In continuing the lightheartedness of my last post, I'm going to share my top ten favorite films and to watch around this time of year. Once Thanksgiving passes, it's open game on all things Christmas.
Before I begin, I should note that I'm evaluating these films based on nostalgic factors and their adherence to the "holiday spirit" rather than artistic merit. You will see some complete cheese-fests on here, but to my estimation, they're very enjoyable cheese fests. Also, the entire film has to revolve around Christmas, so The Godfather and L.A. Confidential won't appear on account of their brief but memorable Christmas scenes. Lastly, this is a list of films not TV specials, so you won't see Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas or Beavis & Butthead Do Christmas here, as much as I love both.
So turn on the Charlie Brown Christmas album and take warm trip with me down nostalgia lane...
10. Reindeer Games (2000)
Do you love Christmas movies and cheesy 1990's action films in equal measure? Reindeer Games may already be one of your favorites, if you've seen it. It wouldn't be surprising if you haven't seen famed director John Frankenheimer's last film, because it was a bomb then and still incites Grinch-like jeers when it's brought up today, due to its ludicrous plot scenarios which feature more unbelievable twists than a peppermint.
Rudy (Ben Affleck), a car thief is released from prison and poses as his cellmate, who was murdered the day before. He begins an affair with his cellmate's pen pal girlfriend (Charlize Theron), whose criminal brother enlists him to help him rob a casino.
Though it's a completely silly film, it earns its spot on this list due to its insistent humor and odd replay value. I'd taken this film out "for the hell of it" at least ten times before I realized it had become something of a de facto custom around the Christmas season. There's plenty of dark humor involving people being beaten or tortured, yet there's enough references to the holiday to give it almost a lighthearted touch. No matter how much blood is being shed, its insistent humor makes it more similar in spirit to Home Alone than The Boondock Saints. If you can stomach a little violence, don't miss this one.
9. The Santa Clause (1994)
Definitely one of the titles which found its way on the list due to nostalgic factors, The Santa Clause was funnyman Tim Allen's turn as Father Christmas after playing the quintessential American father on Home Improvement. The film concerns a father who witnesses Santa fall from his roof on Christmas Eve, and finds himself literally donning the big man's beard as he becomes the new Santa.
As is the case with many Christmas films, The Santa Clause was very much intended to be a family-friendly film. At times, the fantasy elements and saccharine "Christmas spirit" monologues can upset the stomach of even the most obnoxiously gung-ho holiday nut, but the film's colorful direction and funny, natural performance from Tim Allen make it all worthwhile. The scenes at Santa's workshop are gaudy,
Allen really is the film's greatest asset, and the best jokes revolve around his wisecracking or complete disbelief in the face of magic taking place before his eyes. One of the funniest scenes revolves around his first night as Santa, in which he chides a young girl for leaving him milk when he's lactose intolerant. It may have the same effect on someone who didn't first watch it as a child, but it's still one of the better Christmas comedies.
8. Love Actually (2003)
Set around the intertwining lives of multiple people in the weeks leading up to Christmas, Love Actually is the most recent addition on the list. Thanks to more than a few memorable moments which resonated with audiences almost as deeply as Home Alone, the film has become a staple on TV rotations during the holiday season.
Billed as a "romantic comedy" and featuring an ensemble of the U.K.'s premier actors in that genre (including Hugh Grant, Colin Firth, Keira Knightley and others) - one might mistake Love Actually as a garden variety chick flick, with the same basic plot redressed in a new context. While there's certainly some of that to be found, Love Actually takes a different approach, compiling many different subplots which each tell a story about love from a different perspective. There's the dissolution of a marriage, reinforced familial bonds, newfound romance between people foreign to each other and unrequited love. It borders on an overabundance of plot at times, but all of the stories coalesce together to remind us that nothing is stronger than love. Is there a more appropriate message to share at Christmas?
The film is aging very well, and one of the most fun aspects of watching it every year is seeing just how much of the supporting cast has gone on to international stardom. It was already bubbling with A-listers upon release, but now we can go back and recognize The Walking Dead's Andrew Lincoln as the guy who held up confessional cue cards to his romantic interest to the sound of "Silent Night".
7. Elf (2003)
I find Will Ferrell to be a bit much at times, and he was at his most obnoxious in Elf. The idea of casting him as a man-child raised by elves who goes to New York in search of his biological father sounds like the kind of idea spawned from an all night eggnog bender. Ferrell's basic "if it's gay or childish, it's funny" mantra is played out to the extreme in this film, and James Caan phones in a completely wooden performance as Ferrell's earthbound father. To add insult to injury, my least favorite actress Zooey Deschanel is cast as the love interest. On paper, it sounds like a horrible film.
However, all these elements ties together to make up something greater than the sum of its parts. Elf isn't just a fluke, it's an extremely memorable fluke. To have a character answer the phone with "Hi I'm Buddy the Elf, what's your favorite color?" isn't exactly sharp comedic writing, yet it's somehow entered the public consciousness as an enduring catch phase. Most of the fish out of water jokes in Elf are completely on the nose and somewhat predictable, yet the film is chock full of memorable lines and scenes tied together with Ferrell's controversial but undeniable charisma.
It's one of the sillier entries, but along with Love Actually, it's a relatively newer film which has become arguably the classic Christmas comedy for younger millennials.
6. Jingle All the Way (1997)
In some ways, this is the most personal pick for an entry on this list. It's the bottom of the barrel of silliness, a film which either incites cold criticism or the warmest memories of being a kid in the '90s. Jingle All the Way is the most critically derided film here along with Reindeer Games, and understandably so. It's a comedy starring Arnold Schwarzenegger about a inattentive father who attempts to hunt down the hottest toy of the year on Christmas Eve, brought to you by the director of Problem Child 2 and The Spy Next Door, the Jackie Chan family film from 2010. Remember? No, me neither.
In spite of all its artlessness, Jingle manages to be an extremely fun and likable film for its manic humor, but also for the unintended hilarity of Schwarzenegger's interpretation of the script. Many of the film's innocuous lines have become comedic gold ripe for endless imitations due to the action star's thick Austrian accent. As a lightweight slapstick comedy, it also elicits many genuine laughs thanks to the performances of Schwarzenegger, Sinbad as an antagonistic mailman and Phil Hartman as a sleazy neighbor. The latter two are completely in their element and Schwarzenegger gives a perfectly credible comedic performance, although he sneaks in a few chances to kick some ass in Jingle All the Way.
If anything, Jingle All the Way stands as one of the last Christmas films for toy-obsessed youths before the smartphone generation stepped in. Any child who grew up in the '80s and '90s can recall mass marketed, must-have toys which inspired the kind of insanity portrayed in the film every Christmas season. For my older brother's generation, it was Cabbage Patch Kids. I was a child of the Power Rangers generation. Though action figures and dolls have lost the power to incite such obsession among children, Jingle All the Way has become all the more relevant now that Black Friday has nearly become a holiday in its own right.
Monday, November 28, 2016
Thursday, November 24, 2016
THOSE AREN'T PILLOWS! Remembering Planes, Trains & Automobiles
Given the chaotic nature of this year and the social discord that resulted in the wake of this month's presidential election, it seems that what we all need is a bit of levity and humor. In my house, this film was a staple of every Thanksgiving
dinner. My family would wear out the same old quotes and repeat genuine
laughs for the thirtieth time together. So here's a review of the greatest Thanksgiving comedy of all time, just one year short of its thirtieth anniversary..
Planes, Trains & Automobiles was teen drama bard John Hughes' attempt to break his own mold of making films focused on the lives of outsider teens, a niche he'd carved with '80s staples such as Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club. With Planes, Trains & Automobiles, he refocused his absurdist deadpan talents to adults. Instead of high school kings, queens and peasants however, Planes pairs uptight yuppie Neal Page (Steve Martin) with the lower-middle class lovable goofball Del Griffith (John Candy). Like his earlier teen films, the film reveals some genuine social commentary beneath a basic Murphy's Law buddy comedy about two people trying to get home for the holidays without killing each other.
Planes, Trains and Automobiles doesn't aspire to be a deep film by any means, instead straddling a fine line between low and high-brow comedy. There aren't many lewd sex jokes or gross-out moments, yet a man can be seen being lifted by his testicles and an entire conversation is carried out about whether or not one of the characters "plays with his balls" a lot. There's a good amount of slapstick humor, but much of the film's humor is derived from the tension between straight-man Neal and the clumsy antics of Del, who is the main source of Neal's catastrophes over their journey together. It's one of those rare films that manages to balance a silly tone with sharp writing.
While it's a goofy comedy at heart, the film also has a surprisingly touching side that tames the funniest moments with a sobriety made all the more tragic with the loss of John Candy less than a decade after the film's release. The audience comes to sympathize with Del Griffith as much as Neal Page grew to resent him in the first half of the film. Nevertheless, the chemistry of Martin and Candy makes their friendship all the more genuine and warranted by the film's end. Like Hughes' earlier films, upper class characters like Neal are portrayed as stiff, cold and pretentious. Blue collar everyman Del is accordingly uncultured, oafish and easygoing. Yet each character learns from the other by the film's end, with Neal learning to be more easygoing and open-minded, and Del learning to mind his overbearing nature.
It feels silly to write so much about a film with no inherent message. This endearing piece of Thanksgiving popcorn fodder was meant for little more than pure entertainment. I do wonder if it will have the same effect on people who didn't experience it at a young age. A large part of the film's charm is undoubtedly its legacy as the ultimate Thanksgiving comedy. Its relatively mild, slow-paced humor seems like it would be completely lost on the smartphone generation. For those who were lucky enough to grow up watching this film as I did, it serves as a nostalgic reminder of a more innocent time. Can you imagine a comedy today earning an R-Rating due to just one (very memorable) F-word laden scene? Still, I can think of few films which prelude the Home Alone season better. Everyone should watch this film at least once.
Planes, Trains & Automobiles was teen drama bard John Hughes' attempt to break his own mold of making films focused on the lives of outsider teens, a niche he'd carved with '80s staples such as Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club. With Planes, Trains & Automobiles, he refocused his absurdist deadpan talents to adults. Instead of high school kings, queens and peasants however, Planes pairs uptight yuppie Neal Page (Steve Martin) with the lower-middle class lovable goofball Del Griffith (John Candy). Like his earlier teen films, the film reveals some genuine social commentary beneath a basic Murphy's Law buddy comedy about two people trying to get home for the holidays without killing each other.
Planes, Trains and Automobiles doesn't aspire to be a deep film by any means, instead straddling a fine line between low and high-brow comedy. There aren't many lewd sex jokes or gross-out moments, yet a man can be seen being lifted by his testicles and an entire conversation is carried out about whether or not one of the characters "plays with his balls" a lot. There's a good amount of slapstick humor, but much of the film's humor is derived from the tension between straight-man Neal and the clumsy antics of Del, who is the main source of Neal's catastrophes over their journey together. It's one of those rare films that manages to balance a silly tone with sharp writing.
While it's a goofy comedy at heart, the film also has a surprisingly touching side that tames the funniest moments with a sobriety made all the more tragic with the loss of John Candy less than a decade after the film's release. The audience comes to sympathize with Del Griffith as much as Neal Page grew to resent him in the first half of the film. Nevertheless, the chemistry of Martin and Candy makes their friendship all the more genuine and warranted by the film's end. Like Hughes' earlier films, upper class characters like Neal are portrayed as stiff, cold and pretentious. Blue collar everyman Del is accordingly uncultured, oafish and easygoing. Yet each character learns from the other by the film's end, with Neal learning to be more easygoing and open-minded, and Del learning to mind his overbearing nature.
It feels silly to write so much about a film with no inherent message. This endearing piece of Thanksgiving popcorn fodder was meant for little more than pure entertainment. I do wonder if it will have the same effect on people who didn't experience it at a young age. A large part of the film's charm is undoubtedly its legacy as the ultimate Thanksgiving comedy. Its relatively mild, slow-paced humor seems like it would be completely lost on the smartphone generation. For those who were lucky enough to grow up watching this film as I did, it serves as a nostalgic reminder of a more innocent time. Can you imagine a comedy today earning an R-Rating due to just one (very memorable) F-word laden scene? Still, I can think of few films which prelude the Home Alone season better. Everyone should watch this film at least once.
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
Some Thoughts on 11/9
When Donald Trump started to win a majority of the electoral votes only two hours into the night of the election, I was nervous. As the wins began to pile in, it became apparent that Hillary Clinton needed to win all of the five or six remaining states to pull off a tight victory. But it was not meant to be. By 9:00 PM, my French class had ended for the night and everyone was shell shocked. Within 24 hours, the world had responded. Social media was a firestorm where nasty political discussions degenerated into people publicly denouncing their own friends online. News piled in about attacks on minorities and anti-Trump protests mobilized a mere hours after he'd officially won. This only further solidified right wing skeptics, with many using the liberal outcry as an excuse to further distance themselves. In other words, all of the differences people had on a political level suddenly ballooned into borderline hateful arguments.
It's easy for one to dismiss his followers as gullible hate-mongers, but there's more to it than that. Many of the people he reached are well-meaning, good citizens who simply feel marginalized by a mainstream culture that alienated them with the cultural changes that came with Obama's presidency. When Obama won in 2008, there was much rejoicing but also a significant amount of backlash. The far-right didn't take it to the streets as the left is doing now. They let it brew, voicing their frustrations at political correctness at every turn and doing everything in their power to oppose the president out of sheer resentment. Their intentions and ideals may be misguided, but their feelings are as real as the rest of us.
Trump did not create this, he merely took advantage and exploited it. He gave fuel to this disenfranchised portion of Americans and made them feel passionate about reclaiming what is rightfully theirs. He gave the simplest solutions to the most complicated issues facing the world today, regardless of whether or not his solutions were even logical. It didn't matter in the end, because he set fire to the underdogs. While the specific messages and overall tone of the campaign is the diametric opposite of Obama's more unified theme of change after eight years of George W. Bush, the dynamic between the two campaigns feels extremely similar. They both worked because they successfully capitalized on the voice of the most passionate, and generally the underdog's voice rings more passionate than that of the establishment.
Why would any of this make a mostly liberal independent optimistic? I'm not at all optimistic about the policies Trump has detailed or the normalization of negativity he will instill from his position. They're irrelevant, as he's begun to renege on many of his more outlandish campaign promises, as I'd expected. I'm optimistic because a more positive message of unity now has a chance to prevail in response to the establishment, similar to the way negative concepts propelled him to win.
When I first started seeing footage of protests, my first reaction was one of apathy. I've seen a similar (though not as impressive) outcry directed at George W. Bush and we endured eight years of him. The movements to Occupy Wall Street similarly resulted in very little policy change, and Wall Street remains just as corrupt today as it did then. I thought protestors were simply wasting their energy and were going to feel disappointed when absolutely nothing happened as a result of their demonstration.
I was completely missing the point. What have we learned from Trump's rise to prominence in the first place? While I completely disagree with his messages, I think we can all agree that he was right about corruption in Washington. He beat the odds, a broken political system and won not due to his political connections, but the support of everyday citizens, even if he earned their trust with nefarious methods. If anything, Trump showed us that power does indeed lie within the people.
Ultimately, I don't view the battle as liberal vs. conservative or right vs. left. The fact that the strife between the two schools of thought has reached such a peak is the real issue. No positive changes can be made when our national identity is so fractured. The idea of having political parties is not to contest which will reign supreme. Parties are formed to offer multiple perspectives, all of which should contribute ideas in a healthy debate. They exist to work together. Unfortunately, we've reached a peak in American history where political debates are merely a facade, an excuse for people to lash out at each other for no good reason. Indeed, I've noticed when my friends engage in "debates" on social media, discussions degenerate into petty insults very quickly.
How can we even pretend to be a liberal or conservative with the country's ideals in mind when we're all equally contributing to this poisonous division? I'm constantly surprised at how people from all ends of the spectrum from common citizens to the politicians themselves seem to forget a very important yet fundamental fact about this country. We're all in this together; liberal, conservative, moderate, etc. We're spending all of our time blaming the other team for what's wrong with this country, but we need each other, whether we like it or not.
I believe this division has only so far left to go before the trend starts to buckle and reverse itself. Despite what the more radical thinkers say, we are not going to engage in a secession or a civil war. It's a fun idea, but this isn't the nineteenth century. As upset as people are, we're more ingrained within each other than we'd like to admit. There will certainly be shocking unrest and violence, but no one has the resources or power to organize half the country against the other half. It's a logistical impossibility.
Social trends come and go in this volatile time. We wear out ideals as quickly as memes these days. Although I'm perplexed at how stubborn people can be in the political arena, I'm confident that we will eventually stop questioning each other and turn that inquisition inward. Eventually, we'll be forced to question ourselves; what are we doing and why? Mulling over the same tired arguments with people of the staunchly opposing view will not prevail and make our lives better. Eventually, we're going to have to try something new.
While I do fear the changes Donald Trump brings with him through policy and cultural influence, I know that it's simply an Empire Strikes Back dynamic at play. The tide will turn again in due time, thanks to the people. Unless he miraculously changes the country and our lives for the better, he will become the target of our collective frustration, not unlike Obama. People will be ready to try something new. Let's just hope we don't lose too much before then.
It's easy for one to dismiss his followers as gullible hate-mongers, but there's more to it than that. Many of the people he reached are well-meaning, good citizens who simply feel marginalized by a mainstream culture that alienated them with the cultural changes that came with Obama's presidency. When Obama won in 2008, there was much rejoicing but also a significant amount of backlash. The far-right didn't take it to the streets as the left is doing now. They let it brew, voicing their frustrations at political correctness at every turn and doing everything in their power to oppose the president out of sheer resentment. Their intentions and ideals may be misguided, but their feelings are as real as the rest of us.
Trump did not create this, he merely took advantage and exploited it. He gave fuel to this disenfranchised portion of Americans and made them feel passionate about reclaiming what is rightfully theirs. He gave the simplest solutions to the most complicated issues facing the world today, regardless of whether or not his solutions were even logical. It didn't matter in the end, because he set fire to the underdogs. While the specific messages and overall tone of the campaign is the diametric opposite of Obama's more unified theme of change after eight years of George W. Bush, the dynamic between the two campaigns feels extremely similar. They both worked because they successfully capitalized on the voice of the most passionate, and generally the underdog's voice rings more passionate than that of the establishment.
Why would any of this make a mostly liberal independent optimistic? I'm not at all optimistic about the policies Trump has detailed or the normalization of negativity he will instill from his position. They're irrelevant, as he's begun to renege on many of his more outlandish campaign promises, as I'd expected. I'm optimistic because a more positive message of unity now has a chance to prevail in response to the establishment, similar to the way negative concepts propelled him to win.
When I first started seeing footage of protests, my first reaction was one of apathy. I've seen a similar (though not as impressive) outcry directed at George W. Bush and we endured eight years of him. The movements to Occupy Wall Street similarly resulted in very little policy change, and Wall Street remains just as corrupt today as it did then. I thought protestors were simply wasting their energy and were going to feel disappointed when absolutely nothing happened as a result of their demonstration.
I was completely missing the point. What have we learned from Trump's rise to prominence in the first place? While I completely disagree with his messages, I think we can all agree that he was right about corruption in Washington. He beat the odds, a broken political system and won not due to his political connections, but the support of everyday citizens, even if he earned their trust with nefarious methods. If anything, Trump showed us that power does indeed lie within the people.
Ultimately, I don't view the battle as liberal vs. conservative or right vs. left. The fact that the strife between the two schools of thought has reached such a peak is the real issue. No positive changes can be made when our national identity is so fractured. The idea of having political parties is not to contest which will reign supreme. Parties are formed to offer multiple perspectives, all of which should contribute ideas in a healthy debate. They exist to work together. Unfortunately, we've reached a peak in American history where political debates are merely a facade, an excuse for people to lash out at each other for no good reason. Indeed, I've noticed when my friends engage in "debates" on social media, discussions degenerate into petty insults very quickly.
How can we even pretend to be a liberal or conservative with the country's ideals in mind when we're all equally contributing to this poisonous division? I'm constantly surprised at how people from all ends of the spectrum from common citizens to the politicians themselves seem to forget a very important yet fundamental fact about this country. We're all in this together; liberal, conservative, moderate, etc. We're spending all of our time blaming the other team for what's wrong with this country, but we need each other, whether we like it or not.
I believe this division has only so far left to go before the trend starts to buckle and reverse itself. Despite what the more radical thinkers say, we are not going to engage in a secession or a civil war. It's a fun idea, but this isn't the nineteenth century. As upset as people are, we're more ingrained within each other than we'd like to admit. There will certainly be shocking unrest and violence, but no one has the resources or power to organize half the country against the other half. It's a logistical impossibility.
Social trends come and go in this volatile time. We wear out ideals as quickly as memes these days. Although I'm perplexed at how stubborn people can be in the political arena, I'm confident that we will eventually stop questioning each other and turn that inquisition inward. Eventually, we'll be forced to question ourselves; what are we doing and why? Mulling over the same tired arguments with people of the staunchly opposing view will not prevail and make our lives better. Eventually, we're going to have to try something new.
While I do fear the changes Donald Trump brings with him through policy and cultural influence, I know that it's simply an Empire Strikes Back dynamic at play. The tide will turn again in due time, thanks to the people. Unless he miraculously changes the country and our lives for the better, he will become the target of our collective frustration, not unlike Obama. People will be ready to try something new. Let's just hope we don't lose too much before then.
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Reviewing a Show I Didn't Attend: Prince at Coachella 2008
Prince's death was perhaps the most unexpected to occur this year. Unlike David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Lonnie Mack, Merle Haggard and Lemmy, Prince was relatively young at 57 years old. He was also a notorious vegetarian who (at least to the public) didn't appear to have any notable issues with substance abuse. With his youthful good looks and boundless energy as a performer, no one would have expected the Purple One not to make it to 60. Unfortunately, we were wrong.
I was a major Prince fan from 2008 until about 2012. Though I was initially turned off by the definitively '80s production sounds in the music and his colorful (to say the least) vibe, I couldn't deny the masterfully catchy pop of "When Doves Cry", "Kiss" and later, "Little Red Corvette". It wasn't until I heard "Raspberry Beret" when I was completely sold on Prince's genius as a musician. It mixed the synthesized elements of Kraftwerk, baroque touches of latter day Beatles AND a soulful vocal worthy of Al Green at his best. No one else could mix such disparate elements to great success. More importantly, it's one of the catchiest songs ever written!
I became a full blown fan when he headlined the Coachella Music Festival in 2008. I didn't personally attend, but I obtained footage and high quality audio of the entire show. It was enough to completely sell me on his talent. Prince is one of the most notoriously dynamic and energetic performers in popular music, often featuring flashy set pieces, stunning choreography and most importantly, music so thrilling it reaches out to people from all walks of life.
That's exactly what made his Coachella show such a monumental experience. If it had happened ten or twenty years prior, it would have become as iconic as Otis Redding's appearance at the Monterey Pop Festival 41 years before him. Like Redding, Prince played to a crowd brought up on a diet of Indie Rock, Trip Hop, early EDM and anything that might be classified as "Alternative". Prince was one of the biggest stars in popular music before Nirvana paved the way for darker, more rock-oriented music in the early 1990's. Who was Prince to these millennial music fans? An unforgettable face from the '80s? The guy who sang "Purple Rain", "Kiss" and those other good songs you might not have known were his?
Regardless of who he was to them before the show, no one who left that show would ever forget him. There he was, a black performer who announced cockily that they were in the coolest place on Earth, due entirely to his presence...just before letting his proteges from Morris Day and the Time take the stage. Prince didn't sing a lead vocal until a good twenty minutes into the show, choosing instead to play one hot guitar solo after another, as if he knew he was so good he reveled in teasing the audience. He didn't even play a song he technically recorded himself until he sang "1999". By then, the party had truly taken off.
Prince's shows by then were approaching a new peak. After a long period of commercially disappointing, self indulgent albums which sometimes focused on his Jehovah's Witness faith, he'd made a comeback to (relatively) commercial music in 2003 with Musicology. There were still elements from his more experimental phase, such as the habit of performing sometimes unexpected covers in concert. Coachella's set list of mostly hits was interrupted near the end of the show with a cover of Alt. Rock favorite Radiohead's "Creep", which he'd utterly made his own with his less 'sinful' lyrical changes, R&B falsetto and a roaring guitar solo worthy of Van Halen.
If there's one thing I can say about Prince's shows in general, it's that they were all about diversity. When I finally saw him a year later at the Nokia Theater in Los Angeles, his own crowd was made up of people from literally all backgrounds and tastes in music, from fans of left-of-the-dial indie rock to older R&B fans. There were college students and concertgoers who looked like they had just come from Hollywood's flashiest clubs. Of course, there were also more than a handful of celebrities in both sports and music, including Magic Johnson.
His catalogue of music reflected this diversity. Only Prince could fearlessly play the ultra-smooth R&B of "Shhh" back to back with the hard rocking "U Got the Look", the old school blues funk romp "Musicology", the aforementioned Radiohead song and a set of true-to-form Santana jams, topping off almost every song with a jaw-dropping guitar solo worthy of Jimi Hendrix.
Near the end of the show, he followed an emotional cover of Sarah McLachlan's "Angel" (sung by backing singer Ledisi) with the one-two gospel punch of his own "7" and a pounding version of the Beatles' "Come Together", in which he announced to the mostly youthful audience that they as a whole were at the brink of a new golden age. Of course, it was all wind and sail but he had such an explosive charisma that it really seemed plausible.
Throughout the recording, people could be heard audibly gasping at stunts like that, or when he reached a crescendo in his magnum opus power ballad "Purple Rain". One concertgoer exclaimed, "He thinks he's Jesus!" While Prince would have certainly taken offense to that specific comment, that person wasn't completely wrong. Whether he was playing virtuoso-level guitar, keyboards, bass or making the most daring jumps between vocal ranges, Prince knew he had the talent to wow thousands of skeptics at a show and took pride in it.
Though it's never officially been released apart from a clip of "Creep", Prince's Coachella set can be found by only the most loyal and least ethical of his fans. Perhaps that's why it's faded into relative obscurity in this volatile time for media. His notoriously aggressive protection of his intellectual property has also aided this.
It's a shame that not everyone will be able to experience a Prince concert now. I caught one of his smaller shows, plagued with sound difficulties yet still brimming with excitement. Never before have I seen a figure with such a broad crossover appeal, a star who truly had the power to bring people together under the influence of his music. I don't think we'll ever see such an artist in popular music ever again.
I was a major Prince fan from 2008 until about 2012. Though I was initially turned off by the definitively '80s production sounds in the music and his colorful (to say the least) vibe, I couldn't deny the masterfully catchy pop of "When Doves Cry", "Kiss" and later, "Little Red Corvette". It wasn't until I heard "Raspberry Beret" when I was completely sold on Prince's genius as a musician. It mixed the synthesized elements of Kraftwerk, baroque touches of latter day Beatles AND a soulful vocal worthy of Al Green at his best. No one else could mix such disparate elements to great success. More importantly, it's one of the catchiest songs ever written!
I became a full blown fan when he headlined the Coachella Music Festival in 2008. I didn't personally attend, but I obtained footage and high quality audio of the entire show. It was enough to completely sell me on his talent. Prince is one of the most notoriously dynamic and energetic performers in popular music, often featuring flashy set pieces, stunning choreography and most importantly, music so thrilling it reaches out to people from all walks of life.
That's exactly what made his Coachella show such a monumental experience. If it had happened ten or twenty years prior, it would have become as iconic as Otis Redding's appearance at the Monterey Pop Festival 41 years before him. Like Redding, Prince played to a crowd brought up on a diet of Indie Rock, Trip Hop, early EDM and anything that might be classified as "Alternative". Prince was one of the biggest stars in popular music before Nirvana paved the way for darker, more rock-oriented music in the early 1990's. Who was Prince to these millennial music fans? An unforgettable face from the '80s? The guy who sang "Purple Rain", "Kiss" and those other good songs you might not have known were his?
Regardless of who he was to them before the show, no one who left that show would ever forget him. There he was, a black performer who announced cockily that they were in the coolest place on Earth, due entirely to his presence...just before letting his proteges from Morris Day and the Time take the stage. Prince didn't sing a lead vocal until a good twenty minutes into the show, choosing instead to play one hot guitar solo after another, as if he knew he was so good he reveled in teasing the audience. He didn't even play a song he technically recorded himself until he sang "1999". By then, the party had truly taken off.
Prince's shows by then were approaching a new peak. After a long period of commercially disappointing, self indulgent albums which sometimes focused on his Jehovah's Witness faith, he'd made a comeback to (relatively) commercial music in 2003 with Musicology. There were still elements from his more experimental phase, such as the habit of performing sometimes unexpected covers in concert. Coachella's set list of mostly hits was interrupted near the end of the show with a cover of Alt. Rock favorite Radiohead's "Creep", which he'd utterly made his own with his less 'sinful' lyrical changes, R&B falsetto and a roaring guitar solo worthy of Van Halen.
If there's one thing I can say about Prince's shows in general, it's that they were all about diversity. When I finally saw him a year later at the Nokia Theater in Los Angeles, his own crowd was made up of people from literally all backgrounds and tastes in music, from fans of left-of-the-dial indie rock to older R&B fans. There were college students and concertgoers who looked like they had just come from Hollywood's flashiest clubs. Of course, there were also more than a handful of celebrities in both sports and music, including Magic Johnson.
His catalogue of music reflected this diversity. Only Prince could fearlessly play the ultra-smooth R&B of "Shhh" back to back with the hard rocking "U Got the Look", the old school blues funk romp "Musicology", the aforementioned Radiohead song and a set of true-to-form Santana jams, topping off almost every song with a jaw-dropping guitar solo worthy of Jimi Hendrix.
Near the end of the show, he followed an emotional cover of Sarah McLachlan's "Angel" (sung by backing singer Ledisi) with the one-two gospel punch of his own "7" and a pounding version of the Beatles' "Come Together", in which he announced to the mostly youthful audience that they as a whole were at the brink of a new golden age. Of course, it was all wind and sail but he had such an explosive charisma that it really seemed plausible.
Throughout the recording, people could be heard audibly gasping at stunts like that, or when he reached a crescendo in his magnum opus power ballad "Purple Rain". One concertgoer exclaimed, "He thinks he's Jesus!" While Prince would have certainly taken offense to that specific comment, that person wasn't completely wrong. Whether he was playing virtuoso-level guitar, keyboards, bass or making the most daring jumps between vocal ranges, Prince knew he had the talent to wow thousands of skeptics at a show and took pride in it.
Though it's never officially been released apart from a clip of "Creep", Prince's Coachella set can be found by only the most loyal and least ethical of his fans. Perhaps that's why it's faded into relative obscurity in this volatile time for media. His notoriously aggressive protection of his intellectual property has also aided this.
It's a shame that not everyone will be able to experience a Prince concert now. I caught one of his smaller shows, plagued with sound difficulties yet still brimming with excitement. Never before have I seen a figure with such a broad crossover appeal, a star who truly had the power to bring people together under the influence of his music. I don't think we'll ever see such an artist in popular music ever again.
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Heeeere's Johnny! Deja Vu-ing THE SHINING
For my first post after an extended working break, I've decided to offer a few thoughts on one of the greatest horror films of all time just hours before Halloween. It's my personal favorite horror film of all time, having been traumatized by it as a young child. The film is Stanley Kubrick's The Shining.
It's important to stress that we're discussing Stanley Kubrick's take on Stephen King's 1977 psychological thriller novel, not the television miniseries endorsed by King himself or the Simpsons parody, The Shinning. King's tale of a writer gone mad while serving as a winter caretaker at an isolated hotel serves as the framework for the 1980 film, but Kubrick's distinct spin made it a truly iconic and unforgettable story.
Though King himself has disagreed, Kubrick's Shining is one of the few instances in which I would say a film completely surpassed the book upon which it was based. King's novel is full of plenty of genuinely disturbing elements and imaginatively spooky moments, but Kubrick truly brings us to the haunting Overlook Hotel, creating a visceral experience which comes about as close to recreating a nightmare as any filmmaker ever could.
It's hard to pick the single most notable feature of the film as the "star", but the atmosphere is undeniably one of them. While there are a handful of shocks, the film relies less on making the audience scream and more on haunting them long after they've seen the film. There are many lingering, wide shots of the dimly lit lobby or a simply mesmerizing hallway, creating unease of something lingering around the corner. More than half the time, it turns out to be nothing, but there's enough tension in the cold expanse of the hotel set and its lifeless color scheme to turn knuckles white before the first ghost makes an appearance.The film's score drives the chilling atmosphere as much as the visuals. From the monstrous horns set to the winding labyrinth of the Rockies in the film's intro to the vaguely Native motifs heard in the more shocking cues, Wendy Carlos' soundtrack is easily one of the most disturbing and iconic when it comes to modern horror.
The film's spooky atmosphere would be the star of the film if not for two words on the marquee: Jack Nicholson. In easily one of his most iconic performances, Nicholson brings his trademark sardonic attitude and effortless craziness which truly brings the Jack Torrance character to life onscreen. Viewers are already rendered uneasy before any of the madness or mayhem begins, thanks to Nicholson's natural menace. Of course, the rest of the cast serves as the perfect foil to his descent into madness. I remember as a child (what kind of parents show this to their 9 year old??), my parents would make merciless fun of Shelley Duvall, remarking on her ghostly appearance and often over the top hysterics. Danny Lloyd turns in a prodigious performance as the clairvoyant son Danny, whose innocence is downright frightening when he makes a psychic prediction as his alter ego "Tony".
There is a great deal of contention regarding the film's "message", if there is one. Indeed, it almost seems as if Kubrick littered the film with contradictions to confuse the viewer. Was this an attempt to place us in the ghostly mental haze of the Overlook Hotel? That in itself would be one of a hundred ways to explain why the "Grady" characters have two different first names, or why Jack's undeniable connection to hotel is explained with only a photograph. Was he "always" the caretaker in the sense that his reincarnations keep returning to the hotel in a sort of generational ritual? Unlike King's novel, there aren't any clear explanations. The sense of mystique makes the film all the more intriguing and unsettling.
One of the more common interpretations of the film is that it's a statement against Native American genocide. This theory is hard to ignore, with one line essentially explaining the reason for the hotel's haunted history being that it's built on an Indian burial ground. True to Kubrick's bid for mystery in the film, the line evades most audiences on the first view. However, there are fairly obvious undertones that support this theory throughout the film, from the Native-inspired imagery throughout the hotel's decor to aforementioned musical cues that have a vague Native flavor. The hotel itself can represent white settlers' disregard for indigenous history, as they have no qualms about creating a new place to live in at the expense of Native lives. The blood that flows from the elevator can be interpreted as the blood of people who are buried (both literally and figuratively) beneath a behemoth of white colonialism.
I read all of these theories and made these analyses long after I decided The Shining was my favorite horror film. I'm sure all of this cohesiveness (or lack thereof) was Kubrick's intent, but what matters is that it all culminated in one of the most truly unsettling, albeit slow-paced films in the genre. It revels not in jump scares or gore, but in dread and atmosphere. It says more not with what it shows, but what it doesn't show. For myself, some of the most frightening moments in the film are of characters simply having a discussion or walking through the hotel.
It's a must see for horror fans and film fans alike. I think everyone should watch it at least once. Just be prepared for a few sleepless nights.
It's important to stress that we're discussing Stanley Kubrick's take on Stephen King's 1977 psychological thriller novel, not the television miniseries endorsed by King himself or the Simpsons parody, The Shinning. King's tale of a writer gone mad while serving as a winter caretaker at an isolated hotel serves as the framework for the 1980 film, but Kubrick's distinct spin made it a truly iconic and unforgettable story.
Though King himself has disagreed, Kubrick's Shining is one of the few instances in which I would say a film completely surpassed the book upon which it was based. King's novel is full of plenty of genuinely disturbing elements and imaginatively spooky moments, but Kubrick truly brings us to the haunting Overlook Hotel, creating a visceral experience which comes about as close to recreating a nightmare as any filmmaker ever could.
It's hard to pick the single most notable feature of the film as the "star", but the atmosphere is undeniably one of them. While there are a handful of shocks, the film relies less on making the audience scream and more on haunting them long after they've seen the film. There are many lingering, wide shots of the dimly lit lobby or a simply mesmerizing hallway, creating unease of something lingering around the corner. More than half the time, it turns out to be nothing, but there's enough tension in the cold expanse of the hotel set and its lifeless color scheme to turn knuckles white before the first ghost makes an appearance.The film's score drives the chilling atmosphere as much as the visuals. From the monstrous horns set to the winding labyrinth of the Rockies in the film's intro to the vaguely Native motifs heard in the more shocking cues, Wendy Carlos' soundtrack is easily one of the most disturbing and iconic when it comes to modern horror.
The film's spooky atmosphere would be the star of the film if not for two words on the marquee: Jack Nicholson. In easily one of his most iconic performances, Nicholson brings his trademark sardonic attitude and effortless craziness which truly brings the Jack Torrance character to life onscreen. Viewers are already rendered uneasy before any of the madness or mayhem begins, thanks to Nicholson's natural menace. Of course, the rest of the cast serves as the perfect foil to his descent into madness. I remember as a child (what kind of parents show this to their 9 year old??), my parents would make merciless fun of Shelley Duvall, remarking on her ghostly appearance and often over the top hysterics. Danny Lloyd turns in a prodigious performance as the clairvoyant son Danny, whose innocence is downright frightening when he makes a psychic prediction as his alter ego "Tony".
There is a great deal of contention regarding the film's "message", if there is one. Indeed, it almost seems as if Kubrick littered the film with contradictions to confuse the viewer. Was this an attempt to place us in the ghostly mental haze of the Overlook Hotel? That in itself would be one of a hundred ways to explain why the "Grady" characters have two different first names, or why Jack's undeniable connection to hotel is explained with only a photograph. Was he "always" the caretaker in the sense that his reincarnations keep returning to the hotel in a sort of generational ritual? Unlike King's novel, there aren't any clear explanations. The sense of mystique makes the film all the more intriguing and unsettling.
One of the more common interpretations of the film is that it's a statement against Native American genocide. This theory is hard to ignore, with one line essentially explaining the reason for the hotel's haunted history being that it's built on an Indian burial ground. True to Kubrick's bid for mystery in the film, the line evades most audiences on the first view. However, there are fairly obvious undertones that support this theory throughout the film, from the Native-inspired imagery throughout the hotel's decor to aforementioned musical cues that have a vague Native flavor. The hotel itself can represent white settlers' disregard for indigenous history, as they have no qualms about creating a new place to live in at the expense of Native lives. The blood that flows from the elevator can be interpreted as the blood of people who are buried (both literally and figuratively) beneath a behemoth of white colonialism.
I read all of these theories and made these analyses long after I decided The Shining was my favorite horror film. I'm sure all of this cohesiveness (or lack thereof) was Kubrick's intent, but what matters is that it all culminated in one of the most truly unsettling, albeit slow-paced films in the genre. It revels not in jump scares or gore, but in dread and atmosphere. It says more not with what it shows, but what it doesn't show. For myself, some of the most frightening moments in the film are of characters simply having a discussion or walking through the hotel.
It's a must see for horror fans and film fans alike. I think everyone should watch it at least once. Just be prepared for a few sleepless nights.
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