Record: Katatonia 'Dead End Kings' (2012)

I've been a massive Katatonia fan for just under a day now, and it's mostly down to this (their most recent) record. I saw them live last week opening for Opeth and liked them (especially Nille, because holy **** I want a grey Warwick LX 5 just like his), but was too caught up in being psyched about seeing Mendez & Åkerfeldt et al live for the first time to really get into these guys. Until I got past Watershed  and The Raven That Refused To Sing in my stack of to-listen discs and tossed this one on my work playlist this morning. Ten hours and three-point-five full listens later... I love it. I love it so much I don't even know what to do. It's like everything that's bad for me in one gloriously, self-indulgently, bleakly-bespattered-with-carrion-birds package delivered by deliciously gloomy Swedish deliverymen with, collectively, at least a mile of hair over their faces. It's like going on a diet of only things that are unhealthy but also unspeakably delicious. It's like - fuck, just go listen to it already. You know you want to, and anyway I can't concentrate on writing this review anymore because I need to go and listen to Dead Letters again.

Film: 'Cat People' (1982)

This is one of those things that you start watching because it's on Netflix and you're too sleep deprived to realize it's a terrible idea. I mean, apart from Nastassja Kinski being really pretty, this film has absolutely nothing to recommend it. It doesn't even have a good soundtrack, despite Bowie singing the theme song.  I'm a pretty big fan of Malcolm McDowell and his impressive talent for being able to make a movie scary just by looking at the camera, but even he couldn't do anything much with this part. I honestly couldn't tell you why I watched the entire thing. In retrospect I would have been better off sitting through The Hunger again...  I'd hoped to enjoy the plentiful footage of great wild cats in the New Orleans Zoo, the film's main setting, but their horrible cement enclosures inspired much more in the way off horror than anything else about this so-called horror film did. I'd also hoped for the sort of colourful campiness so common in sort-of-horror films made throughout the decade, but what I ended up getting was an upsettingly prurient male power fantasy. Ugh.

Recommendation: don't waste your time on this shameful example of WTF Cinema (unless you really, really want to see Ms. Kinski get naked for no reason and kill a little bunny rabbit with her teeth, which is nowhere near as sexy as it sounds); hunt down a copy of the original and much classier Cat People film, made in 1942 and starring the inimitable Simone Simon.

The 1982 trailer

The 1942 trailer:

Film: 'The Song Remains The Same' (1976)

I'd like to propose that this film be renamed 'The Jimmy Page Show.' Because seriously? Jimmy Page, you guys! Dragon pants and all.

There's really nothing like seeing a band live to make one appreciate them, and, if live isn't a possibility, film is a fair substitute. Despite the cheesy '70s special effects and the peculiar 'fantasy sequences,' this fair substitute did a mighty fine job of convincing me that Zeppelin does indeed rule.

Book: Mary Doria Russell 'Doc' (2011)

This is a beautiful book. I've been a Russell fan since her extraordinary novel The Sparrow (and a Doc Holliday fan since Tombstone), and I am awed by the graceful manner of her writing about one of the great legends of the Old West. Perhaps the most striking feature of this story is that it is not a western. Yes, it holds cowboys, gunfights, gamblers, swinging saloon doors,  horses, hookers, and dust and death in Dodge within its pages - all the proper elements of all the best western tales - and yet the author maintains a certain level of class in her literary perspective, refusing to glorify or glamourise events that are traditionally written up as the most thrilling of adventures. Her sympathetic though far from saintly portrayal of the life and times of John Henry Holliday, D.D.S., feels very little like a grand heroic adventure tale and very much like a sad story about a sick man, far from home and surrounded by strangers who barely even speak the same language he does. Somehow she manages to make that story feel poignant rather than maudlin,  imparting a startling atmosphere of realism to a story about someone who is usually relegated to the larger-than-life pantheon of gritty  hardboiled American Heroes.

Book: Art & Laurie Pepper 'Straight Life' (1980)

 I like this book a lot. I think it's kind of rare to read an autobiography by someone who did so many stupid things and is completely willing to be up front about them. It's also kind of nice, for a change, to read a book by a junkie who doesn't try to foist the blame for that off on someone else - and a junkie musician who doesn't try to blame the collapse of his career on anyone other than himself. That kind of honesty is wonderfully refreshing. I also appreciate getting some understanding of where the music I listen to comes from, and, in between the fascinatingly (and horrifyingly) detailed descriptions of life in San Quentin, there are some equally fascinating descriptions of what the scene that produced a lot of my favourite records was like. Probably not a book for the faint of heart, but then again I've read worse. The quality of the text is excellent - his wife, Laurie, did a terrific job transcribing the taped interviews and keeping the tone authentic; I also really like the way she interspersed the bits by Art and his friends and family with old articles from Down Beat. It's a very well crafted book.

It wouldn't make much sense to read a book about a musician without hearing some of his music. I recommend checking these records out:
Playboys (1956) [with Chet Baker]
Art Pepper Meets The Rhythm Section (1957)
Art Pepper +Eleven (1959)
Straight Life (1979) [title track on youtube]

 

Book: 'The Cloud of Unknowing'

I love getting to read books I would never have found on my own. As a happy antitheist, I would definitely not have discovered this one had it not been lent to me - which would have been a shame, because it's quite a fascinating work. I find it completely absorbing to try and understand why believing sorts of people believe in what things they believe in. It's an interesting experience to discuss faith with someone who can articulate their beliefs in a way that makes sense, rather than just garbling out recycled propaganda. Such folk seem to be few and far between, but I think this anonymous Medieval author must have been exactly that type. The sheer beauty of their phrasing, and the analogies they draw, bring a certain appealing logic to a subject which I usually find completely appalling. It's particularly lovely how their lessons make it clearer than ever to me that, deep down, nearly all religions are founded on the same basic ideas (I read this side by side with a text on Shinto, and marvelled, despite the differences in their surface trappings, at the uncanny similarities between Eastern mysticism and Christian mysticism).

I did feel a slight sense of loss in the translation from Middle English to modern English. Though Dr. Butcher did a bang-up job recreating the comfortable and familiar attitude of the original text, which (at least in the little I've read here) reads like a letter to a close and beloved friend, I can't help feeling a bit thrown off by her use of modern colloquialisms. For we particularly nerdy readers, there might be more joy in reading an untranslated edition with the aid of a Middle English dictionary.

Film: 'On Any Sunday' (1971)

This is a really lovely film. Directed and narrated by the brilliant Bruce Brown, king of the surf movie, it captures a few glorious, golden (and sometimes mud-stained) moments in the exhilarating world of motorcycle racing. From the surreal beauty of the Bonneville salt flats to the frigid wastes of Quebec in winter; from Florida to Spain; from thigh-deep mudholes to the 30-degree banks of the Daytona speedway, on any Sunday, someone, somewhere, is racing - some to win, some for the hell of it, some because they can, and some because they can't imagine doing anything else. As a fan of both two-wheeled vehicles and those very sweet-natured early-'70s sports documentaries, I delighted in the joyful tone of Brown's celebration of all levels of racing, from the mesmerisingly hair-raising high speed AMA championship events to the ridiculously silly (though still hair-raising) Widowmaker hill climb event. Whether or not you care much for motorbikes or racing, I think it's nearly always a pleasure to watch people who are very, very good at something perform, and this is a prime example of why:

Summer Reading

I made this list for a friend, and thought it might be of interest to anyone else who doesn't know what to read next. If that's you (or if you, like me, are always looking to increase your reading list), here are 10 books (in no particular order) you might like to check out this summer: 

1. I'll Never Get Out Of This World Alive by Steve Earle. [If you only read one novel this summer, make it this one. It's extraordinarily lovely.]

2. archy and mehitabel by Don Marquis. [Marvelous light reading if you've a fondness for century-old pop-culture witticisms and wickedness disquised as whimsicality.]

3. The End of the Line by Charles Clover. [If you only read one work of nonfiction this summer, make it this one. Fascinating, motivating, and tragically relevant. Please read it (and make everyone else read it, too).]

4. The Lady in the Lake by Raymond Chandler. [A prime example of why Mr. Chandler remains, for many of us, the king of the detective novel. I recommend reading this in a hammock while sipping a highball.]

5. Shutting Out the Sun: How Japan Created Its Own Lost Generation by Michael Zielenziger. [This is really interesting - especially if you've any interest in psychology, East Asia, global economics, and/or the really f*cked-up bits of modern societies and how they make sane people act crazy.]

6. Thousand Cranes by Kawabata Yasunari. [Probably my personal favourite Japanese novel (so far, anyhow). Slender, elegant, and bittersweet - a perfect read for a cool summer evening spent outdoors and alone.]

7. Kill Your Boyfriend by Grant Morrison, Philip Bond, & D'Israeli. [This is my all-time favourite comic book. Stylish, snappy, horrifying, hilarious, and, weirdly, kinda heartwarming. Strong storytelling and beautiful artwork.]

8. Moonfleet by John Meade Falkner. [A classic adventure novel. Smugglers, treasure, backgammon, England, scoundrels, thieves, rats, and the sea... If you love Treasure Island, don't miss this! An especial favorite of my Dad and myself.]

9. Thomas the Rhymer by Ellen Kushner. [If you happen to like fantasy novels, this one is particularly good. Kushner is an elegant stylist and a masterful storyteller.]

10. Lost Horizon by James Hilton. [This appeared rather mysteriously on my bookshelf, and, not one to turn my nose up at magically appearing books, I have been thoroughly enjoying it. Another classic, best known for originating 'Shangri-La,' this is surprisingly thoughtful for a paperback adventure romance. Delightfully '30s, and charmingly British in a slightly antiquated sort of a way.]

Film: 'Versus' (2000)

Despite this film's near-total lack of acting, dialogue, and a plot, it remains one of the most compulsively watchable I've seen. Is it the zombies? The thugs? The zombie thugs? All I can say is that I've seen this movie more times than I'm willing to admit, and will be seeing it at least that many times again. I watch it whenever I'm feeling down; how could anyone fail to feel better when faced with swords, guns, and leather-clad prettyboys kicking zombie heads off? This is comfort cinema at its very best.

Despite the fact that, lacking a plot, the movie goes from one fight scene to the next with almost nothing in between, the beautiful and rather dreamy choreography makes it feel like an arty Yakuza-themed ballet rather than non-stop murderous violence. Endearingly sweet-faced tough guy Sakaguchi Taku stars as an amnesiac escaped convict with an unerring eye for fashion (even if he has to rob a corpse or three to complete his 'look'), who never loses a fight and has no compunctions whatsoever about hitting girls. Toss in a reincarnated megalomaniac, a bizarre duo of extraordinarily dumb detectives, and a creeptastic 'Forest of Resurrection' where even the dead keep on fighting, and somehow that all adds up to the most enjoyable action movie since - um - actually, I can't think of any other action films as enjoyable as this one (not even Terminator 2, or the countless Van Damme and Lundgren flicks that were my bad-day blanket movies before I discovered Versus). I think this is as good as the genre gets.

Record: Rhonda Smith 'Intellipop' (2000)

It's no secret that, as a rule, I harbor grave suspicions regarding 'funk' and the so-called and much-maligned 'mainstream' popular music. Rules being made to be broken, I wasn't particularly surprised when singer & bassist Rhonda Smith smashed that one to pieces with her mighty Mesa-powered tone and almost miraculous ability to look gorgeous even while clad in bright yellow. [Seriously. How does she even do that?! No one looks good in yellow.] Despite the unavoidably funky pop style of this record, I find myself unable to turn it off (or stop hitting 'replay'). The unusually tasteful arrangements and even more unusually tasteful lyrics keep me coming back for another listen, as do the skillfully complex basslines lurking in the background of the deliciously atmospheric mix. Though a few loudmouthed (and tasteless, and possibly hearing-impaired) critics have disparaged her naturalistic, unpolished singing style and relative lack of vocal pyrotechniques, I would argue that the understated vocal lines and slightly unusual timbre of her voice are all the more captivating for their (minor) imperfections.

Check this classy lady out:

Film: 'Hobo with a Shotgun' (2011)

For some reason known only to herself (in her defense, I think it had to do with our curiosity regarding the local film industry), my kid sister bought this on DVD as a Crimbomas gift for the whole family. And what a family film it is...
...
...What am I talking about?! It's totally not a family film. Unless you're raising your family on a steady diet of the Sams (Peckinpah & Raimi, obviously), in which case your kids will have a healthy appreciation for the respectable volume of red paint splashed all over the streets of F*ck Town. And if you're not filling your offspring's little heads with such sensational stuff, what the hell is wrong with you? I can tell you that my own childhood would have been vastly improved by the Evil Dead films, and I hope that you'll learn from my parents' mistakes and make sure your kids don't grow up deprived and turn out like me [insert wry and slightly disturbing wink here].

But I digress. Conclusion: this film is amusing, if not for the faint of heart (or people who dislike the colour red). If you enjoy razor-blade-encrusted baseball bats, hockey skates, Rutger Hauer, hobos, and electric toasters, this prime example of good clean Canadian fun is not to be missed.

Recommendation for getting absolutely the most out of this gleefully grisly gorefest: watch it with your mom.

Film: 'The Commitments' (1991)

[Yeah, I know this update is long-overdue. I was ill, and then I was ill, and then I was ill, and then I got my arm out of a cast and had hideously painful physiotherapy and hurt too much to type. Bite me.]

Have you seen this movie? No? Man, what are you still doing on this blog?! Go beg, borrow, or st - er, 'rent' - a copy, right now! I just saw this for the first time, and it's definitely a new all-time favourite. Why, you ask? Well - there's the soundtrack, for one. And the soundtrack. Oh, and - the soundtrack... (The rest of the film is fantastic too, but, as you can probably tell, I can't get over how good the music was.)

Based on one of Roddy Doyle's novels (which I, shamefully, have yet to read), the film chronicles the making and breaking of a North Dublin soul band. It's a good story, produced and acted unusually well - and the cast really did perform their own songs, which makes it even better. A skillful blend of high-flying hilarity and grim reality keeps any potential dull moments from rearing their monotonous heads, and the irresistible energy of great music drives the film from beginning to end with never a note out of place. If you like music, you will love this movie.

Film: 'Yojimbo' (1961)

This film should probably be renamed "Mifune Toshiro Kills Everyone." The very process of sitting still and watching it will make you feel completely epic, awesome, and every other commonly (and delightfully) misused adjective you can think of. Seriously, why are you still looking at this when you could be looking at this? :

Film: 'House' (1977)

This is really odd. It's supposed to be a horror movie, but it never quite feels like one. There's this gentle dreamlike quality to it that mutes the horror aspects in the most curious ways; afterwards I felt like I'd just watched something happy despite all the technically rather horrible deaths. I'm not sure why, really, but I enjoyed it immensely - particularly the beautiful saturated colours, which unlike many late-70s films don't feel overdone; the intense palette is really well suited to the fairy-tale nature of the piece.

Perhaps the oddest part is that, despite a few very '70s costumes, the film really doesn't feel dated at all. The special effects are very fake in a way that looks completely intentional, which makes them seem strangely modern rather than clumsy, cheap, or old-fashioned. I really liked the soundtrack, which is understated and pretty. It's kind of a baffling film, and I definitely recommend it.

Song: Robyn Hitchcock 'Not Dark Yet' (2005)

This is really beautiful. I can't stand Bob Dylan (I know, I'm a heretic, burn me at the stake or whatever); I think most of his songs are horribly phony and pretentious, and calculatedly arty in a horribly smug sort of way. Every once in a while though, someone does a Dylan cover that makes me recognize the merit in a particular song (like MCR's cover of Desolation Row - yeah, I know, now you really want to burn me at the stake - well, bite me!), and this particular cover elevates that merit into the realm of genuine loveliness. Robyn's interpretation has a classy sort of softness to it, so different from the harsh original; his spare acoustic guitar winds beautifully together with John Paul Jones' (yes, that John Paul Jones) tasteful mandolin accompaniment in an unusually elegant take on an oft-recorded song.

Covers have such an odd and uncomfortable place in the music world. It's terribly irritating when a loathly, rotten band covers a great song, which is far too often what happens. Every once in a while a great artist manages to drastically improve on the original, as in John Cale's exquisite cover of Hallelujah and the Soft Cell version of Tainted Love. Here's an exceptional example of one of the most consistently underrated musicians I've heard covering one of the most consistently overrated:

Book: Alanna Mitchell 'Sea Sick' (2009)

Did you know that, according to the sorts of scientists who crank out obscure trivia, every tear you cry eventually ends up in the ocean? This is relevant here because Mitchell's book might cause you to shed tears of pure rage. Tackling the difficult subject of ocean change (a massive contributing factor to global climate change), she lists example after example of horrifying things that the human race has done to the seas and everything in them, including plastic islands, oxygenless 'dead zones' of water where nothing can live, and entire species fished to the brink of extinction. Thankfully she also lists things that can, could, and should be done to try and halt (or at least assuage) the potentially catastrophic effects of ocean and climate change. The question, as always, is whether enough people will give enough of a damn to change anything at all.

Sore subject aside, it's fascinating just to follow her research expedition as she travels the world visiting coral reefs, universities, Australians, starving Tanzanian villagers, floating laboratories, a marine conference in China, a paleoecological dig in Spain, and the bottom of the sea. I learned a ton of incredibly cool facts about phytoplankton (which produce about half of the world's atmospheric oxygen) and corals, and some rather less cool facts about modern fishing practises and why there are certain types of seafood we simply oughtn't to eat.

In case you might think that Mitchell is simply a paranoid alarmist or a bleeding-heart crackpot commie Canadian liberal, I'd like to point out that she was named by Reuters as the best environmental reporter in the world. That's hardly the title of a crackpot, rather the label of a great writer and a fanatically accurate researcher. Please do read her book.

Book: Grant Morrison 'Supergods' (2011)

This may be the most appetizing of all books about comics. Part evolutionary history of the superhero, part memoir of a life defined by this quirky and oft-maligned medium; served up in bite-sized chapters (I defy you to read just one!) by the quirky and oft-maligned writer of Arkham Asylum, The Invisibles, Kill Your Boyfriend (plug: this may be my favourite comic in the whole world), and All-Star Superman. Fascinating read - there are so many superheroes I've never even heard of! - best enjoyed with a notebook near at hand for keeping track of all the comics (also books, films, and records) you'll want to look up. A nice mix of straight-up history and personal commentary; Morrison manages to insert his opinions regarding most of the content without being obnoxious about it (a neat trick, that). The main thing is that his book is just plain entertaining, as books about comics ought be be and so often aren't. It's quite good fun to know why he thinks Watchmen was important even though he doesn't really like it, and an entirely different kind of fun reading about his transformatively psychedelic out-of-body adventure in Kathmandu. I really like the way he's woven strands of his life story in and out of the narrative, so that the book is never really about him but also never really not about him; it's an unusual and a lovely method of autobiography. Highly recommended!

Film: 'RiP!: A remix manifesto' (2008)

There are a host of reasons why this might be the coolest thing I've seen all year. It's certainly one of the most relevant, given the neverending debates, arguments, and all-out warfare surrounding the issue of copyright infringement. Because I've only got 300 words here I can't just gush about how much I love this movie, so here are two of the aforementioned host of reasons:

1. The concept! This is an open source film. All of the footage is freely available on the Open Source Cinema site under a Creative Commons license; you are allowed - nay, encouraged - to download it, copy it, slap it together with new stuff and/or in new ways (in short, remix it) and make your own damn movie.

2. Cory Doctorow's in it. And if that's not enough cool in one place for you, there's also Lawrence Lessig, about whom I am in total agreement with filmmaker Brett Gaylor: this man is the coolest lawyer in the world. Still not enough? Okay, how about pirate cartoonist Dan O' Neill, legendary musician Gilberto Gil, and Bittersweet Symphony capoeira in the slums of Rio? Oh, and did I mention that a good deal of the film centres on kickass mashup artist Gregg Gillis, better known as the infamous Girl Talk?

Go watch this intelligent, informative, levelheaded, and terrifyingly to-the-point film. It's affordable and readily available (hell, the whole thing's on youtube - though if you like it and you've got some spare change, you can make a donation). Form your own opinion (or borrow a few from other people and make a philosophical mashup). I see this project's message as an invitation to help create the world we want to live in, and that is gloriously cool.

Film: 'The Hunger' (1983)

This one's been on my watch list for years, and, laid up with a nasty cold and lured by the promise of vampire David Bowie, lesbian Catherine Deneuve, and Bauhaus, I watched it. Poor, misguided me.

It starts off alright, with a vaguely creepy club scene involving a very brief appearance by the promised Bauhaus (inevitably performing Bela Lugosi's Dead, of course). From there it's all downhill...

First Bowie, who's not really a vampire (more of a bloodsucking groupie, really) shrivels up into an ancient zombie-thing, kills an annoying teenybopper, and then - flakes - away. Then Susan Sarandon (ecch) gets naked for no good reason at all (double ecch). Catherine Deneuve doesn't really get naked at all, which is quite disappointing. Everyone acts like a jerk and then dies, except for Catherine Deneuve, who shrivels up into a witchy old thing and gets locked in a box forever and ever, and Susan Sarandon, who takes over as head slutty vampire (ecch x eternity).

Film: 'Priest' (2011)

Q: Is it good?
A: No.
Q: Is it predictable, derivative, poorly scripted, and full of obviously fake special effects?
A: Yes.
Q: Do I love it?
A: ...Yes.

Okay, so the acting is wooden, the dialogue is bland, the story is...thin, to say the least, and the critics hated it. But it's fun! The unconvincing but spooky theocratic post-apocalypse setting is a thoroughly enjoyable piece of chilling escapist fantasy. The monochromatic desertified wastelands are quite beautiful despite being so obviously computer-generated, and the solar-powered bikes the characters race across the sands on at ridiculously high speeds are really quite cool. Oh, yeah, and it always makes me happy when movie vampires are grotesquely portrayed as slimy, insectoid, eyeless, cave-dwelling monsters rather than sparkly undead noblemen. These vamps are definitely not sexy, unless you have a massive thing for drippy grey slime. I suppose they'll never make a sequel to this film, but I really hope I'm wrong!