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(04/01/04 4:33am)
It always happens when I see an R-rated movie in the theater. A parent will inevitably bring their child in tow, most likely in lieu of hiring a babysitter. Last week, during a screening of Dawn of the Dead, I couldn't stop watching the interaction between a mother and her son who looked about 8 years old. The child cheered as blood and guts were spilled, and his mother looked at him as if to say "how silly." Midway through the film, there is a short shot of a man and a woman engaging in near-pornographic sex. This shot, upon flashing to the screen, caused the mother to hide her son's eyes with much haste. Did she think seeing a graphically depicted sex act was going to harm her son more than seeing dozens of gunshots to the head and utterances of curse words?\nLet us quickly revisit the already clichéd topic of this year's Super Bowl. As America was collectively glued to the television screen watching one of the most brutal sports in modern times, interspersed with advertisements for alcohol, anti-tobacco propaganda and the Bush re-election campaign, a breast was bared. This breast set off a firestorm of controversy which managed, above all things, to get Howard Stern's classic radio program pulled from many markets. Why was it that no one seemed to care about the countless number of times the two teams' coaches were shown on the sidelines mouthing the word "fuck?" \nWhat is it about the current American culture which has us glorifying death, destruction and profanity, all the while hating and fearing our own bodies and the effect their exposition has on youth? Could it be the stagnant remnants of the Puritan ideology? Be reminded that the Puritans treated sex and nudity as a crime, while gleefully killing Native Americans because they believed it to be God's will. As Hugh Hefner states in his "Playboy Philosophy" (originally published December 1962), "It has long seemed quite incredible -- indeed incomprehensible -- to us that detailed descriptions of murder, which is a crime, are acceptable in our art and literature, while detailed descriptions of sex, which is not a crime, are prohibited. It is as if our society puts hate above love and favors death over life."\nThe Motion Picture Association of America's rating system has molded itself to fit the current national ideology on all things considered obscene. Violence and profanity will never again tag a film with an NC-17 rating. Films like Kill Bill and The Passion of the Christ can pour on brutal violence with no fear of being banned from most national theaters, yet a film like Bernardo Bertolucci's The Dreamers is withheld from national release due to a couple sex scenes and full-frontal nudity shots. This is the sexual revolution of the 1960's in the process of implosion.\nBut let's get back to Howard Stern for a minute. Which is more dangerous to the public? A left-leaning radio program, such as Stern's, which takes humorous jabs at topics ranging from sex to race to flatulating little persons, or a radically right-wing radio show like that of Dr. Laura Schlessinger, which practically preaches intolerance and spite towards anyone who doesn't agree with the host's views? Upon reading Al Franken's latest satirical masterwork "Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right," it seems clearer than ever to me that this nation's moral leaders are more concerned with pushing their own twisted, First Amendment damning agendas than with actually doing anything positive for the nation itself.\nI was raised in a household where R-rated films and MTV were an accepted form of entertainment. I recall seeing Schindler's List at age 11. Am I scarred for life because of it? I certainly don't think so. In fact, I feel, if it has any effect on me, it at least made me understand and accept the ways of the world at a younger age than most. What often happens when parents shelter their children from the outside world is that when their child actually encounters the real world, they go off the deep end.\nA society in which Toby Keith can release an album aggressively advocating the invasion and conquer of foreign nations to little media resistance, yet Bill O'Reilly can lambaste rap star Ludacris for lyrics he believes are scarring the minds of children, is a society which needs to re-evaluate itself (and maybe consider seeking some new leadership). We certainly don't want to become the next Roman Empire, falling due to our own excesses, but let us not repeat the mistakes of those folks in Salem, Mass. in 1692, who vilified and demonized for all the wrong reasons.
(03/25/04 5:00am)
Known primarily for his television commercials featuring sleek foreign cars, director Zack Snyder tries his hand at feature filmmaking with a bold remake of a '70s horror classic. That's some balls for a rookie, but amazingly, he succeeds far beyond expectations. Never before (not even in "28 Days Later") have the living dead seemed so unstoppable and menacing.\nThis time around, the survivors of the zombie plague are again hiding out in a shopping mall, but the allegories of a greedy, consumerist society are non-existent. This film is about pure terror, not social commentary, and Snyder's style of direction suits this cause perfectly. The zombies no longer lumber aimlessly. They attack, like so many rabid animals. We see them not as our former friends and neighbors, but as a literal swarm of concentrated death.\nWe care far more about this cast of characters than those in the 1979 original, and this is because the acting and screenplay in Snyder's version are slightly more adept and believable. The one key aspect of the original which, sadly, did not translate to this film is the hard-hitting, realistic violence. \nThere are heaping helpings of blood spraying, headshots and even an unfortunate chainsaw mishap in the new "Dawn," but never will an audience accustomed to vintage horror flinch or cringe. This is primarily due to the fact that film violence simply doesn't shock us the same way it did when Romero's film was unleashed upon an unsuspecting public 25 years ago. Also, as a general rule, CG gore does not have the same disturbing effect as realistic makeup effects.\nWhile Snyder's re-imagining of Romero's much-heralded zombie flick never quite lives up to the brooding mood of the original, it showcases some splendidly stylized action violence. Experience "Dawn of the Dead" for yourself, and make sure you don't leave until after the last frame of credits.
(03/25/04 5:00am)
Some 25 years after its original theatrical release, George A. Romero's classic splatter film still inspires the same shock and awe it did back in 1978. This second chapter of Romero's groundbreaking "Living Dead" trilogy, the others being "Night of the Living Dead" (1968) and "Day of the Dead" (1985), along with Italian director Lucio Fulci's gorefest "Zombi," defined a new level of violence acceptable in mainstream film. Heads explode, limbs are lost and intestines are torn out with ecstatic glee. This is not a film for even the slightly squeamish.\n"Dawn" concerns a ragtag group of people trying to survive an unknown virus which causes the dead to rise and devour the living. Those partially devoured then rise to devour more unwitting humans. Drawing dually on mankind's innate fear of being eaten alive, as well as the crass consumerism of society (the bulk of the film is set in a shopping mall), Romero crafts a socially conscious horror film of the highest order. It's both frightening and thought provoking.\nBesides the requisite poster galleries and pre-release trailers, this disc contains a revelatory commentary track by director George A. Romero and makeup maven Tom Savini in which the two discuss many cost-effective ways to produce and film effective, low-budget horror.\nFilled to the brim with lumbering undead and resilient survivors, "Dawn of the Dead" is a must-own for any serious horror movie fan.
(03/24/04 9:22pm)
Some 25 years after its original theatrical release, George A. Romero's classic splatter film still inspires the same shock and awe it did back in 1978. This second chapter of Romero's groundbreaking "Living Dead" trilogy, the others being "Night of the Living Dead" (1968) and "Day of the Dead" (1985), along with Italian director Lucio Fulci's gorefest "Zombi," defined a new level of violence acceptable in mainstream film. Heads explode, limbs are lost and intestines are torn out with ecstatic glee. This is not a film for even the slightly squeamish.\n"Dawn" concerns a ragtag group of people trying to survive an unknown virus which causes the dead to rise and devour the living. Those partially devoured then rise to devour more unwitting humans. Drawing dually on mankind's innate fear of being eaten alive, as well as the crass consumerism of society (the bulk of the film is set in a shopping mall), Romero crafts a socially conscious horror film of the highest order. It's both frightening and thought provoking.\nBesides the requisite poster galleries and pre-release trailers, this disc contains a revelatory commentary track by director George A. Romero and makeup maven Tom Savini in which the two discuss many cost-effective ways to produce and film effective, low-budget horror.\nFilled to the brim with lumbering undead and resilient survivors, "Dawn of the Dead" is a must-own for any serious horror movie fan.
(03/24/04 8:36pm)
Known primarily for his television commercials featuring sleek foreign cars, director Zack Snyder tries his hand at feature filmmaking with a bold remake of a '70s horror classic. That's some balls for a rookie, but amazingly, he succeeds far beyond expectations. Never before (not even in "28 Days Later") have the living dead seemed so unstoppable and menacing.\nThis time around, the survivors of the zombie plague are again hiding out in a shopping mall, but the allegories of a greedy, consumerist society are non-existent. This film is about pure terror, not social commentary, and Snyder's style of direction suits this cause perfectly. The zombies no longer lumber aimlessly. They attack, like so many rabid animals. We see them not as our former friends and neighbors, but as a literal swarm of concentrated death.\nWe care far more about this cast of characters than those in the 1979 original, and this is because the acting and screenplay in Snyder's version are slightly more adept and believable. The one key aspect of the original which, sadly, did not translate to this film is the hard-hitting, realistic violence. \nThere are heaping helpings of blood spraying, headshots and even an unfortunate chainsaw mishap in the new "Dawn," but never will an audience accustomed to vintage horror flinch or cringe. This is primarily due to the fact that film violence simply doesn't shock us the same way it did when Romero's film was unleashed upon an unsuspecting public 25 years ago. Also, as a general rule, CG gore does not have the same disturbing effect as realistic makeup effects.\nWhile Snyder's re-imagining of Romero's much-heralded zombie flick never quite lives up to the brooding mood of the original, it showcases some splendidly stylized action violence. Experience "Dawn of the Dead" for yourself, and make sure you don't leave until after the last frame of credits.
(03/11/04 5:00am)
From the director who brought you the beer-soaked '70s stoner saga "Dazed and Confused" comes this tale of a wannabe rock star who educates a group of privileged fifth graders about the glory that is rock music. Dewey Finn, the frenetic Jack Black overtakes the childrens' classroom by pretending to be his substitute teaching roommate, and begins fashioning a rock band from their disparate musical talents. In order to do this he must first teach these children, who've all been raised in uptight, classical-music-only families, the importance of the classic rock 'n' roll of the '60s and '70s.\nRarely does a film hedge all its bets on the talent of actor, but Linklater trusts that Black's rare brand of supercharged, madman comedy will keep viewers entertained for two full hours. Thankfully, Black delivers. Anyone familiar with his work as frontman of Tenacious D, or with that duo's short-lived HBO series, knows what a force of nature he can be. No matter how endearing or delightful the children in "School of Rock" get, Black outshines them at every turn, rendering this film nearly a one man show.\nDisc extras include amusing commentary by Black and director Richard Linklater, as well as a rather unneeded commentary track featuring the film's child stars. Also featured are the hilariously deadpan "MTV Diary of Jack Black" and Black's own plea to the remaining members of Led Zeppelin, in which he publically begs for the rights to feature the band's classic 1970 track, "Immigrant Song," in the film.\nOther than Black himself, the film's best feature is its soundtrack. Tracks from The Who, The Doors, Cream, Led Zeppelin, The Darkness, T Rex and The Ramones are employed to great effect, and the kids' band, fronted by Black, offers up an original song, as well as a hard-charging AC/DC cover. Give this film a look, and raise your goblet of rock.
(03/11/04 5:00am)
I am not a religious man. Regardless of the fact that I was raised in a Lutheran family, attended a parochial school for six years and was both baptized and confirmed, I've ceased adhering to the beliefs which I followed in my youth. Why was it, then, that Mel Gibson's latest film, which concerns the last hours of the life of Jesus Christ, had me in a theater seat on opening day at 4 p.m.? Certainly not faith, since that aspect of my life had faded to black years previous. Curiosity isn't the right word either, though I was admittedly curious to see this labor of love Gibson financed out of pocket and was about to gamble his Hollywood career on. Hope was what actually had me in that seat. The hope that I would be treated to a raw, finely tuned cinematic version of a tale I was first told long ago, and a hope that I would leave the theater thrilled at having seen a great film.\nSurrounded by nearly 300 people who I had to assume were mostly devout believers, I felt alone as the film began. By film's end, I was not alone, having collectively shared an experience with the rest of the audience. \nThis experience was not one of faith or miracles, but one of sheer endurance, and I believe that experience was the exact one Gibson had hoped to bring us. Two solid hours of pain, suffering and gore, interspersed with universal life lessons of love and understanding isn't what most movie-goers would deem popcorn-worthy entertainment. This is not a film to enjoy, but, as I said, it is one to endure.\nAt the end of the day, "The Passion of the Christ" is a just film, not definitive proof of a higher power; just as the word "gospel" literally translates to "good news," and not "the truth" as many believe it to mean. \nThere is a scene in the film where Pilate, the man who sentences Jesus to die, asks the age old question, "Truth? What is truth?" After watching this film, it is clear to me that the truth is whatever a person believes it to be. Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists and all other faiths are convinced that their beliefs are the truth, and therefore, to them, their faith becomes truth.\nWhen I think back to my days at St. Peter's Lutheran School in Columbus, Indiana, I remember being shown images of Jesus on a cross, looking spotless and almost excited to be there. "The Passion" showed me a version of this story which I hadn't seen. One based in buckets of blood, shards of torn skin and, most importantly, the actual language which the people alive at the time spoke. After all, a gratuitous look at the naked brutality of the Middle East in the first century, while it pales in comparison to the car bombs and rocket propelled grenades of today's Middle East, is essential in fully comprehending why the story of Jesus' life and death came about. This was a time of cruelty and hatred where people were in search of something to believe in, and the story of a man who came to their land to spread love and acceptance, and ultimately die violently in order to rectify the misdeeds of everyone was just the panacea these people needed.\nI was always told in grade school that Jesus loved me and died for my sins, and it was comforting. I lost my faith during my middle school years, when I realized that organized religion can be just as easily used for evil as for good. A primary strength of "The Passion" is that it shows both sides of religion to their full extent. We see the evils of the institution in the intolerance of the Romans and Jews alike, which results in the gory torture and death of Jesus, but we also see the positive aspects of what Christianity teaches, in the form of flashbacks of Jesus teaching acceptance and compassion for all people, not just certain factions who happen to believe in a certain deity.\nAs for the outcries of anti-Semitism concerning the film, I don't see the relevance of these claims. Having seen "The Passion" twice now, I understand that the Jewish leaders and Pharisees of the time called out for Christ's crucifixion because it was in their nature to do this, especially in a time when the primary concern of religious leaders was to hold power and prevent uprisings. A man claiming to be the son of God, and making statements like "the meek shall inherit the Earth" was simply a threat to the establishment of the time. The Jewish leaders did what they felt had to be done. Some Christians have certainly held ill will toward Jews because of their depiction in the gospels, but that's simply a pointed reminder of how the negative aspect of religion can breed intolerance. I say to those who are anti-Semitic for this reason, wasn't Jesus' purpose supposedly to come to Earth IN ORDER TO DIE? If so, why does it even matter who killed him?\nIf you haven't seen "The Passion" yet, I would highly recommend a viewing. However, please don't take small children unless your wish is for them to be temporarily mentally scarred. If I had seen this film when I was an eight-year-old, the sheer amount of blood spilled combined with the nightmarish depictions of Satan would have haunted me for weeks.\nIf you are a person of faith, you will no doubt leave the theater inspired and reaffirmed. If you are not religious, you will have experienced what happens when a human being pours 48 years and 25 million dollars worth of fervor and faith into a film. This film is a rare gift from a truly gifted filmmaker.
(03/11/04 12:53am)
I am not a religious man. Regardless of the fact that I was raised in a Lutheran family, attended a parochial school for six years and was both baptized and confirmed, I've ceased adhering to the beliefs which I followed in my youth. Why was it, then, that Mel Gibson's latest film, which concerns the last hours of the life of Jesus Christ, had me in a theater seat on opening day at 4 p.m.? Certainly not faith, since that aspect of my life had faded to black years previous. Curiosity isn't the right word either, though I was admittedly curious to see this labor of love Gibson financed out of pocket and was about to gamble his Hollywood career on. Hope was what actually had me in that seat. The hope that I would be treated to a raw, finely tuned cinematic version of a tale I was first told long ago, and a hope that I would leave the theater thrilled at having seen a great film.\nSurrounded by nearly 300 people who I had to assume were mostly devout believers, I felt alone as the film began. By film's end, I was not alone, having collectively shared an experience with the rest of the audience. \nThis experience was not one of faith or miracles, but one of sheer endurance, and I believe that experience was the exact one Gibson had hoped to bring us. Two solid hours of pain, suffering and gore, interspersed with universal life lessons of love and understanding isn't what most movie-goers would deem popcorn-worthy entertainment. This is not a film to enjoy, but, as I said, it is one to endure.\nAt the end of the day, "The Passion of the Christ" is a just film, not definitive proof of a higher power; just as the word "gospel" literally translates to "good news," and not "the truth" as many believe it to mean. \nThere is a scene in the film where Pilate, the man who sentences Jesus to die, asks the age old question, "Truth? What is truth?" After watching this film, it is clear to me that the truth is whatever a person believes it to be. Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists and all other faiths are convinced that their beliefs are the truth, and therefore, to them, their faith becomes truth.\nWhen I think back to my days at St. Peter's Lutheran School in Columbus, Indiana, I remember being shown images of Jesus on a cross, looking spotless and almost excited to be there. "The Passion" showed me a version of this story which I hadn't seen. One based in buckets of blood, shards of torn skin and, most importantly, the actual language which the people alive at the time spoke. After all, a gratuitous look at the naked brutality of the Middle East in the first century, while it pales in comparison to the car bombs and rocket propelled grenades of today's Middle East, is essential in fully comprehending why the story of Jesus' life and death came about. This was a time of cruelty and hatred where people were in search of something to believe in, and the story of a man who came to their land to spread love and acceptance, and ultimately die violently in order to rectify the misdeeds of everyone was just the panacea these people needed.\nI was always told in grade school that Jesus loved me and died for my sins, and it was comforting. I lost my faith during my middle school years, when I realized that organized religion can be just as easily used for evil as for good. A primary strength of "The Passion" is that it shows both sides of religion to their full extent. We see the evils of the institution in the intolerance of the Romans and Jews alike, which results in the gory torture and death of Jesus, but we also see the positive aspects of what Christianity teaches, in the form of flashbacks of Jesus teaching acceptance and compassion for all people, not just certain factions who happen to believe in a certain deity.\nAs for the outcries of anti-Semitism concerning the film, I don't see the relevance of these claims. Having seen "The Passion" twice now, I understand that the Jewish leaders and Pharisees of the time called out for Christ's crucifixion because it was in their nature to do this, especially in a time when the primary concern of religious leaders was to hold power and prevent uprisings. A man claiming to be the son of God, and making statements like "the meek shall inherit the Earth" was simply a threat to the establishment of the time. The Jewish leaders did what they felt had to be done. Some Christians have certainly held ill will toward Jews because of their depiction in the gospels, but that's simply a pointed reminder of how the negative aspect of religion can breed intolerance. I say to those who are anti-Semitic for this reason, wasn't Jesus' purpose supposedly to come to Earth IN ORDER TO DIE? If so, why does it even matter who killed him?\nIf you haven't seen "The Passion" yet, I would highly recommend a viewing. However, please don't take small children unless your wish is for them to be temporarily mentally scarred. If I had seen this film when I was an eight-year-old, the sheer amount of blood spilled combined with the nightmarish depictions of Satan would have haunted me for weeks.\nIf you are a person of faith, you will no doubt leave the theater inspired and reaffirmed. If you are not religious, you will have experienced what happens when a human being pours 48 years and 25 million dollars worth of fervor and faith into a film. This film is a rare gift from a truly gifted filmmaker.
(03/11/04 12:48am)
From the director who brought you the beer-soaked '70s stoner saga "Dazed and Confused" comes this tale of a wannabe rock star who educates a group of privileged fifth graders about the glory that is rock music. Dewey Finn, the frenetic Jack Black overtakes the childrens' classroom by pretending to be his substitute teaching roommate, and begins fashioning a rock band from their disparate musical talents. In order to do this he must first teach these children, who've all been raised in uptight, classical-music-only families, the importance of the classic rock 'n' roll of the '60s and '70s.\nRarely does a film hedge all its bets on the talent of actor, but Linklater trusts that Black's rare brand of supercharged, madman comedy will keep viewers entertained for two full hours. Thankfully, Black delivers. Anyone familiar with his work as frontman of Tenacious D, or with that duo's short-lived HBO series, knows what a force of nature he can be. No matter how endearing or delightful the children in "School of Rock" get, Black outshines them at every turn, rendering this film nearly a one man show.\nDisc extras include amusing commentary by Black and director Richard Linklater, as well as a rather unneeded commentary track featuring the film's child stars. Also featured are the hilariously deadpan "MTV Diary of Jack Black" and Black's own plea to the remaining members of Led Zeppelin, in which he publically begs for the rights to feature the band's classic 1970 track, "Immigrant Song," in the film.\nOther than Black himself, the film's best feature is its soundtrack. Tracks from The Who, The Doors, Cream, Led Zeppelin, The Darkness, T Rex and The Ramones are employed to great effect, and the kids' band, fronted by Black, offers up an original song, as well as a hard-charging AC/DC cover. Give this film a look, and raise your goblet of rock.
(03/04/04 5:00am)
With the Federal Communications Commission policing the content of television at extreme levels these days, it's amazing that Dave Chappelle's brilliantly racy sketch comedy series has lasted as long as it has. Comedy Central's wise decision to release season one of "Chappelle's Show" on DVD in uncensored form should delight Dave's fans while at the same time twisting Bill O'Reilly's skivvies in knots.\nThe strength of this series lies in its utter lack of fear to embrace and exploit stereotypes as comical yet inherently true. Race, class and gender are treated as springboards for some of the most jaw-droppingly truthful jokes seen in mainstream entertainment since Richard Pryor's controversial stand-up specials of the mid '70s and early 1980's. While watching the 12 episodes included in season one, I am often reminded of one of cinema's greatest and most hotly debated comedies, Mel Brooks' "Blazing Saddles," a film which would scarcely see the light of day if released in today's painfully PC multiplex landscape.\nExtras include 30 minutes of deleted scenes and sketches, semi-insightful commentary on several episodes by Chappelle and co-writer Neal Brennan and a hilarious look deep into the mind of acclaimed comedian Paul Mooney entitled "Ask a Black Dude."\nDave Chappelle's brand of comedy is certainly not for everyone, least of all those offended by constant barrages of cursing, racial slurs and drug humor. However, for those who prefer their laughs with a dual dose of honesty, realism and offbeat randomness, this set is a must.
(03/04/04 4:07am)
With the Federal Communications Commission policing the content of television at extreme levels these days, it's amazing that Dave Chappelle's brilliantly racy sketch comedy series has lasted as long as it has. Comedy Central's wise decision to release season one of "Chappelle's Show" on DVD in uncensored form should delight Dave's fans while at the same time twisting Bill O'Reilly's skivvies in knots.\nThe strength of this series lies in its utter lack of fear to embrace and exploit stereotypes as comical yet inherently true. Race, class and gender are treated as springboards for some of the most jaw-droppingly truthful jokes seen in mainstream entertainment since Richard Pryor's controversial stand-up specials of the mid '70s and early 1980's. While watching the 12 episodes included in season one, I am often reminded of one of cinema's greatest and most hotly debated comedies, Mel Brooks' "Blazing Saddles," a film which would scarcely see the light of day if released in today's painfully PC multiplex landscape.\nExtras include 30 minutes of deleted scenes and sketches, semi-insightful commentary on several episodes by Chappelle and co-writer Neal Brennan and a hilarious look deep into the mind of acclaimed comedian Paul Mooney entitled "Ask a Black Dude."\nDave Chappelle's brand of comedy is certainly not for everyone, least of all those offended by constant barrages of cursing, racial slurs and drug humor. However, for those who prefer their laughs with a dual dose of honesty, realism and offbeat randomness, this set is a must.
(02/26/04 5:00am)
The image is still seared into my brain. February 2003. An uncomfortable-looking jazz pianist who didn't write the majority of her own material holding two armfuls of Grammy Awards which should have been divided up equally between Bruce Springsteen and Eminem. The pianist in question was none other than the daughter of the greatest sitar player in history, Ravi Shankar, without whom the Indian flourishes which graced late-period Beatles albums would not have existed. His daughter's name is Norah Jones, and I, for one, don't understand the phenomenon.\nWhen Norah Jones' debut, a six song EP now called First Sessions, came out in 2001, barely anyone noticed. It contained her future smash hits "Come Away With Me" and "Don't Know Why," but somehow it never caught on. The following year, her proper debut dropped, and still no one noticed. Then, as is always the case, some DJ at some radio station in some major city heard her, and began playing her on his station. Word spread, and suddenly a love for Jones' brand of lethargic, piano bar pop spread like wildfire.\nWhy am I hating on Ms. Jones, you ask? Is it because every single one of her 29 studio tracks make me feel like I've overdosed on NyQuil? Partly. Is it because her live performances seem better suited to the local Borders Bookshop than to Conseco Fieldhouse? Sort of. Is it because every time one of her songs shows up on the radio, I'm compelled to change the station? \nMaybe. But it's primarily due to the fact that I simply can't figure out what the big deal is with this woman, her semi-sultry voice and her modest collection of 200-second snoozer songs. To me, Norah is like the musical version of the sitcom "Friends." Millions unexplainedly adore her, she's alright as background noise, but there doesn't seem to be anything truly worthwhile going on there.\nAt the heart of my beef with Norah is her singular, never-changing sound. Her records seem pigeonholed in mediocrity, and her outstanding popularity further proves the American public's hunger for the mediocre. Watch the Peoples' Choice Awards for more proof of this. Sure, many bands and artists made it big while never straying from a tried and true formula. The Ramones, AC/DC and even Black Sabbath can be accused of this. The difference is those bands never ceased to be exciting, and each new record felt like another rush of blood to the head. Every time I hit the track-skip button on a Norah Jones album, the following song feels just like the one before. Banal, boring and uninspired. And don't even get me started on how Norah's only co-written seven of her songs so far.\nCome Away With Me has sold 18 million units and counting. Its mimeograph of a follow up, Feels Like Home, is closing in on the 2 million mark after only three weeks in release. So why the insatiable appetite for Norah Jones? \nMy theory is the majority of music fans in this nation are just looking for something agreeable and unchallenging. This trend can be seen in the world of film as well. Adam Sandler's "50 First Dates" banked more in its opening weekend than the far superior, and far brainier, Sandler film (well, it's more of a Paul Thomas Anderson film) "Punch-Drunk Love" cost to make AND made at the box-office combined. That is frightening. The majority have ceased the desire to be challenged and inspired by music, and are content to simply be lulled by it. Maybe that's not such a crime in this post-9/11, cell-phone, Hilary Duff, soy latte, "American Idol" nation. Not a crime, but certainly a disappointment.
(02/26/04 5:00am)
"Masked and Anonymous" could well be the most fascinating train wreck I've ever witnessed. Featuring a stunning and seemingly neverending cast, and co-written by a true geniuses of our time (Bob Dylan), the story centers loosely around the organization of a benefit concert which is somehow the focus of the entire post-apocalyptic dystopia in which the film is based. \nAlmost from the first frame, things go the way of most tracks on Dylan's 1966 masterpiece Blonde on Blonde, in which there are thousands of ideas without focus; concepts without coherence; flashes of genius without relevance. While this formula always worked brilliantly on Dylan records, it certainly doesn't work on film. The actors seem lost, and it's obvious that they're only part of this project out of a deep reverence for the screenwriter. \nThere are no hidden, cryptic revelations here as in David Lynch films. The script meanders from one bizarre encounter to the next, and before long it becomes clear the only one who has any idea what's going on in the script or onscreen is Dylan himself.\nThe DVD is not without its positive aspects, including an inspired soundtrack and extended musical performances by Dylan and his backing band featuring mostly original songs. When all is said and done, the general awfulness of the film is nearly redeemed by the grainy, still-haunting world-weariness of Dylan's voice. Any serious Dylan fan would be wise to rent "Masked and Anonymous" out of sheer curiosity.
(02/26/04 3:51am)
"Masked and Anonymous" could well be the most fascinating train wreck I've ever witnessed. Featuring a stunning and seemingly neverending cast, and co-written by a true geniuses of our time (Bob Dylan), the story centers loosely around the organization of a benefit concert which is somehow the focus of the entire post-apocalyptic dystopia in which the film is based. \nAlmost from the first frame, things go the way of most tracks on Dylan's 1966 masterpiece Blonde on Blonde, in which there are thousands of ideas without focus; concepts without coherence; flashes of genius without relevance. While this formula always worked brilliantly on Dylan records, it certainly doesn't work on film. The actors seem lost, and it's obvious that they're only part of this project out of a deep reverence for the screenwriter. \nThere are no hidden, cryptic revelations here as in David Lynch films. The script meanders from one bizarre encounter to the next, and before long it becomes clear the only one who has any idea what's going on in the script or onscreen is Dylan himself.\nThe DVD is not without its positive aspects, including an inspired soundtrack and extended musical performances by Dylan and his backing band featuring mostly original songs. When all is said and done, the general awfulness of the film is nearly redeemed by the grainy, still-haunting world-weariness of Dylan's voice. Any serious Dylan fan would be wise to rent "Masked and Anonymous" out of sheer curiosity.
(02/25/04 3:18pm)
The image is still seared into my brain. February 2003. An uncomfortable-looking jazz pianist who didn't write the majority of her own material holding two armfuls of Grammy Awards which should have been divided up equally between Bruce Springsteen and Eminem. The pianist in question was none other than the daughter of the greatest sitar player in history, Ravi Shankar, without whom the Indian flourishes which graced late-period Beatles albums would not have existed. His daughter's name is Norah Jones, and I, for one, don't understand the phenomenon.\nWhen Norah Jones' debut, a six song EP now called First Sessions, came out in 2001, barely anyone noticed. It contained her future smash hits "Come Away With Me" and "Don't Know Why," but somehow it never caught on. The following year, her proper debut dropped, and still no one noticed. Then, as is always the case, some DJ at some radio station in some major city heard her, and began playing her on his station. Word spread, and suddenly a love for Jones' brand of lethargic, piano bar pop spread like wildfire.\nWhy am I hating on Ms. Jones, you ask? Is it because every single one of her 29 studio tracks make me feel like I've overdosed on NyQuil? Partly. Is it because her live performances seem better suited to the local Borders Bookshop than to Conseco Fieldhouse? Sort of. Is it because every time one of her songs shows up on the radio, I'm compelled to change the station? \nMaybe. But it's primarily due to the fact that I simply can't figure out what the big deal is with this woman, her semi-sultry voice and her modest collection of 200-second snoozer songs. To me, Norah is like the musical version of the sitcom "Friends." Millions unexplainedly adore her, she's alright as background noise, but there doesn't seem to be anything truly worthwhile going on there.\nAt the heart of my beef with Norah is her singular, never-changing sound. Her records seem pigeonholed in mediocrity, and her outstanding popularity further proves the American public's hunger for the mediocre. Watch the Peoples' Choice Awards for more proof of this. Sure, many bands and artists made it big while never straying from a tried and true formula. The Ramones, AC/DC and even Black Sabbath can be accused of this. The difference is those bands never ceased to be exciting, and each new record felt like another rush of blood to the head. Every time I hit the track-skip button on a Norah Jones album, the following song feels just like the one before. Banal, boring and uninspired. And don't even get me started on how Norah's only co-written seven of her songs so far.\nCome Away With Me has sold 18 million units and counting. Its mimeograph of a follow up, Feels Like Home, is closing in on the 2 million mark after only three weeks in release. So why the insatiable appetite for Norah Jones? \nMy theory is the majority of music fans in this nation are just looking for something agreeable and unchallenging. This trend can be seen in the world of film as well. Adam Sandler's "50 First Dates" banked more in its opening weekend than the far superior, and far brainier, Sandler film (well, it's more of a Paul Thomas Anderson film) "Punch-Drunk Love" cost to make AND made at the box-office combined. That is frightening. The majority have ceased the desire to be challenged and inspired by music, and are content to simply be lulled by it. Maybe that's not such a crime in this post-9/11, cell-phone, Hilary Duff, soy latte, "American Idol" nation. Not a crime, but certainly a disappointment.
(02/19/04 5:00am)
Dave Grohl is a busy man these days, with filling various roles in Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age, Killing Joke, Tenacious D and now Probot. \nHe admits in the liner notes of this, his much anticipated side project, that without the massive influence that loud, hard and fast heavy metal music had on him in the 1980's, the only liner notes he'd be penning would be on fast food drive-thru receipts.\nMake no mistake, Probot is pure, unadulterated metal, and not for the faint of heart or sensitive of eardrum. With almost no exceptions, frenetic drumming and hyperdriven bass are the order of the day. Guitars crunch, voices howl and momentum surges forward, all adding up to an album that is infinitely stronger as a whole than if analyzed one track at a time. However, don't miss the wondrous hidden track at the end of the album, "I Am the Warlock," with an uncredited Jack Black spouting his best vocals to date.\nHeavy metal heavyweights including Lemmy Kilmister of Motörhead, King Diamond of Mercyful Fate, Conrad Lant of Venom, Mike Dean of Corrosion of Conformity, Scott Weinrich of the Obsessed, Kurt Brecht of Dirty Rotten Imbeciles, Tom Warrior of Celtic Frost, Denis Belanger of Voivod, Eric Wagner of Trouble, Max Cavalera of Sepultra and Lee Dorrian of Napalm Death lend their voices and cryptic lyrics to music written and played almost completely by Grohl. These combined efforts produce a fully-realized labor of love, the likes of which is rarely seen in today's commercial music landscape ruled by soulless record executives and filled with empty hits and no-talent acts. It is a major credit to Grohl and the esteemed company he keeps that Probot so effortlessly makes listeners long to be smack in the middle of a beer and blood soaked mosh pit in some anonymous underground thrash club.\nOne could argue, if one were so inclined, Grohl's musical talents have now eclipsed that of his former bandmate Kurt Cobain, if only because Grohl's ability to generate such solid material so consistently and in varying genres. If the next Foo Fighters record oozes as much emotion and rocks even half as hard as Probot, prepare for seriously blown minds.
(02/18/04 11:46pm)
Dave Grohl is a busy man these days, with filling various roles in Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age, Killing Joke, Tenacious D and now Probot. \nHe admits in the liner notes of this, his much anticipated side project, that without the massive influence that loud, hard and fast heavy metal music had on him in the 1980's, the only liner notes he'd be penning would be on fast food drive-thru receipts.\nMake no mistake, Probot is pure, unadulterated metal, and not for the faint of heart or sensitive of eardrum. With almost no exceptions, frenetic drumming and hyperdriven bass are the order of the day. Guitars crunch, voices howl and momentum surges forward, all adding up to an album that is infinitely stronger as a whole than if analyzed one track at a time. However, don't miss the wondrous hidden track at the end of the album, "I Am the Warlock," with an uncredited Jack Black spouting his best vocals to date.\nHeavy metal heavyweights including Lemmy Kilmister of Motörhead, King Diamond of Mercyful Fate, Conrad Lant of Venom, Mike Dean of Corrosion of Conformity, Scott Weinrich of the Obsessed, Kurt Brecht of Dirty Rotten Imbeciles, Tom Warrior of Celtic Frost, Denis Belanger of Voivod, Eric Wagner of Trouble, Max Cavalera of Sepultra and Lee Dorrian of Napalm Death lend their voices and cryptic lyrics to music written and played almost completely by Grohl. These combined efforts produce a fully-realized labor of love, the likes of which is rarely seen in today's commercial music landscape ruled by soulless record executives and filled with empty hits and no-talent acts. It is a major credit to Grohl and the esteemed company he keeps that Probot so effortlessly makes listeners long to be smack in the middle of a beer and blood soaked mosh pit in some anonymous underground thrash club.\nOne could argue, if one were so inclined, Grohl's musical talents have now eclipsed that of his former bandmate Kurt Cobain, if only because Grohl's ability to generate such solid material so consistently and in varying genres. If the next Foo Fighters record oozes as much emotion and rocks even half as hard as Probot, prepare for seriously blown minds.
(02/05/04 7:55am)
I'm the first to admit to being a sucker for award shows. No matter how hokey, silly or self-serving they may be, something about them draws me in, and I end up watching, stunned, like a deer in headlights.\nNo award ceremony entrances me more than the first, oldest and most prestigious of any in the entertainment industry -- the Oscars. Regardless of any injustices carried out by Oscar in the past ("Shakespeare in Love" defeating "Saving Private Ryan" for Best Picture in 1999; a total lack of love for Martin Scorsese), these awards manage to be the most legitimate ass-kissing ritual in Hollywood.\nThis year's Oscars are setting themselves up to be the most satisfying in recent memory. Heavyweights such as "The Return of the King" and "Pirates of the Carribean" will go head to head against the likes of indie gems "Lost in Translation" and "City of God." Who will triumph? Other than the Best Animated Short Film, Best Live Action Short Film and Best Short Subject Documentary categories (of which I cannot claim to have seen any of the nominated films), I believe I've got it figured out.
(02/05/04 5:00am)
Starsailor's second album, Silence is Easy, which follows on the heels of 2002's somewhat superior Love is Here, is a pompous display of production. How fitting that former reclusive genius/current charged murderer Phil Spector was at the helm during much of the album's creation. Spector's patented Wall of Sound, which has ruined just as many records as it's improved, appears here in the form of constant onslaughts of stringed instruments. Most of these instruments overshadow anything else that might be going on underneath.\nMost of the album seems mired in the old-fashioned sensibility that all songs must be about generic love, be it requited or unrequited. The tracks "Fidelity," "Bring My Love," "Restless Heart" and "Four to the Floor" all contain the sort of syrupy-sweet lyrics and vocals that would feel at home in an old school Journey ballad. Though, they seem forced and tacky on a record by a band with the potential of Starsailor. The title track is the finest moment here, with frontman James Walsh repeating the line "Silence is easy, it just becomes me," as Phil Spector's work behind the boards seems to somberly predict his own fate.\nAt the close of its 40 minutes, it becomes apparent that while Silence is Easy may be a very easy album to casually enjoy, it's by no means easy to respect.
(02/05/04 5:00am)
I'm the first to admit to being a sucker for award shows. No matter how hokey, silly or self-serving they may be, something about them draws me in, and I end up watching, stunned, like a deer in headlights.\nNo award ceremony entrances me more than the first, oldest and most prestigious of any in the entertainment industry -- the Oscars. Regardless of any injustices carried out by Oscar in the past ("Shakespeare in Love" defeating "Saving Private Ryan" for Best Picture in 1999; a total lack of love for Martin Scorsese), these awards manage to be the most legitimate ass-kissing ritual in Hollywood.\nThis year's Oscars are setting themselves up to be the most satisfying in recent memory. Heavyweights such as "The Return of the King" and "Pirates of the Carribean" will go head to head against the likes of indie gems "Lost in Translation" and "City of God." Who will triumph? Other than the Best Animated Short Film, Best Live Action Short Film and Best Short Subject Documentary categories (of which I cannot claim to have seen any of the nominated films), I believe I've got it figured out.