year. Their self-titled debut demonstrates a plethora of influences ranging from Joy Division-esque twisted, downbeat, post-punk to proto-metal pounding headbangers. These many influences don’t muddle or confuse their sound. Rather, they manage this variety well. Viet Cong boils down these sounds to their essentials and combine them to create a rare sounding band that is both unique and accessible. These seven songs over the span of thirty-seven minutes guide the listener through a roller-coaster of sounds, with each stop being a real treat for the ears.
Viet Cong may sound all over the map, but each track carries it own unique and engaging sound. The lead-off track “Newspaper Spoons” sounds like it could have been ripped right out of Joy Division’s “Atrocity Exhibition.” “Silhouettes” could have, in part, fit in on The Police’s Synchronicity. Their stellar marathon “Death” is reminiscent of Black Sabbath. They slow this extended, eleven-minute jam down to single, declarative crashes and build back up to a furious crescendo that draws the album to a close and leaves you wanting an encore. Seven songs may seem like not much of a start; but for Viet Cong, it is an audacious announcement of their arrival.
It has been nine years since Sleater-Kinney has performed and ten years since they released an album. Their music was known for being lyrically smart, musically complex, and possessing a fast hard-hitting style that some punks bands still struggle to achieve. When they broke up in 2005, they left behind a stellar, critically-acclaimed career and moved on other, very well-received projects. But despite departures to television (Portlandia) and other musical projects, they return with their first album in a decade and have not missed a step. Carrie Brownstein, Corin Tucker, and Janet Weiss return to their “Riot Grrrl” ways with the blistering thirty-two minute No Cities to Love.
No Cities to Love brings some incisive thoughts on a wide range of topics. The opening track “Price Tag” is a scathing critique of capitalism and the tendency to increase prices while not increasing wages of workers. “Fangless” is a hammering tale of a woman rising over a break-up and becoming strong and independent. “Fangless,” though, is an ironic title for a song on their new release. Sleater-Kinney’s album has teeth and has bite. It has grit, assertiveness, and power behind its composition. No Cities to Love is a fierce comeback of a ferocious all-femme power-trio.
Choice tracks: “Price Tag” “No Cities to Love” “No Anthem”
Shadows in the Night
Bob Dylan’s career has gone through many phases; folk music, strung-out beat poet, born-again Christian. Since 1997’s Time Out of Mind, he has made a string of successful albums, with one or two critical hiccups along the way, based mostly in blues style. His last album, Tempest at times dragged, yet featured a great fourteen minute ode to the Titanic sinking and some great modest bluesy rock. But Shadows in the Night is a considerable departure from this trend as he releases a cover album of Frank Sinatra standards. My initial reaction was highly sceptical. It seemed that Bob Dylan was drawing a line divide his fans between those who were alive during the Eisenhower Administration, and those born closer to the end of the Cold War.
Yet Dylan’s trademark flawed, gravelly voice is highly emotive on Shadows in the Night. He clearly revels in performing these standards and he does so with great enthusiasm. The band is the same one that he has been working with for years and they are game for slowing things down a bit throughout these ten ballads. The closing track, however, “That Lucky Old Sun” is a real standout as it finishes the album with an uplifting affirmation. Shadows in the Night, ultimately, is one of his more surprising albums; resurrecting old classics with vigour, a reverent tone, and doing it well. It is Bob Dylan’s thirty-sixth album in a career that has gone on for over fifty years and it is abundantly clear that he still has some tricks left in the bag before he is done.
Choice tracks: “Some Enchanted Evening” “That Lucky Old Sun”
“Only One” and “FourFive Seconds”
Had you talked to me pre-2015 Grammy’s, I probably would have said that Kanye West had turned a corner, evident in the two songs released recently on which he is featured. Perhaps it was the birth of his daughter; perhaps Paul McCartney had a calming influence over him. Either way, “Only One” (with McCartney) and “FourFive Seconds” (on which he is featured with McCartney and with Rihanna being the main artist) shows an almost humble, down-to-earth Kanye (the operative word being almost). With “Only One,” Kanye West and Paul McCartney deliver a touching, R&B ode with simple, melodic arrangement and minimalist, but effective, backing vocals. “FourFive Seconds,” on the other hand, is an entirely different direction for Rhianna and Kanye. A delightful tune with a country twist, Rihanna pulls off the pain reminiscent of a country singer while maintaining her Barbadian roots. It’s only two months into the New Year and we already have two great standout songs that set the bar high.
Book and Film will return next month with American Sniper
A couple weeks ago, the Oscar nominations were announced. Every time they are announced, there is always some degree of criticism over who was left out of the nominations and who got in over whom. This time around, however, the nominations have gained quite a bit of attention; and not just for a humorous slip of the tongue.
The most surprising thing to me about the loads of criticism that has been heaped on this year’s nominations is that people are criticising these Oscars so vehemently; that people are so surprised that the Academy could be this blind and out of touch.
The fact is that these missteps are indicative of larger problems within the Academy. The need to stay relevant and in-touch with the masses is sacrificed for self-interest and political jockeying for recognition. Looking at the slate of films nominated, and the list of so-called snubs, there are four films, both nominated and not, that are indicators that there is a need for a large overhaul of the Academy rules, system, and its members.
The Babadook
If you read this blog often, you’ll know that I can praise this movie up and down, sideways and byways. And so has the great film director William Friedkin, known for The French Connection, The Exorcist, and more recently Killer Joe. Upon its North American release, Friedkin ran a campaign to get it into a wider release. He posted on his Twitter account saying that it is in the echelons of Psycho, Alien, and Diabolique, and saying that he’s “never seen a more terrifying film.” Despite this high praise, Jennifer Kent’s little film that could didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of getting nominated for any type of Oscar.
Setting aside for a moment the fact that it is a genre film, The Babadook is deemed ineligible due to the following rule:
“Films that, in any version, receive their first public exhibition or distribution in any manner other than as a theatrical motion picture release will not be eligible for Academy Awards in any category. Nontheatrical public exhibition or distribution includes but is not limited to:
Broadcast and cable television
PPV/VOD
DVD distribution
Internet transmission
Motion pictures released in such nontheatrical media on or after the first day of their Los Angeles County qualifying run remain eligible. Also, ten minutes or ten percent of the running time of a film, whichever is shorter, may be shown in a nontheatrical medium prior to the film’s qualifying run.”
The movie was released on VOD simultaneously with its theatrical release, thereby making it ineligible. It is understandable that straight-to-DVD movies and television movies are not eligible for nomination. Television movies have their own awards (Emmys), and straight-to-DVD movies are generally a good indicator of quality (unless you’re a horror buff; in which case it’s a gold mine). With the rise of Netflix and iTunes as a form of distribution, though, isn’t it high time that exceptions be made to the rule? If a film released on the same day in both forms, and still manages a successful theatrical run (or the mandated seven days in Los Angeles County), then shouldn’t that be enough to qualify it? The Academy has drawn a clear line in the sand when it comes to internet streaming, and they are on the wrong side.
Other than the technicality, there is also the stigma that it is a genre film, namely horror. There have been cases that “the glass ceiling” for thrillers, sci-fis, and horrors has been broken when it comes to the Academy Awards. The Exorcist, Aliens, District 9, and Silence of the Lambs are a handful of examples of Best Picture nominees, with Lambs being the standout as the last film to win the “Big Five” awards (Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, and Screenplay). Yet it is still rare when one of these films get recognition outside of the technical awards (especially sci-fi), let alone in the Oscars. The Academy likes to play it safe. A good, solid drama, or the occasional comedy, is generally a guarantee for the big prizes. They also don’t like it if a film skewers Hollywood too harshly.
The Lego Movie
Another criticism lobbed at this year’s Oscars is the fact that The Lego Movie is not up for a Best Animated Feature award. It did get nominated for Best Original Song for “Everything is Awesome” (their song rules are a whole other kettle of fish). But this seems to be a token consolation prize, rather than genuine praise for one of the more ironic songs featured in a movie this past year. The Lego Movie was enormously popular, and a critical success to boot. So why not give it its due? Probably because it hit a little too close to home in terms of satire.
Satire has rarely gone over well in the history of the Oscars, especially when that satire is directed at Hollywood. Take, for instance, Robert Altman’s excellent 1992 film The Player. Starring Tim Robbins as a big-time Hollywood producer, the movie focuses on Robbins’ character dealing with death threats from a disgruntled screenwriter, a wrongful murder, and the desire to make a movie the way he wants to. He seeks to create a movie without the clichéd Hollywood happy ending, but these factors, plus mounting pressure from the studio, cause him to compromise his creative ideals. The film was nominated for three Oscars (director, screenplay, and editing) and won none. Internationally, however, the film garnered numerous awards for Altman, screenwriter Michael Tolkin, and for Robbins. Even though Altman himself said the film was “mild satire” and that no one, especially with such enthusiastic participation of many actors and actresses in cameos, would be offended. Yet this is just one example of how satirical films tend to get token recognition at best when it comes to the Academy.
In terms of success at the Oscars, Sunset Boulevard is the one film I can think of that bucks this trend, nominated for eleven awards and winning three for screenplay, art direction, and score. This was also 1950 and Billy Wilder was someone who pushed the envelope when it came to his movies (see 1951’s media indictment Ace in the Hole). Nevertheless, Hollywood self-importance seems to be the name of the game, and this year is no different. Nightcrawler, which puts present-day media under scrutiny, got a token, but in my mind well-deserved, best screenplay nomination. Maps to the Stars, a twisted look at Hollywood that only David Cronenberg could direct, got shutout, even with Julianne Moore’s great performance and Bruce Wagner’s script.
But what The Lego Movie brings is a jocular roasting of pop-culture. The song “Everything is Awesome!!!” pokes fun at the sugary, top-40 music with ridiculously upbeat lyrics. The TV show featured in the movie (“Where are my pants?”) makes fun of derivative sitcoms and mind-numbing television. The movie is also a send-up of Hollywood clichés and how it feeds into the other aspects of pop culture it lampoons, namely in the character of Lord Business who owns pretty much everything including the TV and radio stations. Perhaps this implication that large studios control what gets put out and is responsible for a dumbing-down of pop culture hit a little too close to home for the Academy. But it’s clear that Hollywood isn’t exactly known for its sense of humour.
Foxcatcher
Starting with the 2010 awards, the Academy decided to up the number of best picture nominations from five to the possibility of ten. At the 2010 awards, there were ten best picture nominations, and again in 2011. The last three award ceremonies, there were nine nominees. This year, eight. The rule governing the best picture nominees states that: “The pictures receiving the highest number of votes shall become the nominations for final voting for the Best Picture award. There may not be more than ten nor fewer than five nominations; however, no picture shall be nominated that receives less than five percent of the total votes cast.”
Prior to the rule change, it was a rarity that all five best picture nominees and best director nominees matched. In fact, it only happened five times prior to 2009 (1957, 1964, 1981, 2005, and 2008). But for the first time since the rule was instituted, though, a director has been nominated for a film not nominated for best picture, that being Bennett Miller for Foxcatcher. Miller won Best Director at Cannes Film Festival for the film, and the way he brought such brilliant performances out of Steve Carell, Mark Ruffalo, and Channing Tatum he certainly deserved it. His nomination for an Academy Award is certainly not in question. What is, though, is the best picture nomination process.
Foxcatcher was nominated for five academy awards, not one of them for best picture. Which leads to the question, how did it not get nominated? How did a film deserve a best actor, best supporting, best screenplay, best makeup, and best director, but not manage to garner the necessary five percent, which is 290 votes, get that best picture nominee? Why have the option of ten nominations if you’re not going to use them? The American Film Institute managed to pick, for the first time, eleven films instead of ten worthy of distinction this year (including Foxcatcher). So why couldn’t the Academy pick ten? The Academy needs to overhaul their system and either return to five pictures or make ten the mandatory number.
Selma
By far the most criticism directed at the Academy has been for the lack of recognition given to the Martin Luther King Jr. drama Selma. Receiving two nominations for best picture and best original song, criticism have been leveled at the Academy for being both racist and sexist, particularly for the lack of inclusion of David Oyelowo for his portrayal of MLK and Ava DuVernay for her efforts behind the camera. It doesn’t help the Academy’s cause that for the first time since 1995 all the acting nominees are white, or that first time since 1999 all the directing and screenwriting nominees have been men. Also, there is the fact that as of 2013, membership of the Academy was 94% white and 76% male with the average age being 62.
These accusations of racism and sexism, given the hard data, are not completely unfounded. But this should also diminish the performances that were nominated. Of the performances on the nominations lists I have seen, they are all excellent choices (although Meryl Streep’s role in Into the Roles is probably her least deserving). David Oyelowo, in my mind, put in one of the best performances of the year as Martin Luther King Jr. and definitely is missing from the list of nominees. But if you look at the field (Steve Carell, Michael Keaton, Bradley Cooper, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Eddie Redmayne), it is tough to say who to remove to make replace with Oyelowo.
As for Ava DuVernay missing out on her nomination, she has taken it all in stride. In an interview she gave at Sundance recently, she noted that steps are being made to diversify (both at Sundance and in the Academy), and that what hurt the most was David Oyelowo not getting the nomination. And to be fair, the Academy is making efforts to push for a younger, more diverse membership. As DuVernay says “You have to get past diversity as a talking point and make it an action item.” But it also seems that Selma’s lack of acknowledgement might be due to the success of 12 Years of Slave, which won best picture last year. The self-congratulatory attitude of the Academy for acknowledging such diversity in last year’s Oscars (With Mexican Alfonso Cuaron winning best director, John Ridley and Lupita N’yongo winning for 12 Years a Slave and Jared Leto winning for portraying a transvestite in Dallas Buyer’s Club) might have worn off. It should also not be forgotten though that there is massive campaigning that goes on in order to influence voters.
One notable example is the work of Harvey Weinstein, who is notable for throwing lavish parties, putting on fancy screenings, and pulling borderline ridiculous stunts in order to sway voters towards one of his movies. Such stunts include a smear campaign that helped get Philomena a best picture nominee last year and hiring President Obama’s campaign manager to help the cause for The Silver Linings Playbook. While Weinstein is probably an exaggerated example, he is still indicative of what is commonplace in the Academy; swaying voters to pick films not necessarily based on merit but based on which film had the best campaign (which, in retrospect, would explain A LOT of their choices).
So what can be done about the Oscars? In many ways, it is simple as modernizing methods and updating rules in order make the Academy seem more with the times. To their credit, some steps are being taken in order to bring in some fresher faces in the Academy, but it will be awhile before a whole new direction is noticeable. As well, there needs to be some much needed levity amongst voters. The air of self-importance and smugness should be replaced with humility and, heaven forbid, a sense of humour. It’s also perhaps high time that they changed the way films are picked. The film festivals at Cannes, Venice, and Berlin use juries in order to decide who gets their respective top awards, and it also allows for diversity amongst the jury members and the films selected. Baby steps are being taken in terms of change. But bigger steps are needed if the Oscars want to improve their standing to a real award rather than a celebration of safe bets.
Welcome to my final post in my 2014 Wrap Series! In part two of my two-part look at the year in film, I look at the best performances of the year, my top 15 movies of the year, and make note of other movies that were pretty awesome but didn’t quite make the cut. You can find part one here: https://literarilyfilm.wordpress.com/2015/01/18/2014-in-film-part-one/
N.B: I am but one person with certain tastes. As well, I can only see so many movies. If a movie didn’t make the list, by all means tell me about it. So, sorry about that. Anyway…
Best Performances
Best Male Performance
J.K. Simmons, Whiplash
Countless movies have been made about teachers and instructors. More often than not, they are made to be inspirational like Dead Poets Society or Lean on Me. Sometimes they focus on bad terrible teachers, usually to comedic effect. But the odd time, you get the terrifying instructor. As the jazz band instructor leader Fletcher in Damien Chazelle’s Whiplash, J.K. Simmons portrays one of the most abusive, emotionally damaging instructors since R. Lee Ermey in Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket.
What drives Fletcher is fairly simple: he wants to bring out the next great jazz artist. As he repeats to Andrew (Miles Teller), Charlie Parker became the great musician was because a drummer threw a cymbal at his head. But the “cymbals” Fletcher throws aren’t always physical, but emotional as well. He sadistically berates his class, especially Andrew (see the terrific “rushing or dragging” scene). His emotional manipulations drive people to tears, near madness as in Andrew’s case, and suicide as the audience finds out part way through the film. Yet this torrent of insults and depravity is one hell of a spectacle.
Best Female Performance
Essie Davis, The Babadook
In some of the best horror movies, a woman by herself versus the powers-that-be often makes for an entertaining and thrilling premise. In Rosemary’s Baby, Mia Farrow dives into the world of the occult. Sigourney Weaver as Ripley in Alien outlasts everyone on the Nostromo and defeats the alien. As Amelia in The Babadook, Essie Davis takes one of the more challenging tasks; struggling as a widow juggling her career and her troubled son.
Even before she is terrorized by the storybook fiend, we are given a peek at the horror that is Amelia’s life: a demanding job, the loss of a loved one and the struggle of moving on, an over-imaginative and troubled son, snippy judgement from so-called friends all plague Amelia. We see her coming apart at the seams. All the audience needs to see this happen is Davis’s eyes. You can see the strain of dealing with this trouble in her eyes. When (spoiler incoming) she becomes possessed by the Babadook, the sudden turns of emotion, at times on a dime, make this one of the more demanding performances of the year. And Davis nails every nuance.
Other Great Performances:
Patricia Arquette, Boyhood
As Mason’s mother Olivia, Patricia Arquette goes through a roller-coaster of emotions as she struggles with raising Mason and his sister, dealing with two abusive ex-husbands, and the mostly-absent Mason Sr.
Michael Fassbender, Frank
Though he spends 90% of the movie with a giant papier-mâché head on, Michael Fassbender as the peculiar lead singer of a band is one of the more subtle and fragile performances he has done.
Scarlett Johansson, Under the Skin
In the great adaptation of Faber’s first novel, Johansson brings a brilliantly subtle performance of the extra-terrestrial. The way she expresses alien-like curiosity and her unintentional journey through acquiring human feeling is remarkable.
Michael Keaton, Birdman
In a clear case of art imitating life, Keaton as Riggan, an actor famous for playing a superhero looking to make a comeback, shows that he never lost his talent, nor has his comedic chops. By far it is Keaton’s best role in ages.
David Oyelowo, Selma
Speaking of transformations, were it not for a quick trip to IMDB, I would never have guessed that Oyelowo was an English actor. The forcefulness and passion with which he delivers sermons and speeches in Selma sound like they were coming from King himself.
Julianne Moore, Maps to the Stars
Much like Keaton in Birdman, Julianne Moore in David Cronenberg’s latest film is excellent as a washed up actress looking to make a comeback. The lengths she will go to reclaim fame is a real treat to watch.
Rosamund Pike, Gone Girl
Twisted, conniving, dedicated, highly-intelligent, charming; Pike is all of these and then some as the missing Amy Dunne. Underneath the facade is something dark, and Rosamund Pike does well to reveal it slowly until the climax.
Eddie Redmayne, The Theory of Everything
Some of the best performances result in a virtual transformation of the actor into the character. Eddie Redmayne very much embodies Stephen Hawking and absolutely nails the role, right down to his facial expressions.
Timothy Spall, Mr. Turner
As the titular Mr. Turner, Spall does cantankerous, eccentric, and emotionally stunted well. Spall is one of Mike Leigh’s go-to actors, and his role in Mr. Turner shows why he is a reliable choice for complex roles.
Tilda Swinton, Snowpiercer
As Mason, the second-in-command of the train Snowpiercer, Tilda Swinton is stupendous. In this well-casted film, she is by the far the most fun character to watch as she goes from upper-crust arrogance to miserable, whiny captive.
Honourable Mentions
20 000 Days on Earth/Jodorowsky’s Dune
Two great documentaries about artistic ambition and ego. One focusing on the life and music of Nick Cave, the other a compelling account about oddball director Alejandro Jodorowsky’s attempt at making Frank Herbert’s Dune with the likes of H.R. Giger and Dan O’Bannon (who would use their experience here to make Alien), Mick Jagger, Pink Floyd, Salvador Dali, Orson Welles, and many more.
22 Jump Street
This highly tongue-in-cheek sequel to 21 Jump Street sees the return of Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill as Jenko and Schmidt. It is hyper-aware that it is similar to the first one, and they clearly don’t care which only adds to the hilarity.
Gone Girl
Somehow both empowering for and negatively portraying women, the David Fincher directed Gone Girl is a twisted thriller that turns convention on its head and features some fine acting from a surprisingly strong cast.
Horns
Daniel Radcliffe continues to leave Harry Potter in the dust in this underappreciated adaptation of Joe Hill’s supernatural mystery.
Interstellar
Christopher Nolan’s wannabe 2001: A Space Odyssey is, as Nolan’s non-Dark Knight films usually are, visually-engaging, mind-bending wonder. You scarcely realize that nearly three hours have passed, and that’s a good thing.
A Most Wanted Man
Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s final starring role in this adaptation of John Le Carré’s spy thriller is a fitting coda to an amazing career.
Snowpiercer
With a large, diverse cast, and a simple premise, Snowpiercer is a well-executed, smart action movie that doesn’t skimp on the action. Under director Bong Joon-Ho, Chris Evans gives a performance that almost makes you forget that this guy is also Captain America.
X-Men: Days of Future Past
If awards could be given for a single scene, it would be for Quicksilver and the “Time in a Bottle” scene. In addition, it combines the best of the first three movies and the stupendous X-Men: First Class.
And now…
The Fifteen Best Films of 2014
15. Frank
In probably the best movie you haven’t seen or heard of, Michael Fassbender stars as the lead singer of a quirky band “The Soronpfrbs.” Inspired by the life of Chris Sievey, who performed in a papier-mâché as Frank Sidebottom, Frank is an oddly sweet and funny movie with strange characters and stranger music that you won’t be able to get out of your head.
14. A Most Violent Year
J.C. Chandor’s follow-up to the criminally under-seen All is Lost puts 1980’s New York under the microscope. Focusing on the corruption and violence that was rife at the time, A Most Violent Year features some strong performances from Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain, and some great supporting work from Albert Brooks. Chandor’s third film in four years is another statement of a talent from this budding director.
13. American Sniper
Clint Eastwood’s second film of 2014, after the not-bad-but-not-great Jersey Boys, is a deep, insightful look at Chris Kyle, a sniper who served in Afghanistan and died in 2013. It is not the rah-rah patriotism some critics say it is, nor is it a blatant repainting of the soldier’s character. Writer Jason Hall, director Eastwood, and Bradley Cooper (in top form) subtly reveal the effects that war can have on a person and a family.
12. Foxcatcher
A bizarrely true story about a reclusive millionaire and two Olympic gold medal winning wrestlers is the backdrop for Bennett Miller’s follow-up to Moneyball. A true psycho-drama, Steve Carell, Mark Ruffalo, and Channing Tatum each aim high in their respective roles, to the point that it is difficult to tell which one is the outstanding performance.
11. Guardians of the Galaxy/The Lego Movie
2014 was a good year for Chris Pratt. On top of Parks and Rec, he was in two of the most popular films of the year. Guardians features a unique cast with fantastic chemistry and great comic timing. It is easily the best movie Marvel has put out. On the other hand, The Lego Movie, directed by Phil Lord and Chris Miller (21 and 22 Jump Street), is over-the-top, manic goodness that pokes fun at sugary pop (‘Everything is Awesome!!!’), bad sitcoms (“Honey! Where are my pants?!”), and everything in between, doing satire better than most live-action movies.
10. Maps to the Stars/Nightcrawler
Two pitch-black, razor sharp satires that take place in Los Angeles. The first, from a seasoned director who specializes in the macabre, looks at the fickle nature of Hollywood stardom, and the length some will go to achieve it. The other, a directorial debut, skewers the media and the desperation in getting the scoop and getting your fifteen minutes of fame. Maps of the Stars has quite the ensemble cast acting in wonderfully weird roles, whereas Nightcrawler features a strong performance by a never slimier Jake Gyllenhaal.
9. Under the Skin
For his first movie in ten years, Jonathan Glazer chose to loosely adapt Michel Faber’s surreal, masterful debut novel Under the Skin. With Scarlett Johansson holding down the fort as the main character, an alien disguised as a human with the mission to harvest men for food, Glazer returns to form with this strangely sexy, eerie, raw sci-fi horror. Containing some amazing imagery, and great cinematography, Under the Skin is willing to go where few science fiction films, and most films in general, dare to go.
8. Mr. Turner
Mike Leigh’s second biopic, after 1999’s Topsy-Turvy about Gilbert and Sullivan making The Mikado, looks at the life of eccentric Eighteenth Century painter J.M.W. Turner. Unlike Topsy-Turvy, however, Mr. Turner focuses on a larger portion of Turner’s life, with lush, painterly cinematography, Leigh’s trusty troupe of actors, and anchored by a great Timothy Spall as the painter. Mr. Turner is another entry on Leigh’s already impressive resume of films, and shows he is one of the great British filmmakers.
7. Whiplash
Wrought with tension and featuring a fierce battle of wills, Damien Chazelle’s debut feature feels like it came from a director/writer that’s been in the game from awhile. With a frightening J.K. Simmons at its core, Whiplash explores the teacher-student dynamic from hell as Andrew (an underrated Miles Teller) has his sanity pushed to the brink, all in the name of becoming a great jazz drummer. Whiplash is a masterwork of tension with a double-time swing.
6. Selma
By far the timeliest film of 2014, Selma comes in a year where racial tensions have boiled over and brings in some perspective. Ava DuVernay makes a film about Martin Luther King Jr. that not only steers clear of hagiography, but puts focus on other key figures involved in the Civil Rights Movement. Thanks to David Oyelowo and the rest of its brilliant cast, Selma is ultimately an honest film about racial issues that holds little back.
5. Inherent Vice
Ex-old ladies. Paranoia. Incessant drug use. Stern lawmen. Wild, conspiratorial goings on. This was 1970 according to Thomas Pynchon. An absurdly convoluted story about private investigator Doc Sportello (a hilarious, whacked-out Joaquin Phoenix) trying to find his ex-girlfriend’s current boyfriend, who happens to be a millionaire, is the driving force behind Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest film. It is also the funniest PTA has been since Punch-Drunk Love. Classic slapstick and timely sight gags are just the surface of the mind-bending, stoner epic.
4. Boyhood
Linklater’s best films often focus on a specific, yet important, moment in time. Dazed and Confused looked at the last day of school in 1976. The Before Trilogy looked at an evening, an hour, and a day in the life of a relationship. Boyhood, while still looking at those key moments, expands its scope to look at the growth of a boy from the age of six to age eighteen. Filmed over a twelve year period, and taking strong cues from Francois Truffault’s Antoine Doinel series of films, Boyhood is a compelling, innovative portrait of a life and how it is impacted.
3. The Grand Budapest Hotel
Wes Anderson’s eccentric films had more than few common threads that connected them: dysfunctional families, emotionally-stunted protagonists, quirky characteristics, and similar title font are just some of the few commonalities in his movies from Rushmore to Moonrise Kingdom. But The Grand Budapest Hotel is a relatively different direction for the Texan filmmaker. Focusing on concierge extraordinaire Monsieur Gustave H. (a wonderful Ralph Fiennes), the film looks at the titular hotel from the height of its popularity prior to World War Two until decay in the late 1960’s. A mammoth ensemble cast consisting of Anderson stalwarts and newcomers, peculiar charm, odd humour are part of reasons why The Grand Budapest Hotel is such a success.
2. The Babadook
I have raved incessantly about Australian director Jennifer Kent’s debut The Babadook, a horror that breaks convention by focusing around a heartfelt story of family struggle, only to face the plight of a storybook fiend. I have praised Essie Davis’s performances as Amelia, the widowed single mother struggling to deal with work, unsympathetic friends, and a son with a hyperactive imagination, to the nines. I have hailed the effectiveness of the creeping horror that builds to a feverish climax. I have complimented the writing. I have commended the direction. What more can I honestly say about this small-budget horror masterpiece?
1. Birdman
As Colonel Hannibal Smith is wont to say “I love it when a plan comes together.” Birdman is an excellent example of when ambitious artistic vision comes together and pays off in spades. In what is possibly the ultimate instance of art imitating life, Michael Keaton does wonders as an actor who was known for his role as a superhero is looking to make a comeback in a play he wrote and directed adapting Raymond Carver’s What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. On top of this, there is Edward Norton as his finicky, temperamental co-star, Emma Stone as his daughter fresh out of rehab, Zach Galifianakis as his agent, and Naomi Watts as emotionally unstable actress, each character as screwball as the next. But then there are the finer touches such as the slight elements of magical realism, and Emmanuel Lubezki’s camera wizardry to make the film appear as if it was done in a single take that make Birdman the great film it truly deserves to be.
That’s it for my 2014 Wrap-ups! Regular posts will continue next week!
Welcome to the penultimate post in my 2014 Wrap Series. In part one of my two-part look at the year in film, I focus on some of the worst, and most disappointing films of the year, as well as look some of the best in terms of direction, cast, cinematography, and writing. N.B. I am only one person with certain tastes. I can only watch so many movies. So if you don’t see something, chill yo.
It is mid-January. What better time to look back on the best and worst that was in the year in film? There have been many great films released in 2014. But first, let’s take a look at some of the ones that caused me to give my head a shake or ponder what I just sat through.
Most Disappointing Films
Sin City: A Dame to Kill For
Robert Rodriguez’s much-delayed sequel to 2005’s Sin City, based on the graphic novel series, was one of my more anticipated films of the year. Even after nine years of waiting, my interest still hadn’t waned. Finally, in August, A Dame to Kill For finally hit theatres boasting a large and quality cast with Josh Brolin, Joseph Gordon Levitt, Eva Green as new members to the series, and Mickey Rourke, Jessica Alba, Bruce Willis, Rosario Dawson, and Powers Boothe reprising their roles from the previous film. Even though Frank Miller was involved (the taste of The Spirit still rotten in my mouth), it had much promise.
To be fair, there is a fantastic performance by Eva Green as Ava Lord, the titular dame, who clearly has fun playing the femme fatale. Overall, however, the film seems to be missing much of the bite that made the first Sin City such a great comic book movie. The black-and-white visuals that were groundbreaking in 2005 seemed be almost recycled. And as much as I love JGL, his plot-line in the film seemed half-baked at best. For a movie that had nine years to gestate, the end result was a major let down, paling in comparison to its predecessor.
Tusk
There is no question that Kevin Smith is a divisive filmmaker. People either love his movies or hate them. I tend to enjoy them. His comedies are absurd, blissfully ridiculous, and often witty. His recent turn into horror and other genres has been met with some hesitation. Red State was decent and satirical, but it was hardly in the same league as Clerks or Chasing Amy. He announced awhile ago that Tusk would be the first of a planned trilogy of films taking place in Canada. Naturally, I was interested in what Smith was going to do and had foolishly high hopes for this crazy, horror tale in the same vein as The Human Centipede.
Tusk turned out to be a movie of diminishing returns, though. The premise about a man who wants to turn a person into a walrus for sentimental reasons is the stuff B-movie legends are made of. But it descends into torture-porn-esque gnarliness. Johnny Depp is a surprisingly hilarious addition to the cast and relishes every moment as a Quebecois ex-cop turned private investigator. Yet this inspired performance could not save the movie. Ultimately, Tusk was a let-down mainly because it went in the wrong direction, namely the cheap gross-out road instead, for instance, of a more psychological-horror style. Hopefully the other two movies of this trilogy are an improvement. But I won’t hold my breath.
Most Overrated Film
The Theory of Everything
For a biography on the great astrophysicist Stephen Hawking, James Marsh’s The Theory of Everything seemed out of focus. At the film’s core are two fantastic performances with Eddie Redmayne transforming into Hawking and Felicity Jones as his steadfast wife Jane. But the film at the same time tries to pack much into two hours while also explaining little. Time passes quickly while also dragging. It is unclear if time was purposely manipulated to be disorienting; if it was, then it was to their disadvantage; if it wasn’t, then it certainly came across as muddled. The Theory of Everything could have benefitted from being longer to allow for more explanation, or being shorter to allow for a more narrow focus. Either way, there were many aspects of Hawking’s life worth focusing on. In this case, however, the shotgun method of filmmaking doesn’t quite work.
Three Worst Films
3. Tammy
I had low expectation for this movie. I didn’t expect it to be a brilliant comedy equivalent to, say Bridesmaids or The Hangover, but I thought it would at least be wonderfully stupid physical comedy-type. Instead, this Melissa McCarthy vehicle, directed by her husband, turned out to be a tedious travel movie, instead of the rollicking slapstick it probably should have been. Its premise wasn’t exactly one of the more original ones out there. Add to this that it features Susan Sarandon and Kathy Bates slumming it for a paycheck, and a too-cheesy love story, and you get a real clunker of a movie.
2. Transformers 4
At this point, we shouldn’t expect much from Michael Bay. But alas, here we are. The fourth installment of his down payment on Bermuda. Yes, Shia LaBoeuf is gone from the series, and replaced by Mark Wahlberg (who should know better by now). And there are DINOBOTS!!! But how many times can you completely destroy Chicago? (Apparently twice) And how can you get away with having people perve on the main female lead, who is supposed to be Wahlberg’s seventeen year old daughter? (Apparently easily) As long as people keep seeing them and buying tickets, perhaps we’ll see Megatron take a dump on Chicago’s rubble in Transformers 5: Gimme Your Money, Sucka.
1. Transcendence
Surprisingly worse than a Michael Bay movie is Wally Pfister’s Transcendence. Working as Christopher Nolan’s cinematographer on all his films, Pfister has an eye for visually engaging filmmaking. And to be fair, Transcendence is appealing visually. However, everything from the plot to the cardboard characters made the movie not the sci-fi epic it should have been, but into a mind-numbing test of endurance. This isn’t entirely Pfister’s fault. You thank Jack Paglen’s poor storytelling and explanations for the failure of Pfister’s directorial debut. This script probably should have stayed on the Hollywood Blacklist.
Best Cinematography
Birdman
Emmanuel Lubezki works some real camera magic as he film Riggan’s struggles in what appears to be one seamless take. His constant use of close-ups is economical yet effective in terms of framing exactly what the audience needs to see. He won many awards last year for Gravity and appears set to do so again for his wizardry in this magnificent film.
Runners-Up:
Gone Girl
Frequent Fincher collaborator Jeff Croenenweth is seriously underrated as a cinematographer. His slightly grey-washed tones in Gone Girl echoes what he did in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Social Network, and effectively sets the noir tone for the film.
Mr. Turner
Unfortunate name flubs aside, Dick Pope’s luscious cinematography attempts to capture the eccentric painter’s vision of his surroundings. The result is a masterpiece in photography that comes pretty close to matching the visual awe of JMW Turner’s best works.
20 000 Days on Earth
Nick Cave’s documentary about, well, himself may come across as self-aggrandizing and narcissistic. But, damn, if it is not one beautifully shot documentary. From stylish angles to scenic shots as large as Cave’s ego, 20 000 Days on Earth is one of the more visually captivating docs out there.
Under the Skin
Part guerilla-style camerawork, part scenic journey through Scotland, and part cosmic wonder, Under the Skin manages to find a way to marry all three of these seemingly disconnected themes thanks to the work of Daniel Landin. Best Screenplay
Paul Thomas Anderson, Inherent Vice
If there was anyone I would trust to put the words of Thomas Pynchon on film, it would Paul Thomas Anderson. Nothing about this film is simple, and the complexity makes for an entertainingly weird mystery. An absurd, stoner epic, Inherent Vice is a twisted hippie conspiracy that demands multiple viewings.
Runners-up:
Wes Anderson, The Grand Budapest Hotel
Wes Anderson is known for his quirky, eccentric films that deal with familial issues, and often go into dark places. While about a different sort of family, Monsieur Gustave H. and his employees at the hotel, Anderson deviates slightly with a period piece set on the eve of World War II. But it still has all the charm and peculiarity of a Wes Anderson film, and snappy dialogue to boot.
Dan Gilroy, Nightcrawler
Dan Gilroy’s pitch-black satire about a journalist weaseling his way into work is a terrific indictment on the “if it leads, it bleeds” mantra of modern journalism. It is a thrilling look inside the mind of man willing to do anything for his fifteen minutes.
Jennifer Kent, The Babadook
One of the scariest films recently made is also a great family story thanks to Aussie director/writer Jennifer Kent’s script. Kent weaves the pressures of being a single, working, mother and dealing with supernatural fiend seamlessly.
Bruce Wagner, Maps to the Stars
Director David Cronenberg not only had a great cast to work with, but also had some great writing thanks to Bruce Wagner’s searing, complex tale of narcissism, comebacks, incest, and trying to make it big in Hollywood.
Best Cast
Selma
In a film where the people around Martin Luther King are given as much weight as MLK, a well-rounded cast is needed. Led by a stellar David Oyelowo, Selma’s deep cast, including Tom Wilkinson, Oprah Winfrey, Tim Roth, and Common, help fully illustrate the characters involved in the March to Montgomery and their role the Civil Rights cause.
Runners-up: Birdman
With Michael Keaton at its centre, Birdman’s cast brings seemingly surreal and at times all too real characters to fruition to Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s story of comeback and redemption. The magical realistic setting is enforced and celebrated by a cast that have completely bought in to the concept.
Foxcatcher
Three actors of varying background dug deep to bring this twisted true story to fruition. Mark Ruffalo is great as the calming centre of the trio. Channing Tatum is at his best yet as Olympic wrestler Mark Schultz. And Steve Carell leaves Michael Scott in the dust as the reclusive billionaire John DuPont.
Guardians of the Galaxy
Who would have thought that a wrestler, Andy from Parks and Rec, Neytiri of the Nav’i, a smart-ass raccoon, and a talking tree that can only say three words could have such great chemistry? As well as Michael Rooker, Glenn Close, Djimon Hounsou, John C. Reilly, Karen Gillian, and Lee Pace as the villain, Guardians of the Galaxy managed to bring a wide range of actors together for the best superhero movie Marvel has made yet.
Gone Girl
It really shows how strong a cast is when you sit back afterwards and say “Damn, Tyler Perry was amazing in that!” Rosamund Pike may be the standout performance, but everyone from Affleck and Carrie Coon to Kim Dickens and NPH brought their A-Game. Best Director
Mike Leigh, Mr. Turner
Mike Leigh’s unique style of directing involves drafting situations and collaborating with actors in order to flesh out their character. The result is often entertaining and reveals the character’s deepest motivations. Mr. Turner is another successful example of this brilliant exercise in filmmaking.
Runners-up:
Ava DuVernay, Selma
Armed with a stellar cast and an inspirational historical event, Ava DuVernay digs deep behind the scenes of the lead-up to the March to Montgomery and the 1965 Voting Rights legislation. She creates a great film about Martin Luther King while not entirely focusing only on King, but on other key figures involved as well.
Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, Birdman
Inarritu had a clear vision for Birdman and demanded the best out of everyone involved. The actors had to know their marks precisely; the cameraman had to frame everything a certain way; the editor had to cut together takes to make the film come across as one single take. And thanks to Inarritu, everybody was on the top of their game.
Jennifer Kent, The Babadook
In her debut film, Aussie director Jennifer Kent keeps things simple: A storybook villain terrorizes a family, while the mother struggles with raising a child as a widow. Kent takes this simple premise, though, and works wonders in making a truly frightening film.
Richard Linklater, Boyhood
Filming periodically over the course of twelve years, Boyhood’s ambition and innovation could only come from someone with Truffault-like tenacity. Linklater’s character study about a boy’s journey from age six to eighteen, while not in the league of Dazed and Confused, deserves praise for its idea and originality.
Bennett Miller, Foxcatcher Foxcatcher is particularly distinct for its strong cast. With Bennett Miller at the helm, great performances were coaxed out of Steve Carell, Mark Ruffalo, and Channing Tatum. He also shows a great knack for highlighting tension and conflict amongst these characters.
In part two, I look at the best performances of the year and give my top 15 films of the year.
Welcome to another segment of my 2014 wrap-up post. This week, I look back on the books I read in 2014, make some observations, and make some resolutions for 2015.
Since I finished school, I have been somewhat slacking in the reading department. Yes, I would read here and there; but it took me quite some time to finish a book, let alone get through a series of books.
Starting in May, though, I took it upon myself to get through the extensive pile of books were weighing down my shelf. As a slow reader, I thought this would be an arduous, yet enjoyable, task. I soon found myself, however, starting and finishing stories in a day or two (depending on the length). As a result of this unexpectedly quick pace, based on my own expectations, I managed get through forty-seven books, something I don’t think I have ever come close to in recent memory. I want to take this opportunity to go through some of the highlights and lowlights of my literary odyssey, and draw some conclusions.
The Catcher in the Rye, Nine Stories, Franny and Zooey, and Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction
One accomplishment that I am proud of is reading all four of J.D. Salinger’s works. I normally have trouble completing series, but the four works were varied enough to keep me engaged and motivated to finish all four books. The Catcher in the Rye, arguably Salinger’s most popular and famous work, is a classic, an early example of teen angst and rebelling against authority. Whereas The Catcher in the Rye showed Salinger’s prowess in writing long form, Nine Stories is a master’s class in how to write an efficient yet affective short story. “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” is a sweet story that gut-punches you in the last two paragraphs, and “For Esmé—with Love and Squalor” brought to PTSD to the forefront in the post-war era. Several of the stories also introduce us to the Glass family, who are instrumental in Salinger’s next two works.
Franny and Zooey, in my mind Salinger’s best work, presents two related stories (the short story “Franny” and a novella “Zooey”) about two of the siblings of the Glass family. The titular character of “Franny” suffers a nervous, spiritual, and existential, breakdown while attending university. In “Zooey,” we see Franny again, clearly withdrawn and not in the right mindset. What makes this work particularly powerful is the way Salinger brings in the emotionally stunted Zooey the help Franny get out of her funk, allowing them the opportunity to bond while healing. Like Franny and Zooey, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpentersand Seymour: An Introduction consists of two stories. While “Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters” is a decent story, I found “Seymour: An Introduction” to be quite dense and difficult to follow. The stream-of-consciousness style Salinger uses in this story is, at times, too convoluted and the long paragraphs made reading feel arduous. Nonetheless, after finishing the last page of “Seymour: An Introduction,” I felt accomplished in finishing off the last of a series and thought that this is something I need to do more often.
Under the Skin
After watching Jonathan Glazer’s adaptation, I was curious to see the similarities and differences between the film starring Scarlett Johansson and Michel Faber’s debut novel. The chief, striking difference between the film and the novel is the emphasis on sexuality and seduction. The alien in Glazer’s interpretation seduces men back to her place where they are sucked into preservative goo and later harvested for food. Faber, on the other hand, repeatedly highlights how strange the main character looks, with obviously exaggerated features and clearly fake breasts that draw the hitchhiker’s attention. As well, Faber’s writing creates a delightfully dreary picture of Scotland, while also utilizing surrealism to disorient. Under the Skin, however, transcends genre. It is not solely a sci-fi novel. It uses elements of horror, thriller, and travel novels to captivate and guide the reader through his eerie vision.
Kurt Vonnegut, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and Jack Kerouac
Of all the works I read over the past year, six of them were by Kurt Vonnegut, one of my favourite authors. Vonnegut’s brilliance lies within his foresight, and his ability to satirize humanity. For instance, in his debut novel Player Piano, Vonnegut pictures an increasingly mechanized and computerized world where people can get PhD’s in seemingly everything, such as real estate, and workers are becoming redundant due to being replaced by robots. Looking back sixty years after its publication, it’s pretty frightening how true this rings today. Vonnegut is also capable of looking back on his life with tongue-in-cheek. In Palm Sunday, one section consists of Vonnegut grading his work up to, and including, Palm Sunday (which, by the way, he gives a ‘C’). Vonnegut’s intelligent satire always provided some much needed levity, especially after reading something like Autumn of the Patriarch.
Written by Colombian author Gabriel Garcia Marquez, who sadly passed away in 2014, Autumn of the Patriarch was one of the most difficult novels I read this year. Not only was it chock full of Marquez’s trademark magical-realism and a convoluted changing of perspectives, but also provided demanded much from the reader; the novel consists of six chapters; each chapter was about fifty pages, containing one paragraph per chapter. Navigating these walls of text about the last days of a dictator’s rule seemed, at times, a Herculean task. But, Marquez ultimately rewards the reader with rich imagery, intriguing plot lines, and what I can only describe as literary sleight-of-hand.
On top of reading three works by Marquez (the aforementioned Autumn of the Patriarch, Memories of my Melancholy Whores, and Of Love and Other Demons), and the six works by Vonnegut, I found myself also reading quite a bit of Jack Kerouac. Having read his landmark novel On the Road and having seen the films Big Sur and Kill Your Darlings, I wanted to dive deeper into Kerouac’s other works. For me, Big Sur was the standout. Set after the publication of On the Road, Big Sur focuses on Kerouac attempting to deal with his success by seeking solace in Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s cabin in Big Sur, California. Whereas On the Road is pumped up with masculinity and ego, Big Sur is in many ways a deflation of the image Kerouac painted of himself and Neal Cassady in On the Road. The reader is presented with vulnerable Kerouac coming apart at the seams, and eventually collapsing into a nervous breakdown. In my mind, Big Sur is Kerouac’s best and most honest work as he opens up about the effect fame had on him, and how fragile an ego can be.
The Crying of Lot 49
The Crying of Lot 49 is short for a Thomas Pynchon novel (only around 150 pages). But his second novel is crammed full of absurdity, satire, puns, and a dizzying conspiratorial plot. When Oedipa Maas becomes the executor of her ex-boyfriend’s will, she unwittingly becomes entangled in a centuries old conflict between two warring postal companies, Thurn und Taxis and the Trystero. Pynchon’s prose is purposely disorienting, guiding the reader through hard, unexpected left turns in the plot, meeting ridiculous characters with equally ridiculous names (such as Mike Fallopian and Genghis Cohen), all leading to a conclusion as puzzling as journey Oedipa goes on. This convolution is what all satire should strive to achieve, and Pynchon does a masterful job.
The Most Disappointing Books I Read
In terms of fiction, there was hardly I time when I was disappointed in a novel. However if I had to pick one as disappointing, I suppose it would be Kurt Vonnegut’s Bluebeard. The main reason I pick Bluebeard is not because it is an intriguing story, focusing on an aging painter who is writing his autobiography, and not because of its fantastic ending. It is just not up to Vonnegut’s high standard. It is not that it isn’t a good novel; it is that Bluebeard is not his best work when it could have been. Other than Karabekian, the main character, and a couple of other minor instances most of the characters, namely Circe Berman, are nuisances, and not in a good away. Berman ultimately serves a good purpose that leads to a great ending; however, her character just seems to need a bit of tweaking. The same could be said of other characters, like Gregory’s assistant.
Overall, though, the most disappointing book I read this year was Jonathan Safran Foer’s Eating Animals. I loved Foer’s previous works Everything is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, and have been eager to dive into his look at ethical eating. The work his well-researched as he explores the impact factory farming has on the poultry, beef, and pork industry, as well as the ramification it has on human health and smaller farmers. It is also well-intended; he gives voice to smaller, ethical farmers and their struggle to make a living. Foer paints a vivid picture of the treatment these animals go through, the conditions of these factory farms, and compares them to how well run these smaller farms are. But for all the passion that clearly motivates Foer’s work, the conclusion he comes to is extremely disappointing. After creating such a detailed depiction of the state of the meat industry, he somehow manages to come up short when it comes to offering any sort of conclusion. He builds up such a strong case, only to end up on a blasé, disappointing note.
So, where do I go from here?
I still have a pile of books on my shelf to work through, but going through these books last year has introduced me to some exciting authors. In the new year, one of my wishes is to explore different authors. Most of the authors I have read tend to be American, English, or Canadian, predominantly male, and rarely they were works written prior to 1950. I want to extend to my reading list to include authors from other nations, older works (maybe some classics), and female authors (I should REALLY read some Margaret Atwood).
I also want to read more non-fiction. After reading the magnificent autobiography of Luis Bunuel (My Last Sigh), and Jonathan Safran Foer’s well-composed, well-researched, (albeit not very assertive) Eating Animals, I asked myself why I didn’t read more books like these. Bunuel’s work contains one of the strongest openings I have ever read, and Foer’s colourful comparisons are on point. These works have opened me up to a whole genre I have generally shunned and largely have not taken an interest in.
Finally, I need to commit and finish series. Reading all of J.D. Salinger’s works was a great achievement for me. Knocking through all four works not exposed me to a great writer, but gave me a sense of accomplishment in finishing something. In addition to Burrough’s Word Hoard (or ‘Cut-Up’) Trilogy and Cormac McCarthy’s Border Trilogy (All the Pretty Horses, The Crossing, Cities on the Plain), I need to wrap the final books of The Hunger Games trilogy and the Harry Potter saga. I read the Harry Potter books voraciously when they first came out. However time passed and by the time The Deathly Hollows came out, I was in university, swamped with other reading. These three reading resolutions of mine would provide some much needed variety, as well as provide the satisfaction of completion.
The Books I Read in 2014:
A Man for All Seasons by Robert Bolt
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
Gods and Monsters by Christopher Bram
My Last Sigh by Luis Bunuel
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
Junky by William S. Burroughs
Book of Longing by Leonard Cohen
Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
Under the Skin by Michel Faber
Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer
The Third Man by Graham Greene
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac
Big Sur by Jack Kerouac
The Vanity of Duluoz by Jack Kerouac
The Book of Dreams by Jack Kerouac
The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin
Haunted Knight by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale
Island by Alastair MacLeod
Blue is the Warmest Color by Julie Maroh
The Autumn of the Patriarch by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Of Love and Other Demons by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Memories of my Melancholy Whores by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
The Counsellor by Cormac McCarthy
Wanted by Mark Millar and JG Jones
On Politics and the Art of Acting by Arthur Miller
300 by Frank Miller and Lynn Varley
Nemo: Roses of Berlin by Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
American Splendor by Harvey Pekar
The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon
The Street by Mordecai Richler
The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger
Nine Stories by JD Salinger
Franny and Zooey by JD Salinger
Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction by JD Salinger
The Sentimentalists by Johanna Skibsrud
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
Welcome to the next chapter of my 2014 wrap-up posts! This time around, I look at the best music I came across in 2014.
N.B. I am one person with certain tastes. And while I am working on expanding my musical purview, there is still much I have not heard or considered for this list, or my worst of list. I am always looking for new music, so if you have any suggestions by all means let me know!
Biggest Surprises
These albums are ones that either came out of nowhere, or I blindly took a listen to and liked what I heard.
New Crown by Wolfmother
After releasing a stellar debut album in 2005, Wolfmother lost two of its members due to “irreconcilable differences” with guitarist and lead singer Andrew Stockdale. But Stockdale found some new members and put out the heavy and somewhat long slog of an album Cosmic Egg. The band then seemed to go into indefinite hibernation, with no sign of returning. Then, out of nowhere, in March 2014, Wolfmother dropped a surprise album online New Crown with two new members, Stockdale, and Ian Peres (member since the Cosmic Egg sessions). While it is no Wolfmother, it does hearken back to their 2005 sound, brash, fuzzy, loud, without the meandering length. They experiment with different sounds, namely punk on “Feelings,” which are done with mediocre results. Yet, the overall song-writing is solid, and is certainly a welcome return to form for this dormant band.
The Foundations of Burden by Pallbearer
I am normally not one to delve too far into the metal genre. My biggest forays mainly stick to the likes of Black Sabbath or Iron Maiden. I stumbled upon Pallbearer through my usual perusal of music sites and album reviews. Clearly taking a page out of Black Sabbath’s book, The Foundations of Burden, the band’s second album, brings nothing but excellent old school metal. Most of the songs clocking in at over ten minutes, Pallbearer fitting finds their own niche as a prog-stoner metal band, with plenty of opportunities to let your inner metal-head out.
To Be Kind by Swan
It is hard to characterize where Swan fits in terms of genre. They have elements of prog-rock, elements of alternative, and often stretch out into experimental territory. With ten songs that total two hours in length, Swan clearly doesn’t care about fitting within convention; rather, they seek to shatter those conventions. The centrepiece of the album is the thirty-four minute part-metal/part-meditation “Bring the Sun/Toussant L’Ouverture,” a song as long as most albums nowadays. To Be Kind is an intriguing and enthralling exercise that will leave you wondering where the time went.
Best Songs
“Fever” by the Black Keys
One of the highlights on the Black Key’s latest album Turn Blue, “Fever” has an infectious keyboard-driven riff and contains all the elements of classic Black Key’s songs. If only their album was as strong as their lead single.
“The Futurescope Trilogy” by Weezer
What a way to cap off their return to form. This three-part, six minute finale has a crescendo of pounding guitar and drums, and ridiculous lyrics. The song announces to the world that Weezer is back and means business.
“Ride” by TV on the Radio
After losing their bassist and long-time member Gerard Smith to cancer, TV on the Radio had to face a tough decision regarding their return. And return they did. “Ride” is the band’s catharsis over their grief. When the band kicks in, you can hear them breaking through the wall of sadness and emerging renewed and looking toward the future.
“Uptown Funk” by Mark Ronson featuring Bruno Mars
After seeing Bruno Mars perform at the Super Bowl last year, it was clear that there was a disconnect between the songs played on the radio and how they are performed live. But with some help from songwriter Mark Ronson and influence from artists like Morris Day and the Time and Prince, a resurrection of funk that hasn’t been heard, or this catchy, since the 80’s.
“Word Crimes” by “Weird Al” Yankovic
My inner English language lover could not resist mentioning this send-up of Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines.” ‘Weird’ Al’s clever commentary on all too common grammar problems and sins of spelling will have you laughing, or will have you double-checking your texts before sending them.
Top Ten Albums 10-3
10 (Tie). Rock or Bust by AC/DC and Mandatory Fun by “Weird Al” Yankovic
These two albums are testaments to AC/DC’s and ‘Weird Al’s’ longevity and capability to stay popular for all these years. Recently passing the forty year mark, AC/DC had some setbacks in the past year, namely the retirement of founding member Malcolm Young due to dementia and the whole Phil Rudd death threat debacle. But AC/DC dusted themselves off and powered through doing what they do best: straight ahead, no-brainer rock ‘n’ roll. Their formula has not changed much since their inception; blues inspired rock, lyrics about sex, music, and war, and sticking with the basic guitar/bass/drums to fuel their catchy riffs. Rock or Bust maintains these characteristics and shows no signs of band intending to hang them up soon.
As opposed to sticking with the same formula, ‘Weird Al’ has been able to stay fresh for thirty (!) years now because of his ability use pop music and adapt them to his own whimsical, satirical ends. The fact that Mandatory Fun might be his last conventional album is indicative of his adaptability. With the rise of digital music, Yankovic is considering releasing music via iTunes or other means a little at a time. That way, he can put out music quicker and still be able to stay abreast of current music trends. His parodies of “Blurred Lines” (“Word Crimes”), “Happy” (“Tacky”), and “Fancy” (“Handy”) highlights his main strength: the ability to adapt any song into a wonderfully absurd, highly original, and captivating tune.
9. Lazaretto by Jack White
A couple years after his amazing debut solo album Blunderbuss, Jack White dropped Lazeretto in June of 2014. Using one all female band and one all male band, White’s songs are a markedly different tone from the almost morose, lamenting tone of his first album. White sounds at times angrier and more carefree, working through the feelings of his recent divorce. While it doesn’t quite achieve the mark of Blunderbuss, Lazeretto was certainly a welcome album that seemed a long time coming. Hard-hitting, gritty, and unrelenting, Lazeretto echoes of the best songs from his White Stripes days as well as adding a new chapter to Jack White’s great career thus far.
8. Hypnotic Eye by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
It’s been four years since Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers released their decent, but overall tedious, album Mojo. Hypnotic Eye, though, is a vast improvement over their last album, tightening things up and bringing, as Jack Black would say, a tasty jam. Their lead track “American Dream Plan B” is a steady driven starter that is both self-deprecating (“I can’t dance worth shit” Petty sings) and hopeful. Hypnotic Eye is most certainly one of the better efforts to come post-Full Moon Fever and is a great nostalgic album for fans of Tom Petty.
7. Seeds by TV on the Radio
I have already talked at length about TV on the Radio’s loss of band member Gerard Smith and their subsequent struggle to carry on. Seeds, though, is more than an album about getting over loss, as is evident in the fantastic song “Ride.” Their fifth studio album is also an intelligent, artsy effort reminiscent of Dear Science, and Return to Cookie Mountain. Their complex, brainy, rambling lyrics fits perfectly with their musical virtuosity and passion for their craft. TV on the Radio doesn’t so much create albums; rather they create art. Seeds is an ideal extension of the band’s desire to create good art and fascinating music.
6. …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin by The Roots
Since working with Jimmy Fallon on Late Night and subsequently The Tonight Show as the house band, The Roots have been a busy, hard working group with music as well as utilizing their impressive comedic chops. Somehow, they still find time to return to their, well, roots and create powerful, incisive hip-hop and rap. …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin may be a short thirty-three minute album, but it’s a gut-punch of a continuation of their previous concept album Undun. Like Undun, The Roots puts America’s hip-hop and violent culture under the microscope and criticizes its glorification in music. …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin is another bold examination of America set to sick beats and fiery lyrics courtesy ?uestlove and Black Thought.
5. They Want My Soul by Spoon
Spoon, a five-piece band out of Austin, Texas, has had quite the acclaimed career and has been critical darlings since their 2001 album Girls Can Tell. Their eighth album They Want My Soul continues this streak with a ten song sonic barrage of riffs and well-crafted, sub-five minute treats. The lead track, “Rent I Pay,” the title track, and “Inside Out” are fine examples of the diverse sounds Spoon is capable creating and prove that they are band that can do variety well. By tampering with different sounds, Spoon’s latest effort is statement of their versatility and dedication to making great music.
4. Everything Will Be Alright in the End by Weezer
It has been a rough decade critically for Weezer. Since the release of Make Believe, their efforts have been mediocre at best. And while their last album Hurley showed signs of the old Weezer, it still wasn’t quite up to snuff when compared to their older work. The best way to get out of a rut, as any hockey player will tell you, is to go back to the basics. Returning with the producer of their first album Ric Ocasek, they returned to the sound that made them famous. They make an album filled with tongue-in-cheek shots at themselves, loud riffs, and cap it off with the stellar closer “The Futurescope Trilogy.” Everything Will be Alright in the End is Weezer assuring its fans that they have come back with a vengeance.
3. Black Messiah by D’Angelo and the Vanguard
In what is likely the biggest surprise of the year in terms of music, R&B artist D’Angelo, who has not released an album, let alone has scarcely been heard from, since 2000, released what has quickly become of the most critically acclaimed albums of the year. The kicker is that the album was released only two weeks ago, with its first single coming a couple days before the Black Messiah came out. Channeling his inner Sly Stone, Prince, and Jimi Hendrix, D’Angelo brings a rare form of soul that could not have come a better time. With racial tensions being particularly highlighted in the media nowadays, Black Messiah is a timely snapshot of the African-American experience and is as politically scathing as it is spiritually affirming. Such soul has rarely been heard since the days of James Brown, Curtis Mayfield, or Marvin Gaye; and D’Angelo’s latest work certainly deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as these titans of R&B.
Runner-Up
Popular Problems by Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen has had quite the accomplished career that spans fifty-plus years. In this half century of work, he has published a couple of novels, countless poems, and, a day after his 80th birthday, released his thirteenth album Popular Problems. At an efficient thirty-six minutes, Cohen’s nine song collection is the artist at as peak of form as he has ever been. From the self-deprecating, morbid “Slow,” to the exalting joy of “You Got Me Singing” Popular Problems hits on all of the typical Leonard Cohen themes while keeping the music simple, with the help of his tried and true backing band. The octogenarian shows no signs of stopping just yet. However, if this does turn out to be his last album, it is an ideal cap to a storied career.
Album of the Year
Morning Phase by Beck
In the six years since Modern Guilt, Beck has been pretty quiet, sideline partially because of back injury he suffered. Fans of Beck have been chomping at the bit for him to put out another album. A couple years ago he did, but not in the conventional sense. He released Song Reader has a book of sheet music for others to perform at their own will (it was released this year as an album with various artists with underwhelming results). Finally in February, Beck unleashed Morning Phase which, according to Beck, is a sort of companion piece his 2002 album Sea Change.
The result is what easily one of his most beautiful and thoughtful albums he has created. Using the same band he employed on Sea Change with additional help from his father David Campbell, the songs on Morning Phase are not morose or sad. Rather, the album has an uplifting quality to the tone. Like TV on the Radio’s Seeds, it is more about rising out of a funk. Songs like “Morning” and “Blackbird Chain” have a real affirming notion of hope to them. But it’s the last track “Waking Light” that sounds like Beck looking outward and upward towards a brightness of positivity that he is pushing for throughout the album. This emotive and meditative journey that Beck guides the listener through is captivating, and quality of the music is worth applauding. This is simply Beck doing what he does best.
Welcome to the next chapter of my 2014 wrap-up posts! This time around, I look at the worst music I came across in 2014.
N.B. I am one person with certain tastes. And while I am working on expanding my musical purview, there is still much I have not heard or considered for this list, or my best of list. I am always looking for new music, so if you have any suggestions by all means let me know!
Most Disappointing Albums
Before I get into what I thought was the absolute worst of the year, let’s take a look at the albums that were the biggest let downs. The “Fredo Corleones,” if you will.
As I am wont to do, I read many reviews and year-end posts. One year-end post that tends to catch my eye is Rolling Stone’s 50 Best Albums of the Year (which you can peruse at your leisure here: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/50-best-albums-of-2014-20141201 ). The list has its problems; omitting Beck’s Morning Phase being the most egregious of these offences. But when they picked their top three, they seemed to have picked the most disappointing albums for me:
3. Turn Blue by the Black Keys
This is by far the most painful one to put on the list. I love the Black Keys. They have not made a terrible album yet. Attack and Release, Brothers, and El Camino are rank amongst some of the best rock albums made since 2000 in my mind. So when I heard that they were releasing a new album this year, I was elated. Their lead single ‘Fever’ was infectious and certainly boosted my hopes for the album.
And then I heard the album.
To the Black Keys’ credit, they do start and end the album strongly. “The Weight of Love” hearkens back Neil Young and Crazy Horse in their hey-day, and “Gotta Get Away” is a bouncy track that ends the album on an upswing. But it’s in-between that’s the problem. For a forty-five minute album, it seems to drag, offering few distinct tracks (like aforementioned “Fever”) to buoy the rest of the album. The main reason why this is one of my disappointing albums is because they have done, and can do, much better than this half-hearted effort. I understand that they were trying out a different sound. But the results ultimately came up short. Still, a mediocre Black Keys album is better than most music out there.
2. High Hopes by Bruce Springsteen.
Bruce Springsteen makes an album featuring Rage Against the Machine’s Tom Morello on guitar for most of the tracks? On paper, this sounds like a match made in heaven. After all, Rage did cover The Boss’s “Ghost of Tom Joad” on their final album Renegades. But, much like Communism, what works well on paper does not necessarily work well in practice.
It’s not that Springsteen and Morello don’t have chemistry. Rather, they mesh quite well together. It is apparent that Morello and Springsteen feed off each other’s energy and their enthusiasm shows. The problem, though, lies within the songs themselves. Again, there are a few standout tracks: “The Ghost of Tom Joad,” “High Hopes,” and “American Skin (41 Shots)” are great reimaginings and rearrangements of these tracks. But it is clear most of these songs are leftovers and toss-aways from previous albums; songs that didn’t quite make the cut. They don’t entirely flow together; instead, they seem like they are parts of a puzzle frustratingly jammed together to make them fit. I wanted this to be an excellent album, I really did. The pieces just weren’t there.
1. Songs of Innocence by U2
I have long been a defender of U2. Not only were they once titans of protest and philanthropy, they made some great music. With classic albums such as Boy, The Unforgettable Fire, The Joshua Tree, Achtung Baby, All That You Can’t Leave Behind, it cannot be denied that they are an influential group. Nowadays, I still say to those who believe that they aren’t relevant that “Hey, at least they still make some decent music.” It’s been five years since the release of their last album, No Line on the Horizon, and rumours have been swirling for a couple years that another album was impending.
It was quite a surprise when U2 dropped Songs of Innocence on everyone with an iTunes accounts. Many people were complaining that “they didn’t want such unwanted music in their library.” But hey, I am not one to complain for free music. What they should be complaining about is the fact that it’s forty-eight minutes of mediocrity. The lead track is outstanding. “The Miracle (Of Joey Ramone)” is an excellent ode to a punk icon. But the album hits a wall hard shortly thereafter and putters along without a care. The tracks aren’t bad, yet they also aren’t really ones that you skip to just hear again. What’s more disappointing is that Rolling Stone named this the best album of 2014. Although I am not surprised that such a mediocre effort was rewarded, it shows how biased and how out-of-touch the magazine is.
Worst Song
As someone who listens to Virgin Radio more than I care to admit, I have heard my share of bad songs (and also surprised at how many I have enjoyed). Many of the songs had technical problems (“Dark Horse” would probably work better as two songs), some were just downright sexist (“Rude”). Only one band, though, could create such a song that feels like pins and needles are being shot into my brain.
Ever since the annoying “This Love,” Maroon 5 has been on my most detested bands. Sure, they were responsible for “Moves Like Jagger,” and Adam Levine seems like a decent fellow. But to create a song with such a nails-on-a-chalkboard “hook” (not so much to “hook’ you in; closer to the one Leatherface uses in his basement) is a sin worthy of the ninth circle of hell in song-writing terms. It also doesn’t help that the grating vocals are accompanied by lyrics that sound like they come partly from the perspective of a borderline sexual predator. The party club feel in the music is both fitting, yet at the same time very much ill-fitting for the song. To me, “Animals” is the perfect example of what is wrong with pop music today.
Worst Album Runner-Up
Before I get to my worst album of the year, there is one album that I considered for this spot, but ultimately could not, in my heart of hearts, award this dubious title.
Indie Cindy by The Pixies
It pains me to have an album by one of the best bands of the late-80s/early-90s on this list. Surfer Rosa, and Doolittle are classic albums, Bossanova has some great songs on it, and even Trompe le Monde with its flaws makes for some good listening. If these were the only four albums that the Pixies ever made, then that certainly would have been enough to cement their reputation, if their first two albums didn’t already. Eleven years after their break-up in 1993, the Pixies reunited playing live shows periodically and even doing a few tours. When rumblings started about new material being created, it was certainly exciting news.
Indie Cindy was released in April. I went into the album fully not expecting the old glory days of the Pixies. When I heard the album, though, I was surprised that I heard these songs before. Over the course of seven months prior to the album’s release, the Pixies released three EPs of new material. These three EPs had some decent songs on them, a couple outstanding songs but nothing truly spectacular. Instead of putting only some of these twelve songs on the album and making new ones, the album consisted of these twelve already released songs. Indie Cindy is my runner-up for worst album, not because of the songs on the album, but because of how the album was released. Rather than build up anticipation, they showed their entire hand too early. This ultimately created a disappointingly underwhelming album.
Worst Album
Storytone by Neil Young
Those who have read my previous music review (which you can read here: https://literarilyfilm.wordpress.com/2014/12/06/music-catchup-neil-young-pink-floyd-tv-on-the-radio-and-acdc/ ) will not be surprised that I picked this album for my worst album of 2014. Neil Young’s Storytone is ten songs of half-assed protest songs, overly sentimental ballads, and tired blues each arranged with a big band sound, an orchestra, or a band. While it is a good idea to use different lay-out for each song, the music is seriously mismatched with the lyrics. The two songs of any note, “Who’s Gonna Stand Up?” and “I Want To Drive My Car,” are slightly better than average at best, with the latter sounding like a bit like an exhausted exercise in lazy rock. “Who’s Gonna Stand Up?” sounds like it would work better backed by Crazy Horse, rather than an orchestra.
What is particularly gobsmacking is that the album is under forty minutes, yet is arduously tedious. This tedium is exaggerated further on the second disc of the album which features the same ten songs arranged for solo performance. And there again remains the issue of mismatching the music with the lyrics. A few years ago, Young released Le Noise, a solo album on electric guitar, and toured with the saying “just because it’s solo, doesn’t mean it’s acoustic.” Where was this bravado on Storytone? This type of brashness and passion is seriously missing from the album. In its place, we have Young basically going through the motions and cashing his cheque. And this affront is why I consider it the worst album of 2014.
Next up, we’ll look on the bright side of things and go through the best music of 2014.
Literarily Film 