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(08/24/06 4:00am)
Encompassing over a calendar year of principal photography in the Philippines and nearly two years of post-production in director Francis Ford Coppola's Zoetrope labs, 1979's "Apocalypse Now" remains one of the few greatest cinematic achievements of all time. Based on Joseph Conrad's 1902 story "Heart of Darkness," "Apocalypse" delves into the dark heart of man versus man and the ugly, subversive politics of war. It succeeds better than any film before or since.\nI can't pretend that "Apocalypse Now" isn't my personal favorite film. I'm about as unbiased as Cindy Sheehan's support for Ned Lamont here, but I don't believe my praise is without merit. Martin Sheen, Frederic Forrest, Sam Bottoms, Albert Hall, and a 15-year-old Laurence Fishburne are all spectacular as persons on a Navy patrol boat bound for foggy Cambodia in search of the rogue Colonel Kurtz, embodied by an omnipresent Marlon Brando. Robert Duvall also blows minds in his brief tenure as the fanatical Lt. Col. Kilgore. Vittorio Storaro's dreamlike cinematography and Walter Murch's Moog-inspired sound design courtesy of Carmine Coppola's haunting score establish a pervasive ethereal mood.\nIf there's any single reason to reissue this classic, other than to shine up the transfer and optimize the 5.1 audio, it's to finally have both the 153-minute 1979 original edit and the 202-minute "Redux" cut from 2001 in the same release. It's continually regrettable that movies shot in 2.35:1 are being compromised into 16:9 because of the widescreen television craze, but "Apocalypse" doesn't suffer terribly from this affliction considering Coppola and Storaro personally supervised the cropping process. Nonetheless, the film looks and sounds better than it ever has, and continues to stand as the ultimate cinematic representation of the madness of modern warfare.\nThe most significant feature on this set is the commentary track by Coppola, slightly altered for the "Redux" cut to include thoughts on the added scenes. All told, it's more than 200 minutes of new insight from a man who lived the comprehensive hell that was the making of "Apocalypse Now". It's more valuable than any documentary, although the glaring omission of "Hearts of Darkness" (the definitive yet out-of-print doc on the film's grueling production process) because of legal complications is slightly distressing. That being said, there are several enlightening mini-docs here concerning most facets of post-production and sound design, as well as a host of grainy deleted scenes, and even a 17-minute dramatic reading of T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men" by Marlon Brando.\nThirty minutes into the "Redux" commentary track, Coppola refers to his film as "a journey into the surreal." During the hallucinatory carnage of the Do Lung Bridge sequence later in the film, when hippie surfer Lance drops acid and twisted carnival music intrudes, the surreality almost comes into focus. War is hell, they say, but in "Apocalypse Now" it's something worse. In a world where the gasoline stench of napalm smells like victory, no one really wins, and home is never really home again.
(08/24/06 2:30am)
Encompassing over a calendar year of principal photography in the Philippines and nearly two years of post-production in director Francis Ford Coppola's Zoetrope labs, 1979's "Apocalypse Now" remains one of the few greatest cinematic achievements of all time. Based on Joseph Conrad's 1902 story "Heart of Darkness," "Apocalypse" delves into the dark heart of man versus man and the ugly, subversive politics of war. It succeeds better than any film before or since.\nI can't pretend that "Apocalypse Now" isn't my personal favorite film. I'm about as unbiased as Cindy Sheehan's support for Ned Lamont here, but I don't believe my praise is without merit. Martin Sheen, Frederic Forrest, Sam Bottoms, Albert Hall, and a 15-year-old Laurence Fishburne are all spectacular as persons on a Navy patrol boat bound for foggy Cambodia in search of the rogue Colonel Kurtz, embodied by an omnipresent Marlon Brando. Robert Duvall also blows minds in his brief tenure as the fanatical Lt. Col. Kilgore. Vittorio Storaro's dreamlike cinematography and Walter Murch's Moog-inspired sound design courtesy of Carmine Coppola's haunting score establish a pervasive ethereal mood.\nIf there's any single reason to reissue this classic, other than to shine up the transfer and optimize the 5.1 audio, it's to finally have both the 153-minute 1979 original edit and the 202-minute "Redux" cut from 2001 in the same release. It's continually regrettable that movies shot in 2.35:1 are being compromised into 16:9 because of the widescreen television craze, but "Apocalypse" doesn't suffer terribly from this affliction considering Coppola and Storaro personally supervised the cropping process. Nonetheless, the film looks and sounds better than it ever has, and continues to stand as the ultimate cinematic representation of the madness of modern warfare.\nThe most significant feature on this set is the commentary track by Coppola, slightly altered for the "Redux" cut to include thoughts on the added scenes. All told, it's more than 200 minutes of new insight from a man who lived the comprehensive hell that was the making of "Apocalypse Now". It's more valuable than any documentary, although the glaring omission of "Hearts of Darkness" (the definitive yet out-of-print doc on the film's grueling production process) because of legal complications is slightly distressing. That being said, there are several enlightening mini-docs here concerning most facets of post-production and sound design, as well as a host of grainy deleted scenes, and even a 17-minute dramatic reading of T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men" by Marlon Brando.\nThirty minutes into the "Redux" commentary track, Coppola refers to his film as "a journey into the surreal." During the hallucinatory carnage of the Do Lung Bridge sequence later in the film, when hippie surfer Lance drops acid and twisted carnival music intrudes, the surreality almost comes into focus. War is hell, they say, but in "Apocalypse Now" it's something worse. In a world where the gasoline stench of napalm smells like victory, no one really wins, and home is never really home again.
(08/24/06 2:04am)
When the Internet buzz over "Snakes on a Plane" started this past spring, most everyone assumed the film would either be so totally over-the-top it would rival "Bad Boys II" for pure popcorn ridiculousness, or be just another formula horror flick that somehow managed to grab a big-name actor to generate box-office revenue. David R. Ellis' much-hyped "Snakes" actually manages to be a little bit of both, with a healthy dose of "Scream"-style self-deprecation thrown in for good measure. Think Jules Winnfield meets "Anaconda" at 40,000 feet.\n As for the particulars, Samuel L. Jackson is an FBI agent in charge of escorting a critical witness (Nathan Phillips) on a flight from Hawaii to Los Angeles to offer his testimony in court. Those he plans to testify against are none too happy about it, and decide to release several hundred ill-tempered snakes on- you know it - the plane. The snakes are released, passengers are attacked and Jackson goes into hero mode. From there on, "Snakes" plays on two of humankind's greatest post-9/11 fears: commercial air travel and deadly serpents\n The fact is that without the presence of Jackson in the lead role, this movie wouldn't work, nor would the massive hype have surrounded it in the first place. Sans Sam, we'd have just another Sci-Fi Channel original movie of the month to grapple with. Jackson, as Neville Flynn, bleeds the same intensity that made some of his most memorable characters (Zeus Carver, Elijah Prince, Mr. SeZor Love Daddy) memorable, and you can tell he's having a damn good time starring in a movie with no critical expectations.\nIt's also thankful that, once the buzz began to overtake this movie, Ellis and Jackson decided to reshoot for an R-rating, since it's difficult to imagine "Snakes" at PG-13. It would be like watching "Friday the 13th Part V" on TNT; all machete swinging and no gore or bare breasts in sight. At least now we have snakes biting every conceivable body part and couples eagerly joining the mile-high club.\nSpeaking of the snakes themselves, the special effects don't look nearly as bad as one might assume, though Industrial Light & Magic they are not. Some of the snakes look more realistic than others, and a few look as cartoonish as the shoddiest work Roger Corman ever puked up. Fortunately, the limitations of a grainy theater screen give most of this a pass, but DVD should be far less kind.\n In many ways, "Snakes on a Plane" is the perfect cult movie that people might still be watching years from now. In other ways, it's the perfect straight-to-video cable original that could end up on shelves beside such classics as "Boa vs. Python," "Mansquito" and "Chupacabra: Dark Seas." The difference, heightened production values aside, is Sam Jackson, and while his claim at this year's MTV Movie Awards that "Snakes" will win Best Movie in 2007 are doubtful, he's a virtual lock for Best Male Performance.
(08/03/06 4:00am)
Old school rap took a giant leap towards rolling with the new when Eric B. and Rakim's Paid in Full began vibrating dorm room walls and Brooklyn sidewalks in the fall of 1987. Showcasing both DJ Eric Barrier's genre-defining turntable skills and production and William Griffin's nearly unmatched rhyming prowess, the New York City duo's debut hit big upon it's initial release, and was recently named the greatest hip hop album of all time by MTV.\nGreatest hip hop album of all time is stretching it a little, but Paid in Full certainly belongs in the top 20. Unlike most groundbreaking rap albums of the early-to-mid 80's, it's just as aesthetically pleasing as it is exponentially influential. Countless rappers and hip hop beatmakers owe Eric B. and Rakim for a large portion of their sound. Rakim's vocal style and multi-syllabic rhymes gave birth to everyone from Eminem and Black Thought of the Roots to Tupac and Mos Def. Eric B's soundscapes sketched the blueprint for post-Paul's Boutique Beastie Boys and occasionally seemed to encapsulate what would eventually become rap-rock.\nNearly all 10 tracks on the record are primed to blow your speakers (and your mind if you'll let them). "I Ain't No Joke," "My Melody" and "I Know You Got Soul" were the hits, but "As the Rhyme Goes On" and the title track are Barrier and Griffin at their best. Barrier gets some time to himself on "Eric B. is on the Cut" and "Extended Beat," backing up praise citing him as one of the best DJs of his era.\nThe only misstep on a record full of solid tracks is "Chinese Arithmetic," on which Eric B. crams as many stereotypical far-eastern sounds into four minutes as humanly possible while scratching a rather annoying and repetitive cut over a beat that gets too old too fast. Barrier may've foretold Wu-Tang's fascination with Asian mythology that would come seven years later, but while the Clan were always reverent in their employment of such mythology, "Chinese Arithmetic" comes off as subversively racist as a Charlie Chan flick.\nAlongside Run DMC's Raising Hell, LL Cool J's Radio, and De La Soul's Three Feet High and Rising, Paid in Full is one of the best few old school rap albums to arrive before the rise of gangsta elements such as Public Enemy, N.W.A. and Ice-T. Rap would, in a sense, lose it's innocence by the time It Takes a Nation... and Straight Outta Compton dropped in '88 and '89 respectively, yet Eric B. and Rakim would continue to carry the banner of the old guard, fueled by the success and influence of Paid in Full.
(08/03/06 4:00am)
By the end of Barbet Schroeder's brief 1978 documentary on Koko, a female gorilla being taught sign language and other aspects of human communication on the campus of Stanford University from her birth in 1971 to this very day, I had fallen in love with the noble beast. Filmed in secret as to avoid legal troubles with the San Francisco Zoo (which technically owned Koko at the time of filming), Schroeder's chronicle asks many tough questions, such as if a gorilla being raised in a humanistic environment has any significant rights, or if raising a creature in such a way is ethical.\nWe're not given any answers, despite Koko's caretaker Penny Patterson's passionate arguments in support of Koko's urban upbringing. Patterson is the most prevalent human presence in the film, and to watch her interact with Koko is to watch a mother with her young child. We learn early on that Koko routinely scores only slightly lower on visual aptitude tests than a human child of her exact age. She recognizes herself as a gorilla in the mirror, and is able to sign over 500 individual words. We look into her eyes and see a cognizant recognition that's simply not present in other animals. It's as if Koko is making her own case for the evolutionary chain being shorter than we know.\nThere is a fascination with Koko that develops by the midway point in Schroeder's film that's hard to resist, and there's always an undercurrent of tension in that at any time the San Francisco Zoo could take Koko from Penny and place her back in true captivity. Ultimately, though, the film is structured very similarly to a National Geographic special, and there's no true filmmaking flair. No matter, since the focus is Koko alone.\nThe only extra on the Criterion Collection's release is a 10-minute interview with Schroeder from this year concerning his feelings on the film and on Koko herself. His thoughts place the movie in a deeper context of human drama and animal rights, but it seems far too brief a reminiscence, and you're left wondering why there are no updates on Koko and Penny today. Still, there are two superb essays included in the edition's 14-page booklet, one from critic Gary Indiana and another homage by Marguerite Duras.\nSchroeder's film is important because it called attention to a young gorilla caught in the continuum between man and nature. The ultimate question posed within these 80 minutes is whether man is somehow dominant over nature, or if we are in fact simply a small part of nature. To observe Koko's actions and mannerisms, even at such a young age, is to realize how undeniable the connection between primates and humans truly is.
(08/02/06 7:29pm)
By the end of Barbet Schroeder's brief 1978 documentary on Koko, a female gorilla being taught sign language and other aspects of human communication on the campus of Stanford University from her birth in 1971 to this very day, I had fallen in love with the noble beast. Filmed in secret as to avoid legal troubles with the San Francisco Zoo (which technically owned Koko at the time of filming), Schroeder's chronicle asks many tough questions, such as if a gorilla being raised in a humanistic environment has any significant rights, or if raising a creature in such a way is ethical.\nWe're not given any answers, despite Koko's caretaker Penny Patterson's passionate arguments in support of Koko's urban upbringing. Patterson is the most prevalent human presence in the film, and to watch her interact with Koko is to watch a mother with her young child. We learn early on that Koko routinely scores only slightly lower on visual aptitude tests than a human child of her exact age. She recognizes herself as a gorilla in the mirror, and is able to sign over 500 individual words. We look into her eyes and see a cognizant recognition that's simply not present in other animals. It's as if Koko is making her own case for the evolutionary chain being shorter than we know.\nThere is a fascination with Koko that develops by the midway point in Schroeder's film that's hard to resist, and there's always an undercurrent of tension in that at any time the San Francisco Zoo could take Koko from Penny and place her back in true captivity. Ultimately, though, the film is structured very similarly to a National Geographic special, and there's no true filmmaking flair. No matter, since the focus is Koko alone.\nThe only extra on the Criterion Collection's release is a 10-minute interview with Schroeder from this year concerning his feelings on the film and on Koko herself. His thoughts place the movie in a deeper context of human drama and animal rights, but it seems far too brief a reminiscence, and you're left wondering why there are no updates on Koko and Penny today. Still, there are two superb essays included in the edition's 14-page booklet, one from critic Gary Indiana and another homage by Marguerite Duras.\nSchroeder's film is important because it called attention to a young gorilla caught in the continuum between man and nature. The ultimate question posed within these 80 minutes is whether man is somehow dominant over nature, or if we are in fact simply a small part of nature. To observe Koko's actions and mannerisms, even at such a young age, is to realize how undeniable the connection between primates and humans truly is.
(08/02/06 7:20pm)
Old school rap took a giant leap towards rolling with the new when Eric B. and Rakim's Paid in Full began vibrating dorm room walls and Brooklyn sidewalks in the fall of 1987. Showcasing both DJ Eric Barrier's genre-defining turntable skills and production and William Griffin's nearly unmatched rhyming prowess, the New York City duo's debut hit big upon it's initial release, and was recently named the greatest hip hop album of all time by MTV.\nGreatest hip hop album of all time is stretching it a little, but Paid in Full certainly belongs in the top 20. Unlike most groundbreaking rap albums of the early-to-mid 80's, it's just as aesthetically pleasing as it is exponentially influential. Countless rappers and hip hop beatmakers owe Eric B. and Rakim for a large portion of their sound. Rakim's vocal style and multi-syllabic rhymes gave birth to everyone from Eminem and Black Thought of the Roots to Tupac and Mos Def. Eric B's soundscapes sketched the blueprint for post-Paul's Boutique Beastie Boys and occasionally seemed to encapsulate what would eventually become rap-rock.\nNearly all 10 tracks on the record are primed to blow your speakers (and your mind if you'll let them). "I Ain't No Joke," "My Melody" and "I Know You Got Soul" were the hits, but "As the Rhyme Goes On" and the title track are Barrier and Griffin at their best. Barrier gets some time to himself on "Eric B. is on the Cut" and "Extended Beat," backing up praise citing him as one of the best DJs of his era.\nThe only misstep on a record full of solid tracks is "Chinese Arithmetic," on which Eric B. crams as many stereotypical far-eastern sounds into four minutes as humanly possible while scratching a rather annoying and repetitive cut over a beat that gets too old too fast. Barrier may've foretold Wu-Tang's fascination with Asian mythology that would come seven years later, but while the Clan were always reverent in their employment of such mythology, "Chinese Arithmetic" comes off as subversively racist as a Charlie Chan flick.\nAlongside Run DMC's Raising Hell, LL Cool J's Radio, and De La Soul's Three Feet High and Rising, Paid in Full is one of the best few old school rap albums to arrive before the rise of gangsta elements such as Public Enemy, N.W.A. and Ice-T. Rap would, in a sense, lose it's innocence by the time It Takes a Nation... and Straight Outta Compton dropped in '88 and '89 respectively, yet Eric B. and Rakim would continue to carry the banner of the old guard, fueled by the success and influence of Paid in Full.
(07/27/06 4:00am)
When Kevin Smith misfires, he misfires big. When he hits his target, be prepared to laugh your silly ass off. With many of his fans still left with the sour taste of "Jersey Girl" and about half of "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" in their mouths, Smith returns to his roots with a sequel to the film that made him famous. Thankfully, "Clerks II" is an exercise in Smith firing on all cylinders in terms of both his writing and his direction of physical comedy. It's also his best movie since the original "Clerks."\nAfter a disastrous fire at the Quick Stop, Dante and Randal are now employed at Mooby's, and joining them are sexy manager Becky (a never-hotter Rosario Dawson) and uber-Christian Transformers fanboy Elias (hilarious newcomer Trevor Fehrman). Hanging around outside, as always, are Jay and Silent Bob, who are afforded many of the film's best gags. Until you've seen Jason Mewes strutting his stuff to Q Lazzarus' "Goodbye Horses," you've not lived.\nThe real star of "Clerks II" is, appropriately, the dialogue. As crass and wildly profane as it is, this could well be the best screenplay Smith has written. Superstar cameos, a Tijuana donkey show and even a choreographed dance sequence to the Jackson 5 all whizz by for our amusement, but none feel quite as true as the extended, eloquent conversations about everything from the merits of the Lord of the Rings films vs. the Star Wars saga to an extended exchange about racial slurs that goes on far too long to be benign, but left me stunned in its wake after five solid minutes of gut-bursting laughs.\nTrevor Fehrman shines as Elias, a sheltered 19-year-old goofball whose mind is ripe for Randal to poison. One of the film's best scenes finds Elias telling a tale of terror about a troll that he's been told resides in his girlfriend's nether-regions, complete with music from "The Shining." It's irreverent, slightly disturbing moments like this that abound in "Clerks II," and every one feels fresh and wholly original. \nLike in all Smith movies, some things just don't work. The casting of Smith's real-life wife as Dante's fiancee is regrettable, and a completely unironic trip to the local Go Kart track proves a litte too twee for comfort. Sadly, O'Halloran and Anderson still can't act their way out of a Mooby's sack, but these are only minor quibbles with a movie that will have most people rolling. \nThere's the love story involving Dante and his fiancee, and another one involving Dante and Becky, but the real love story is that of Dante and Randal (not in a gay way, as they so frequently swear). Smith injects a shot of tenderness into the film's concluding scenes that feels amazingly genuine. It's the perfect conclusion to Dante and Randal's story, and it's the only time a Kevin Smith film has ever rendered me misty-eyed.
(07/26/06 7:55pm)
When Kevin Smith misfires, he misfires big. When he hits his target, be prepared to laugh your silly ass off. With many of his fans still left with the sour taste of "Jersey Girl" and about half of "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" in their mouths, Smith returns to his roots with a sequel to the film that made him famous. Thankfully, "Clerks II" is an exercise in Smith firing on all cylinders in terms of both his writing and his direction of physical comedy. It's also his best movie since the original "Clerks."\nAfter a disastrous fire at the Quick Stop, Dante and Randal are now employed at Mooby's, and joining them are sexy manager Becky (a never-hotter Rosario Dawson) and uber-Christian Transformers fanboy Elias (hilarious newcomer Trevor Fehrman). Hanging around outside, as always, are Jay and Silent Bob, who are afforded many of the film's best gags. Until you've seen Jason Mewes strutting his stuff to Q Lazzarus' "Goodbye Horses," you've not lived.\nThe real star of "Clerks II" is, appropriately, the dialogue. As crass and wildly profane as it is, this could well be the best screenplay Smith has written. Superstar cameos, a Tijuana donkey show and even a choreographed dance sequence to the Jackson 5 all whizz by for our amusement, but none feel quite as true as the extended, eloquent conversations about everything from the merits of the Lord of the Rings films vs. the Star Wars saga to an extended exchange about racial slurs that goes on far too long to be benign, but left me stunned in its wake after five solid minutes of gut-bursting laughs.\nTrevor Fehrman shines as Elias, a sheltered 19-year-old goofball whose mind is ripe for Randal to poison. One of the film's best scenes finds Elias telling a tale of terror about a troll that he's been told resides in his girlfriend's nether-regions, complete with music from "The Shining." It's irreverent, slightly disturbing moments like this that abound in "Clerks II," and every one feels fresh and wholly original. \nLike in all Smith movies, some things just don't work. The casting of Smith's real-life wife as Dante's fiancee is regrettable, and a completely unironic trip to the local Go Kart track proves a litte too twee for comfort. Sadly, O'Halloran and Anderson still can't act their way out of a Mooby's sack, but these are only minor quibbles with a movie that will have most people rolling. \nThere's the love story involving Dante and his fiancee, and another one involving Dante and Becky, but the real love story is that of Dante and Randal (not in a gay way, as they so frequently swear). Smith injects a shot of tenderness into the film's concluding scenes that feels amazingly genuine. It's the perfect conclusion to Dante and Randal's story, and it's the only time a Kevin Smith film has ever rendered me misty-eyed.
(07/20/06 4:00am)
Sufjan Stevens' Illinois was an unassuming masterpiece. It was also an unlikely one, with 12-word song titles, extended instrumental flourishes and clocking in at nearly 80 minutes with 22 tracks on a single disc. The good news is, there's more. Nearly reaching 80 minutes, and crammed with 21 tracks itself, The Avalanche lives up to its namesake, inundating the Sufjan faithful with a substantive shower of outtakes, extras, faux b-sides and alternate takes leftover from his 2005 breakthrough.\nAfter traveling to Highland, Jacksonville, Decatur, Chicago, Rock River Valley, Godfrey and Bushnell on the album proper, Stevens takes detours to Springfield, McClure, Kaskasia, Crystal Lake and Pittsfield on this collection, and no less than nine of these 21 tracks belong rightfully on the original record.\nNo one I know asked for three more versions of "Chicago," but we get them here. An acoustic, adult-contemporary and White Stripes-ian version are all on display, but that's forgivable with mini-epics like "Springfield (or Bobby Got a Shadfly Caught in his Hair)" and "Pittsfield" alongside. Despite his flair for impressive arrangements, it remains Stevens' voice that propels his compositions forward. Not even a ridiculous, juvenile attempt at an electric guitar solo on "Shadfly" can reduce the impact of Stevens' vocals, and "Pittsfield" could well be the saddest and most fragile thing he's recorded thus far.\nSufjan's lighter side surfaces on the upbeat "Dear Mr. Supercomputer" and "The Henney Buggy Band," both of which are reminiscent of "Come On! Feel The Illinoise!" and "The Man Of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts" on Illinois. "Adlai Stevenson" and "Saul Bellow" are both literate ruminations on historical Prairie State figures, but "The Mistress Witch from McClure (or The Mind That Knows Itself)," "No Man's Land" and "The Avalanche" dig right to the heart of what Stevens is striving for with his overwhelming 50 States project; getting to the bottom of what makes America(na) tick via heartfelt songs about the trivial as well as the monumental.\nWhatever Stevens' music may or may not reveal about himself and his own tortured, tender soul, the fact that this collection of supposed throwaways from his last studio endeavor surpasses 97% of all other musicians' choicest cuts reveals Sufjan himself to be a songwriter and arranger of an extremely elevated order. When someone packs even their most frivolous cuts with this much emotion and forethought, they afford themselves the right to employ pretentious nomenclature.
(07/19/06 5:32pm)
Sufjan Stevens' Illinois was an unassuming masterpiece. It was also an unlikely one, with 12-word song titles, extended instrumental flourishes and clocking in at nearly 80 minutes with 22 tracks on a single disc. The good news is, there's more. Nearly reaching 80 minutes, and crammed with 21 tracks itself, The Avalanche lives up to its namesake, inundating the Sufjan faithful with a substantive shower of outtakes, extras, faux b-sides and alternate takes leftover from his 2005 breakthrough.\nAfter traveling to Highland, Jacksonville, Decatur, Chicago, Rock River Valley, Godfrey and Bushnell on the album proper, Stevens takes detours to Springfield, McClure, Kaskasia, Crystal Lake and Pittsfield on this collection, and no less than nine of these 21 tracks belong rightfully on the original record.\nNo one I know asked for three more versions of "Chicago," but we get them here. An acoustic, adult-contemporary and White Stripes-ian version are all on display, but that's forgivable with mini-epics like "Springfield (or Bobby Got a Shadfly Caught in his Hair)" and "Pittsfield" alongside. Despite his flair for impressive arrangements, it remains Stevens' voice that propels his compositions forward. Not even a ridiculous, juvenile attempt at an electric guitar solo on "Shadfly" can reduce the impact of Stevens' vocals, and "Pittsfield" could well be the saddest and most fragile thing he's recorded thus far.\nSufjan's lighter side surfaces on the upbeat "Dear Mr. Supercomputer" and "The Henney Buggy Band," both of which are reminiscent of "Come On! Feel The Illinoise!" and "The Man Of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts" on Illinois. "Adlai Stevenson" and "Saul Bellow" are both literate ruminations on historical Prairie State figures, but "The Mistress Witch from McClure (or The Mind That Knows Itself)," "No Man's Land" and "The Avalanche" dig right to the heart of what Stevens is striving for with his overwhelming 50 States project; getting to the bottom of what makes America(na) tick via heartfelt songs about the trivial as well as the monumental.\nWhatever Stevens' music may or may not reveal about himself and his own tortured, tender soul, the fact that this collection of supposed throwaways from his last studio endeavor surpasses 97% of all other musicians' choicest cuts reveals Sufjan himself to be a songwriter and arranger of an extremely elevated order. When someone packs even their most frivolous cuts with this much emotion and forethought, they afford themselves the right to employ pretentious nomenclature.
(07/13/06 4:00am)
Bob Dylan's John Wesley Harding is one of the most fascinating albums in the history of rock and roll for one simple reason. Dylan had released five of the most important and influential albums imaginable from 1963 to 1966, and ended up in self-imposed exile after a near-fatal motorcycle accident 40 years ago this month. Instead of dying in the crash; after which his mythologized status would've grown exponentially with the likes of Hendrix, Lennon, Shakur, Cobain, Wallace, Joplin and Morrison; Dylan survived, heading back into the studio less than a year after the crash.\nDylan's voice less harsh, his lyrics less scathing and hallucinatory and the production and arrangements as comfortably folksy as a quiet night on a country front porch with sweet tea in hand, John Wesley Harding marked the first new direction for Bob since he shocked the shit out of diehard folkies by plugging his guitar in and hiring a band two years before. It would not be Dylan's last re-invention, but it may well have been his most startling. Country music overtones, slide guitar and songs about drifters and wicked landlords are about as far from visions of Johanna as Dylan could've ventured in 1967, and it's to his extreme credit that he pulled it off as convincingly as he did.\nJimi Hendrix and Dave Matthews Band may've rocketed it onto an astral plane, but "All Along the Watchtower" is still a Bob Dylan song at heart. Amazingly, it only feels like an afterthought on an album with compositions like "I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine," Down Along the Cove" and "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight." There are no lofty lyrical experiments or 10-minute epics on Harding, and it's refreshing to see Dylan enjoying himself after five tiring years of being America's premiere wiseass genius. If "Desolation Row" was his sprawling, literate lament on the current state of America during the beat era, "I Pity the Poor Immigrant" is his return the country's innocent origins; both much needed fresh starts after so much witnessed and lived through.\nHis career would never again reach the heights it saw in the years before this record, and the incessantly fervent lyricism and imagination present in those past classic albums would only resurface briefly in the mid-70's on Blood on the Tracks and Desire, but Dylan proved with John Wesley Harding that a horrific accident could keep his legend temporarily down but never out.
(07/13/06 4:00am)
Pearl Jam's "VH1 Storytellers" installment that aired the week before last was typically poignant for said series, but there was one moment that overshadowed all the rest. Near the end of the program, Eddie Vedder introduced a cover of Phil Ochs' "Here's to the State of Mississippi" that tore the Bush Administration a new asshole and brought a tear to my eye. Independence Day wasn't far off, and understanding that nothing was more inherently American than dissent, I was inspired to piece together my list of the top 12 protest songs ever sung.\nTHE LIST:\n1. (tie) Bob Dylan - "Masters of War" / "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" / "The Times They Are A-Changin'" (1963, 1964) All written and recorded in 1963 and 1964, these three Dylan originals defined the modern protest song. Railing literately against warmongers, impending nuclear war and national responsibility shifting from parents to children, these tracks convey a furious anger by way of Dylan's already gruff voice and assured acoustic strumming.\n2. Bob Marley & the Wailers - "Redemption Song" (1980) Nothing less than an indictment of old-school thought and remaining vestiges of slavery throughout the world, this short acoustic track from Marley's final album remains his most affecting call to arms; a call that had the power to instill fear in governments.\n3. Ten Years After -- "I'd Love to Change the World" (1971) Forget "For What It's Worth" and "Fortunate Son." This track from British blues-rock outfit Ten Years After is the real sound of the world imploding in the midst of the Vietnam conflict, with blazing guitar solos giving way to an appeal to the U.S. Senate to call off the madness.\n4. N.W.A - "Fuck tha Police" (1989) Still a right-wing talking point of controversy 17 years later, N.W.A.'s diatribe against crooked LAPD officers placed the group at the forefront of rap music, and rendered Ice Cube, MC Ren and Easy-E the African-American equivalents of Tom Joad. Dr. Dre's production is, as always, both energizing and superbly catchy.\n 5. Marvin Gaye - "What's Going On" (1971) One of the prettiest anti-war songs ever recorded finds Marvin Gaye lamenting brother killing brother and invoking that ancient appeal for love to conquer hate. Motown was never more relevant.\n6. Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young - "Ohio" (1970) When four college students were murdered and nine injured by the Ohio National Guard during a Vietnam conflict protest at Kent State University in Ohio, CSNY fired back with this sobering lament for a nation gone wrong. The pained calls of "Why? How many more?" that closes the track rings true with every soldier killed in Iraq.\n7. The Clash -- "Death or Glory" (1979) Who knows exactly what they were speaking out against on this classic track from London Calling. No matter what their cause, Joe Strummer and company are at their melodically hellraising best here.\n8. Eminem -- "White America" (2002) Marshall Mathers finally let it all hang out on this opening track from his third album by lashing out against the government, his critics, censorship, racism and record companies all with unparalleled lyricism, production and flow.\n9. Rage Against the Machine -- "Guerilla Radio" (1999) Rage built their career on thumbing their noses at the system, but this track from their final LP packed all the rage into one concise packing, boiling over with searing invective against election fraud and governmental corruption.\n10. Guns N' Roses -- "Civil War" (1991) The most significant statement Axl Rose ever made begins with a soundbite from "Cool Hand Luke" and established itself as the best anti-war song ever penned by a former 80's hair-metal act.\n11. Pink Floyd -- "Two Suns in the Sunset" (1983) It's certainly the most subtle song on the list, but Roger Waters' bleak vision of a man-made nuclear apocalypse is also a scathing condemnation of man's senseless war against himself.\n12. (tie) Sex Pistols -- "Anarchy in the UK" / "God Save the Queen" (1977) They didn't invent punk, but Johnny Rotten and Sid Vicious were its first truly controversial figures, and they injected these two tracks off their only proper studio album with a bitter, angry sense of malice against complacent British life.
(07/12/06 3:56pm)
Pearl Jam's "VH1 Storytellers" installment that aired the week before last was typically poignant for said series, but there was one moment that overshadowed all the rest. Near the end of the program, Eddie Vedder introduced a cover of Phil Ochs' "Here's to the State of Mississippi" that tore the Bush Administration a new asshole and brought a tear to my eye. Independence Day wasn't far off, and understanding that nothing was more inherently American than dissent, I was inspired to piece together my list of the top 12 protest songs ever sung.\nTHE LIST:\n1. (tie) Bob Dylan - "Masters of War" / "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" / "The Times They Are A-Changin'" (1963, 1964) All written and recorded in 1963 and 1964, these three Dylan originals defined the modern protest song. Railing literately against warmongers, impending nuclear war and national responsibility shifting from parents to children, these tracks convey a furious anger by way of Dylan's already gruff voice and assured acoustic strumming.\n2. Bob Marley & the Wailers - "Redemption Song" (1980) Nothing less than an indictment of old-school thought and remaining vestiges of slavery throughout the world, this short acoustic track from Marley's final album remains his most affecting call to arms; a call that had the power to instill fear in governments.\n3. Ten Years After -- "I'd Love to Change the World" (1971) Forget "For What It's Worth" and "Fortunate Son." This track from British blues-rock outfit Ten Years After is the real sound of the world imploding in the midst of the Vietnam conflict, with blazing guitar solos giving way to an appeal to the U.S. Senate to call off the madness.\n4. N.W.A - "Fuck tha Police" (1989) Still a right-wing talking point of controversy 17 years later, N.W.A.'s diatribe against crooked LAPD officers placed the group at the forefront of rap music, and rendered Ice Cube, MC Ren and Easy-E the African-American equivalents of Tom Joad. Dr. Dre's production is, as always, both energizing and superbly catchy.\n 5. Marvin Gaye - "What's Going On" (1971) One of the prettiest anti-war songs ever recorded finds Marvin Gaye lamenting brother killing brother and invoking that ancient appeal for love to conquer hate. Motown was never more relevant.\n6. Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young - "Ohio" (1970) When four college students were murdered and nine injured by the Ohio National Guard during a Vietnam conflict protest at Kent State University in Ohio, CSNY fired back with this sobering lament for a nation gone wrong. The pained calls of "Why? How many more?" that closes the track rings true with every soldier killed in Iraq.\n7. The Clash -- "Death or Glory" (1979) Who knows exactly what they were speaking out against on this classic track from London Calling. No matter what their cause, Joe Strummer and company are at their melodically hellraising best here.\n8. Eminem -- "White America" (2002) Marshall Mathers finally let it all hang out on this opening track from his third album by lashing out against the government, his critics, censorship, racism and record companies all with unparalleled lyricism, production and flow.\n9. Rage Against the Machine -- "Guerilla Radio" (1999) Rage built their career on thumbing their noses at the system, but this track from their final LP packed all the rage into one concise packing, boiling over with searing invective against election fraud and governmental corruption.\n10. Guns N' Roses -- "Civil War" (1991) The most significant statement Axl Rose ever made begins with a soundbite from "Cool Hand Luke" and established itself as the best anti-war song ever penned by a former 80's hair-metal act.\n11. Pink Floyd -- "Two Suns in the Sunset" (1983) It's certainly the most subtle song on the list, but Roger Waters' bleak vision of a man-made nuclear apocalypse is also a scathing condemnation of man's senseless war against himself.\n12. (tie) Sex Pistols -- "Anarchy in the UK" / "God Save the Queen" (1977) They didn't invent punk, but Johnny Rotten and Sid Vicious were its first truly controversial figures, and they injected these two tracks off their only proper studio album with a bitter, angry sense of malice against complacent British life.
(07/12/06 3:44pm)
Bob Dylan's John Wesley Harding is one of the most fascinating albums in the history of rock and roll for one simple reason. Dylan had released five of the most important and influential albums imaginable from 1963 to 1966, and ended up in self-imposed exile after a near-fatal motorcycle accident 40 years ago this month. Instead of dying in the crash; after which his mythologized status would've grown exponentially with the likes of Hendrix, Lennon, Shakur, Cobain, Wallace, Joplin and Morrison; Dylan survived, heading back into the studio less than a year after the crash.\nDylan's voice less harsh, his lyrics less scathing and hallucinatory and the production and arrangements as comfortably folksy as a quiet night on a country front porch with sweet tea in hand, John Wesley Harding marked the first new direction for Bob since he shocked the shit out of diehard folkies by plugging his guitar in and hiring a band two years before. It would not be Dylan's last re-invention, but it may well have been his most startling. Country music overtones, slide guitar and songs about drifters and wicked landlords are about as far from visions of Johanna as Dylan could've ventured in 1967, and it's to his extreme credit that he pulled it off as convincingly as he did.\nJimi Hendrix and Dave Matthews Band may've rocketed it onto an astral plane, but "All Along the Watchtower" is still a Bob Dylan song at heart. Amazingly, it only feels like an afterthought on an album with compositions like "I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine," Down Along the Cove" and "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight." There are no lofty lyrical experiments or 10-minute epics on Harding, and it's refreshing to see Dylan enjoying himself after five tiring years of being America's premiere wiseass genius. If "Desolation Row" was his sprawling, literate lament on the current state of America during the beat era, "I Pity the Poor Immigrant" is his return the country's innocent origins; both much needed fresh starts after so much witnessed and lived through.\nHis career would never again reach the heights it saw in the years before this record, and the incessantly fervent lyricism and imagination present in those past classic albums would only resurface briefly in the mid-70's on Blood on the Tracks and Desire, but Dylan proved with John Wesley Harding that a horrific accident could keep his legend temporarily down but never out.
(07/06/06 4:00am)
High school is hard -- especially so if you're a buck-toothed recovering alcoholic and drug addict pushing 50. Jerri Blank, played with an equal mixture of pity and pitifulness by comedienne Amy Sedaris, is the physical embodiment of what happens when you disregard those after school specials and D.A.R.E. visits as a teen. A self-described "boozer, loser, and user," Jerri moves back in with her family after a stint in prison, and ends up back at her old high school. Populated with such oddities as Chuck Noblet (writer and co-creator Stephen Colbert), Geoffrey Jellineck (co-creator Paul Dinello), and bass-voiced Principal Onyx Blackman (Greg Hollimon), Jerri's new life might even be stranger than her old one.\nComedy Central took a gamble airing this show, which seems innocent and coy on the surface, but actually deals with Jerri's former coke-whore existence with a cold frankness. Colbert and Dinello are hilarious as caring and supportive school faculty, but it's Greg Hollimon's Principal Blackman whose appearance and actions elicit laughs nearly 100% of the time. Sedaris, almost invisible in her Jerri costume and makeup, is a television comic talent on par with her brother David in the literary field, and despite "Strangers with Candy's" occasional dips into inane sarcasm and scatological humor, it hits its mark more often than not.\nExtras abound on this complete series set, but are mostly aimed at diehard fans of the show. Sedaris, Colbert, and Dinello provide off-the-wall commentary on nine of the 30 episodes, and the original unaired pilot episode is a neat find. Extras range from the trivial (an irreverent blooper reel) to the bizarre (a film strip presentation by Colbert and Dinello's characters, a compilation of the show's surreal end-credit dance-offs) and full-circle to the informative (a 45-minute Museum of Television & Radio interview with the entire cast).\n"Strangers with Candy" belongs in the same bin with many of Comedy Central's critically acclaimed shows that were cancelled due to either low ratings or mega-star meltdowns. With a big-screen version of "Strangers" arriving this summer, it's advisable for fans of this quirky, long-lost Comedy Central gem to revisit Jerri Blank and her spirit-lifting, always somewhat creepy adventures in high school.
(07/05/06 7:20pm)
High school is hard -- especially so if you're a buck-toothed recovering alcoholic and drug addict pushing 50. Jerri Blank, played with an equal mixture of pity and pitifulness by comedienne Amy Sedaris, is the physical embodiment of what happens when you disregard those after school specials and D.A.R.E. visits as a teen. A self-described "boozer, loser, and user," Jerri moves back in with her family after a stint in prison, and ends up back at her old high school. Populated with such oddities as Chuck Noblet (writer and co-creator Stephen Colbert), Geoffrey Jellineck (co-creator Paul Dinello), and bass-voiced Principal Onyx Blackman (Greg Hollimon), Jerri's new life might even be stranger than her old one.\nComedy Central took a gamble airing this show, which seems innocent and coy on the surface, but actually deals with Jerri's former coke-whore existence with a cold frankness. Colbert and Dinello are hilarious as caring and supportive school faculty, but it's Greg Hollimon's Principal Blackman whose appearance and actions elicit laughs nearly 100% of the time. Sedaris, almost invisible in her Jerri costume and makeup, is a television comic talent on par with her brother David in the literary field, and despite "Strangers with Candy's" occasional dips into inane sarcasm and scatological humor, it hits its mark more often than not.\nExtras abound on this complete series set, but are mostly aimed at diehard fans of the show. Sedaris, Colbert, and Dinello provide off-the-wall commentary on nine of the 30 episodes, and the original unaired pilot episode is a neat find. Extras range from the trivial (an irreverent blooper reel) to the bizarre (a film strip presentation by Colbert and Dinello's characters, a compilation of the show's surreal end-credit dance-offs) and full-circle to the informative (a 45-minute Museum of Television & Radio interview with the entire cast).\n"Strangers with Candy" belongs in the same bin with many of Comedy Central's critically acclaimed shows that were cancelled due to either low ratings or mega-star meltdowns. With a big-screen version of "Strangers" arriving this summer, it's advisable for fans of this quirky, long-lost Comedy Central gem to revisit Jerri Blank and her spirit-lifting, always somewhat creepy adventures in high school.
(06/29/06 4:00am)
"Syriana" is a tough nut to crack. After three viewings I'm still not sure who the good guys are, who the bad guys are, and how all the pieces fit together. That is exactly the point, and writer/director Stephen Gaghan pulls it all off with the deliberate assurance of a spreading terminal cancer; a cancer of oil addiction, terrorism and governmental corruption which everyone involved is powerless to cure.\nGaghan is no stranger to penning sprawling character mosaics mired in politics and ulterior motives. His screenplay for "Traffic" (one of the best films of the last 10 years) won him an Oscar in 2001, and Syriana's screenplay won him a nomination earlier this year. As with "Traffic," which dealt deftly with the war on drugs, "Syriana" pulls no punches in its exploration of another war in progress; that of oil companies vs. the American people and Middle East in tandem.\nThe ensemble cast, including George Clooney (who won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor), Jeffrey Wright, Matt Damon, Chris Cooper, William Hurt, Tim Blake Nelson, Amanda Peet, Christopher Plummer and Alexander Siddig, is uniformly spot-on. Robert Elswit's cinematography is poignant in its shaky ambivalence and use of light and shadow, and editor Tim Squyres works magic with myriad plotlines and subtle character arcs. From a purely technical standpoint, "Syriana" is nearly flawless.\nMany conservatives will denounce "Syriana" because it portrays homegrown terrorists in a less than despicable light. An equal number of liberals and progressives will denounce it because it treats oil barons, government spies and the military infrastructure with the same leniency. As the cast and crew explain throughout the special features, one's political affiliation is hardly relevant when it comes to the dependence we as Americans have on oil. Striving to ween ourselves off the substance will, in time, become as inherently American as ranch dressing and jazz-rock.\nThere are only about 20 minutes of special features included on this disc and, despite the fact the film is so dense that it hardly speaks for itself upon an initial viewing, that's alright. Alongside three deleted scenes that become lost in the opaque layers of the rest of the film, there are two mini-docs included. The first is a brief but lively discussion with producer/star George Clooney concerning his weight gain, Arabic language lessons, world travel and feelings that Gaghan's screenplay is the true star of the film. The second is a slightly meatier rumination on how the movie palpably and alarmingly highlights real world issues that need fixing regardless of one's political affiliation.\n"Syriana" functions not only as a cautionary tale, but as a engaging piece of dense dramatic cinema. While never overtly explained in the film itself, the title "Syriana" is apparently a term coined by the U.S. government and the oil industry to denote an ideal Middle Eastern state. How our government and the oil companies in it's pocket define such a state is debatable, while the only fact that is absolute is that we must curb our dependence on oil usage and carbon dioxide emissions before we gloriously self-implode.
(06/29/06 1:12am)
"Syriana" is a tough nut to crack. After three viewings I'm still not sure who the good guys are, who the bad guys are, and how all the pieces fit together. That is exactly the point, and writer/director Stephen Gaghan pulls it all off with the deliberate assurance of a spreading terminal cancer; a cancer of oil addiction, terrorism and governmental corruption which everyone involved is powerless to cure.\nGaghan is no stranger to penning sprawling character mosaics mired in politics and ulterior motives. His screenplay for "Traffic" (one of the best films of the last 10 years) won him an Oscar in 2001, and Syriana's screenplay won him a nomination earlier this year. As with "Traffic," which dealt deftly with the war on drugs, "Syriana" pulls no punches in its exploration of another war in progress; that of oil companies vs. the American people and Middle East in tandem.\nThe ensemble cast, including George Clooney (who won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor), Jeffrey Wright, Matt Damon, Chris Cooper, William Hurt, Tim Blake Nelson, Amanda Peet, Christopher Plummer and Alexander Siddig, is uniformly spot-on. Robert Elswit's cinematography is poignant in its shaky ambivalence and use of light and shadow, and editor Tim Squyres works magic with myriad plotlines and subtle character arcs. From a purely technical standpoint, "Syriana" is nearly flawless.\nMany conservatives will denounce "Syriana" because it portrays homegrown terrorists in a less than despicable light. An equal number of liberals and progressives will denounce it because it treats oil barons, government spies and the military infrastructure with the same leniency. As the cast and crew explain throughout the special features, one's political affiliation is hardly relevant when it comes to the dependence we as Americans have on oil. Striving to ween ourselves off the substance will, in time, become as inherently American as ranch dressing and jazz-rock.\nThere are only about 20 minutes of special features included on this disc and, despite the fact the film is so dense that it hardly speaks for itself upon an initial viewing, that's alright. Alongside three deleted scenes that become lost in the opaque layers of the rest of the film, there are two mini-docs included. The first is a brief but lively discussion with producer/star George Clooney concerning his weight gain, Arabic language lessons, world travel and feelings that Gaghan's screenplay is the true star of the film. The second is a slightly meatier rumination on how the movie palpably and alarmingly highlights real world issues that need fixing regardless of one's political affiliation.\n"Syriana" functions not only as a cautionary tale, but as a engaging piece of dense dramatic cinema. While never overtly explained in the film itself, the title "Syriana" is apparently a term coined by the U.S. government and the oil industry to denote an ideal Middle Eastern state. How our government and the oil companies in it's pocket define such a state is debatable, while the only fact that is absolute is that we must curb our dependence on oil usage and carbon dioxide emissions before we gloriously self-implode.
(06/22/06 4:00am)
Released nearly in tandem with Sam Peckinpah's "The Wild Bunch" in 1969, George Roy Hill's "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" replaces that film's brutal violence and questionable characters with light humor and a far more likeable band of wrongdoers led by the already iconic Paul Newman and a fresh-faced Robert Redford in one of his first high-profile starring roles.\nCommencing with one of the most effective character introductions in modern movie history, it's not long before Paul Newman is free-spiritedly cavorting on a bicycle to B.J. Thomas' "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head." Therein lies both the fundamental problem and key strength of the film; essentially a revisionist western and buddy picture that turns the tables on previous genre conceptions while poking fun (sometimes too much fun and with too many one-liners for its own good) at both the genres and itself.\nWith luminescent cinematography from Conrad L. Hall and a punchy, spry script by William Goldman, "Butch" is a joy to watch, even if its humor becomes a bit cloying after an hour or so. Newman and Redford bubble over with the star quality that knighted the film box office platinum, and the plot never becomes overwrought or bogged down in unnecessary details. A classic example of American revisionism of the western mystique, "Butch" belongs on the shortlist of late 1960's classics, but the company it resides near on the American Film Institute's Top 100 Films list ("Clockwork Orange," "Taxi Driver," "Jaws," "Amadeus," "Vertigo") greatly overshadows it.\nDisc 1 boasts insightful commentary from director Hill and screenwriter Goldman, as well as invaluable input from the late cinematographer Hall, and Disc 2 of this set doesn't skimp on the features. The excellent 2005 making-of documentary "All Of What Follows is True" is accompanied by a similar but lesser 1994 doc, while cast interviews from 1994 shed more light on the film, but one can't help but wish Redford and Newman had agreed to share more of their thoughts on the film in 2006. Two more worthy docs, "The Wild Bunch: The True Tale of Butch & Sundance" and "History Through the Lens: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Outlaws Out of Time" reveal just how much of the film is based on fact while offering up interesting tidbits on the real-life outlaws on which the film was patterned.\nHill, Newman, and Redford would collaborate again four years later on "The Sting," where they actually seemed like they were having more fun that they did here. Listed at #50 on the AFI's list of the greatest films ever made, "Butch" is unquestionably overrated, especially in retrospect, but that doesn't change the fact that it's still an incredibly well-made and enjoyable sliver of Americana.