I went to see The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug recently. I wish I hadn’t. It was essentially shot as though it were some juvenile computer game. Poor acting, too. And a multicultural Dale? What were Jackson and his writers thinking? Poor Tolkien would have had a fit had he known about this god-awful perversion of his simple tale. At least TLOTR trilogy had the feel of Tolkien’s novels. This has little in common with the wonderful tale Tolkien left us. I was mildly disappointed with the first film in the series. I positively HATE the second one and have no intention of wasting my money on a third. Take my advice: read the The Hobbit…don’t watch it. Here’s a great review that covers most of my criticisms.
I’ve been watching a lot of stand-up comedy on Netflix Instant of late. It’s one of those cultural side streets I hadn’t been paying much attention to. Of the performers I’ve sampled, Bill Burr is one of my favorites. He actually made me laugh out loud a few times, which is more than most comedians manage.
Below are two of his better bits, both of which are pretty un-PC. The one on hitting women takes the room to a slightly uncomfortable place, especially when he goes after a heckler. The bit has the thinking-it-out-and-yes-I’m-gonna-go-there quality of a good Game blog post.
Stand-up seems to be one of the few areas of pop culture in which performers can really challenge PC standards. Why do you think that is?
You can catch a couple of full-length Burr performances on Netflix Instant.
Tip o’ th’ hat to UR colleague Eddie Pensier for the “five way” idea.
Here is a 5 way Lush Life. Since it’s a plural thing, make that Lushes’ Life. Or maybeLuscious Life, depending on the arrangement.
Since UR readers are busy people, the five links below are not to the entire song but only to one phrase in it. C’mon, it’ll take only a couple of minutes–play it through.
Life is lonely again,
And only last year everything seemed so sure.
Now life is awful again,
A troughful of hearts could only be a bore.*
Lush Life is a good song from which to snatch phrases since it is one of those songs called “through-composed”, i.e., it is not based on repetitions and is therefore chock full of, or trough filled with, discrete musical phrases.
The song is an interpreter’s dream, and versions vary tremendously, from the hepcat to the dolorous and everything in between. I tend to prefer the latter, and most enjoy the versions that bring out the sadness in the mood and the uncentered strangeness of the music. There are a lot of unexpected chord changes. You could say it changes key a lot but I am not sure it is in a key in the first place. As this web commenter put it, there is “no dominant”. Add to that the verses have varying bar lengths. No AABAs here, no big “come home to momma” resolutions. For these reasons, the song is considered hard to sing, as will be noted below.
First, someone who makes it look and sound easy: Sarah Vaughan.
Next up, Andy Bey’s very downbeat version. He also has the chops to nail the unconventional, shifty melody.
But what if you are not so long on chops, strictly speaking? You can still nail it, if you only know how. Blossom Dearie says that it took her “eleven years to learn” and that “it is difficult to play and even harder to sing.” Despite the fact that her voice is not huge, I think she sounds great.
Yes, if you are not blessed with a huge voice, you have to know how. Here, poor Rickie Lee Jones–a Blossom Dearie wannabe I expect–struggles through the phrase to adoring fans. Heck, she doesn’t worry about hitting the odd notes, she just talks her way through them.
Last, the Chairman of the Board. Here, in an out-take, he tries to get through the phrase and gives up. He laughingly grouses “it’s not only tough enough with the way it is, but he’s got some ‘clydes‘ in there.” He decides to put it on the shelf for a year, but it never made it to vinyl.
*(note that last line: it is listed variously on lyrics sites as “trough full”, “troughful”, “traw full” and “thoughtful”. I always thought it was “truffle”.)
Released in 1957, “Untamed” is an episodic account of a woman’s semi-voluntary trudge towards independence, one that uses the Westernization of Japan as its backdrop. (It’s set during the Taisho period of the early 20th century.) Hideko Takamine — probably Japan’s greatest movie actress — plays the central character, Oshima, as a woman whose lingering adolescence is all mixed up with her moxie; at times it’s not clear whether her willfulness is an outgrowth of immaturity or the result of some deeper drive towards unconventionality. Takamine makes good use of her experience as a child star — she was known as Japan’s Mary Pickford — by allowing hints of the moppet to leak through the adult facade. As she becomes more self-sufficient (and more elegantly coiffed), her mien grows steelier, but it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment at which the girl disappears. Spread over a years-long narrative, with little padding to separate the individual episodes, the performance is like a series of variations, albeit a constrained one; it reminded me of Takamine’s great turn in “Floating Clouds,” but with the peaks and valleys lopped off.
I missed Movember so when I woke up today sporting a four-day stubble I told my wife to chalk it up to Becember rather than sloth. Then I donned my heavy zip up sweatshirt popular with the construction crowd and went out to pick up some things at the local Trader Joe’s.
I didn’t look the part. People like to look good at TJ’s, maybe because it is a good pick up spot for the upper middle class. But I wasn’t looking for action, just coffee and some 19 cent bananas, and so ventured in looking like I was not from the neighborhood.
Very enjoyable small-scale independent teen noir from 2007, played for straightfaced intensity rather than exploitation or yuks. Jonathan Tucker is an arty richkid screwup who’s drawn to Nikki Reed, a dark-haired, witchy charmer from the wrong side of the tracks. Which lover is more in charge of the relationship? Which one can go farther than the other? Darned-good-scene follows darned-good-scene.
The film features a more-than-adequate plot; a fun and game cast; a lot of wickedly self-interested, amoral characters; a shrewd understanding of money, privilege, and class (especially about how the privileged prepare the next generation); and an effectively eerie and sexy mood. It belongs in the same bin as such kids-acting-like-grownups pix as “Brick,” “Cruel Intentions” and “Wild Things.” If it lacks those films’ glossiness and camp, it features loads of determination, psychology, and conviction in their place. Written and directed by Rochester, NY’s Nicholas DiBella, and shot in HD in and around Rochester by an almost-entirely-Rochester-based crew, it’s a very effective and resourceful suspense picture with many poetic and daring touches. “Cherry Crush” left me feeling upbeat, and not just because I enjoyed it as a movie. It also made me feel optimistic about something many filmbuffs have dreamed about: the possibility of a genuine regional feature-film-making culture taking shape. Power to the provinces, baby.
Related
The movie is available on Netflix (though not as Instant View — you’ll have to order the DVD). Amazon Prime members can watch it for free.
Blowhard, Esq.
Callowman
Sherbrooke
Eddie Pensier
Enzo Nakamura
Epaminondas
Fabrizio del Wrongo
Fenster
Brundle Guy
Glynn Marshes
Paleo Retiree
Atypical Neurotic
Question Lady
Sax von Stroheim
Sir Barken Hyena
The Mistaken
