Brian Wilson-Smile & John Waters' Cry-Baby DVD Reviews

 Brian Wilson Presents Smile Rhino Home Video Mired in mystery for 37 years, the most famous unreleased album of the rock era, Brian Wilson’s Smile, is a mystery no more. Rhino recently released an impressive double DVD set. Brian Wilson Presents Smile, a chronicle of the rebirth and completion of the legendary album.Disc one is the documentary Beautiful Dreamer: Brian Wilson And The Story of Smile, a look into the initial recording, resurrection and completion of the album. Disc two is the first public performance of Smile in London in 2004. The DVDs are attractively packaged in a white plastic case with the Smile logo on the front and includes a colorful foldout poster. Originally conceived by Wilson and co-writer Van Dyke Parks as a concept album about a journey from the East Coast to Hawaii, the original recording sessions for Smile began in earnest in 1966 while the rest of the Beach Boys were on tour. At the time, much was made of Wilson’s genius, reverently highlighted in the old newspaper and magazine clippings featured in the documentary Beautiful Dreamer. The documentary reveals a playful genius coming into his own. The camaraderie between Wilson, Van Dyke Parks and other original collaborators like is instantly evident in the documentary. Beautiful Dreamer omits any substantial mention of Wilson’s long-time struggle with depression or his advisor Dr. Eugene Landy, but instead concentrates on the positive aspects of Smile and its’ rebirth. The lost years we only get through still pictures. Wilson was given free reign too young, in heady, freewheeling times. Much credit has to go to Wilson’s wife Melinda and Darian Sahanaja, the musical director for live debut to helping resurrect Wilson’s musical ambitions. Wilson’s road to initial success as a Beach Boy was speedy but troubled. As a kid in Hawthorne, California, he was the victim of a cruel, abusive father, a failed musician who lived vicariously through his children. (For a complete bio of the Beach Boys, see the excellent history Heroes and Villains by Steven Gaines.) Smile’s concert debut in London in 2004, features a cast of vocalists and the Stockholm Strings And Horns. During Barnyard and Mrs. ‘O Leary’s Cow, the musicians don fire hats and kazoos. Every looks like they’re having fun. The ensemble cast, including keyboardist Darian Sahanaja boost Wilson’s morale and bring his genius to life. Although the sunny and silly aspirations of Smile seem very connected to its’ 1960s roots, in reality the piece is timeless and buoyant as the title suggests. The original concept, a cross-country trip from Plymouth Rock to Hawaii, endures with snippets of music. After the initial surfin’; hits and the acclaim heaped on Pet Sounds, Brian Wilson went into seclusion to work on Smile, a concept album ala Sergeant Pepper. Van Dyke Parks was recruited as Wilson’s lyricist. Best known for his folksy storytelling on solo albums such as the eclectic song cycle, Parks was somewhat of an underground phenomenon in the music biz, with a career as a session musician and composer and lyricist. Parks’ inventive poetry proved the perfect counterpart to Wilson’s musical whimsy. The recording sessions are revealed as a creative free for all. Interviews with Parks, bassist Carole Kaye and others divulge a litany of hijinx designed to inspire in-studio creativity, including an exotic, made to order tent, and the infamous piano in the sandbox. Although some vocals were recorded when the Beach Boys tour ended, the overdue status of the material, Wilson’s mental state and a freak fire down the street after the recording of Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow, shelved the project indefinitely. Good Vibrations and Heroes and Villains survived unscathed from the sessions and became radio hits. in the late ‘60s, with a fresh, psychedelic spirit that made that made tamer radio fare of the day sound trivial. With the completion of Smile, Wilson’s long-dormant dream is fulfilled. Cry-Baby: The Director’s Cut Universal Studios Home Entertainment Cry-Baby, released by Universal Pictures in 1990, was the first Waters feature that was produced by a major studio, and it also heralded Johnny Depp’s transformation from 21 Jump Street teen idol to lead actor with specialty in quirky characters. Cry-Baby retains Waters’ inherent trashiness, despite the studio’s stipulation that the film procure a PG-13 rating. Set in Water’s beloved Baltimore, Cry-Baby’s plot concerns the charismatic Wade “Cry-Baby” Walker (Depp), the leader of the wrong side of the tracks Drapes, and his battle with the bland Squares led by Baldwin(Stephen Mailer) Amy Locane, in her first starring role, plays the Allison Vernon-Williams, the pretty young thing caught between these two worlds. A curious combination of Waters regulars, newcomers and pop culture icons round out the cast. Mary Vivian Pierce and Mink Stole (in an iron lung) make cameos. Other great cameos are Joey Heatherton, Joe Dallensdro. Troy Donahue, and Patty Hearst and David (Ozzie & Harriet) Nelso . Iggy Pop stars as Cry-Baby’s Uncle Belvedere. "Oh, you caught me in my birthday suite buck naked," Uncle Belvedere says as the Drapes come home to find him enjoying a bath in a big tin bucket. Oscar winner Susan Tyrell is Ramona, the Drapes’ matriarch, and, judging by some of Waters’ commentary, was just as outlandish in real life as her character was onscreen. Traci Lords, in her first foray into respectable acting, is sharp and funny in a parody of a pouting sexpot in a tight skirt. Ricki Lake, in her pre talk show days, is Cry-Baby’s sister, the tough, perpetually pregnant Pepper Walker. The director’s cut DVD contains deleted scenes and a commentary. including musical numbers cut from the theatrical release, a subplot involving Lords and a sleazy “art” photographer, and the obligatory Waters gross-out scenes involving bodily fluids. The story, as Waters explains it in the It Came From Baltimore featurette, is based on the real Drapes and Squares from early 1950s Baltimore. Of course, Waters idolized real-life Drapes as a kid, but was never fully initiated into the fraternity. Cry-Baby, he explains, is a homage to his childhood fascination. The soundtrack, a blend of original early ‘50s doo-wop and rockabilly and songs written specifically for the film, is stellar and stands on its own musically. Even though Johnny Depp did have a passable singing voice, Cry-Baby’s vocals were provided by L.A. rockabilly singer James Inveltd. Rachel handled Amy Locane’s vocals. Lending more rockabilly cred to the soundtrack are High School Hellcats and King Cry-Baby, original songs written or co-written by the Blasters’ Dave Alvin.

Blue Ash-No More, No Less CD Review

The Blue Ash story is one of rock’s best kept secrets. Formed in Youngstown, Ohio in 1969, Blue Ash were a powerpop outfit in the same vein as Cleveland’s Raspberries, albeit with a harder edge. Of course, the term “powerpop” hadn’t been coined yet; then it simply meant good pop music. Blue Ash and the Raspberries played on the same bill often back in Ohio. The band’s name is taken from a real town in Ohio, though none of the members were born or raised there. Four long haired guys done up all nice, in striped jackets and white ankle boots, Blue Ash countered the disheveled hippie look favored by Midwestern rock bands at that time.

Mercury Records won a bidding war, signed them, and the underground classic No More No Less hit the shelves in 1973. Collector’s Choice recently rescued the album, out of print for over 30 years, from obscurity with a CD edition. Even a cursory listen of No More, No Less makes one wonder why the album wasn’t all over the airwaves in ‘73.

“Abracadabra (Have You Seen Her?)” is a crossbreed between garage rock and frilly power pop that served as a precursor to bands like the Nerves and the Plimsouls. (The Records included it as a bonus track on one of their albums). Singer Jim Kendzor alternates between effortless, uptempo delivery and emotive wailing to make the tune something special. The song has a timeless quality that surely sounded as good crackling though a transistor radio as it does streaming through an iPod. Where were these guys when the radio audience at large was force fed a steady diet of Lobo, Helen Reddy and Cher doing cheesy story-songs like "Dark Lady"?

“Dusty Old Fairgrounds” a previously unrecorded Dylan song when Blue Ash adapted it for No More, No Less. For a Dylan song performed by Blue Ash, it sure sounds like the Who! Drummer Dave Evans exudes Keith Moon frenzy on this one. You could slip it right at the end of Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy without disrupting the flow. “Just Another Game” has country pop undertones more reminiscent of the The Byrds than any of Blue Ash’s power pop brethren. The catchy "Plain to See" has one of those choruses that gets stuck in your head, with a pop sensibility that captures the essence of bouncy and melodic Brit pop bands from the Searchers to Freddie and the Dreamers. Likewise, the wistful lyrics of “I Remember a Time” wrapped in a bright, sugary base of smooth harmony vocals and jangly guitar.

Blue Ash had the (mis)fortune of being signed to Mercury by Paul Nelson shortly after the stiletto heeled appearance of the New York Dolls on the same label. Blue Ash toured around the States, opening for iconic acts like Aerosmith, Ted Nugent, and Iggy and the Stooges to support the album. No More, No Less made many critics’ Top 10 lists for 1973. Chicago Sun Times writer Bob Greene championed them in his column a few times and named them the best American band of the 1970s. Bass guitarist Frank Secich begins the reissue’s liner notes by mentioning Greene’s penchant for the band. None of the buzz impressed Mercury, and they dropped the band shortly thereafter. After a few singles and another album on Playboy Records, followed, but soon that label folded.

The band continued to write and record until 1979, many of the songs contained on the Not Lame compilation Around…Again covers the band’s 10 year history. Blue Ash called it quits at decade’s end with over 200 songs written and/or recorded. A sidenote- Blue Ash bass player Frank Secich played on fellow Ohioan Stiv Bator’s solo album Disconnected and also contributed a solo song to a Stiv Bators tribute album out of Italy. Luckily, Blue Ash are back together, currently playing shows in Ohio and Pennsylvania. They even have their own blog and MySpace. The reissued No More, No Less is selling briskly on Amazon.com, proving that it’s never too late to pick up where you left off.

The Cult "Love" Live Tour

The Cult will embark on a tour of the U.S. and Europe later this summer to perform one of their seminal albums in its entirety. Fear not, music purists, I don’t mean Sonic Temple. It’s Love, of course, the 1985 goth/alternative/rock masterpiece.

This is great news on many fronts. It gets the boys away from cover song side projects and back to the Cult’s own legacy. Ian is no longer channeling Jim Morrison in Riders on the Storm (see reprint below), and although Billy may occasionally play a gig with yet another incarnation of Camp Freddy, the boys are recording new songs in L.A. Finally!!


Here’s a clip of the Cult performing “She Sells Sanctuary” from a 1987 BBC telecast.





21st Century Doors-The Story Begins


Last Thursday in Los Angeles, the Rolling Stones played a free
concert at Staples Center. The following night, the Doors played the
Universal Amphitheater. Can you imagine if a rock fan had been
cryogenically frozen in, say, 1970, had been thawed last week, and
looked at the concert listings. "Hey, I told you guys to freeze me
for 33 years, not 6 months!," he might protest. Funny how geezers are
outselling and/or outpublicizing many of their younger counterparts
these days. Latest item - the Doors - er, the 21st century Doors
consisting of original band members Ray Manzerak (keyboards) Robbie
Kreiger (guitar), Cult vocalist Ian Astbury, bass player Angelo
Barbari, drummer Stewart Copeland (or someone else as the drummer,
I'm not sure as of this writing.) A tour featuring all the old
Doors songs... It's not that the remaining band members created stacks of
hit material the last 30 years, so this is it. The tour will be sort
of a tribute to Jim and the Doors music. New material is allegedly in
the works to be written by Jim Carrol, John Doe, et al, and is due
later in the year.* The pesky fact that original drummer John Densmore
filed a lawsuit against the 21st Century Doors hasn't stopped the
project.

A few months ago, VH-1 debuted a show "Graveside Groupies" which
highlighted the escapades of fans who weren't even born when
their idols died. One day last year, I encountered my own version of this
phenomenon. I hung out at Barney's Beanery in L.A. with a bunch
of kids who were either in kindergarten or not even a glimmer in
daddy's eye when Jim Morrison died, relating where exactly Jim
held court in the infamous restaurant and pointing to his old "home",
the Alta Cienega Motel. Yes, I visited Room 32 once, sneaking in when the
motel manager wasn't around. Later, my friend and I surmised that
Jim's ghost was there. (I think they've eliminated Room 32
since then.) Face it, Jim captured all the signposts of rock stardom
perfectly. Drugs, alcohol, poetry, buffoonery, sleazy groupies, a
soulmate (Pam), a celebrated court case for indecent exposure, and
all the other attributes that comprise a legend. And he died in a
bathtub in Paris. Couldya get more romantic than that?

Although tickets for the February 7 Universal Amphitheater gig sold slowly at first, it sold out a few days before the concert. A handful of warm
up mini-shows (the Harley Davidson Fest during the summer and radio
station sponsored shows at the House of Blues) received praise from
the few who attended. Once good word of mouth and the radio station
panzer PR machine hiked into gear, the naysayers didn't have a
chance. It appears that all's well that ends - or begins - well.
The wacky cross-section of fans at the Universal show consisted of old
boomers reliving their halcyon days and kids hyped up on years of
myth. A good time was had by all, replete with stage rushing at the
end. Perhaps people are thirsting for something more than style over
substance MOR pop and recreating. Even three local Doors tribute
bands are advertising more heavily in the L.A. Weekly and similar
papers. So who is still kvetching? Well, as of Feb 9 the Densmore
lawsuit is still a go. Last summer he wrote a piece for The Nation
citing his desire to keep the Doors catalog out of TV commercials and
other non-pure venues. So as always, there's one dissenting
voice. Of course, a band without an occasional quarrel
is not a very good one; a history of fisticuffs is even better.

Now, if one were going to keep a rock legacy intact, i.e. no reunion
tours, no fiddling with the memory, this would be one of 'em. Well,
it's too late now. As long as the project doesn't go on indefinitely
and wear out its welcome**, it shouldn't be construed as a "black
mark" on the Doors legacy. Jim's not here anymore, but the songs are.
And at the end of the day, that's what it's all about.


*Never released
** 2007, Ian replaced by the singer from Fuel. As of June 2009, he's still there.

The Woolly Bandits-Woman of Mass Destruction CD Review

It’s hard to lump the Woolly Bandits in with other garage rock or retro psychedelic bands. Their new CD Woman of Mass Destruction (Citation Records) elements of many genres, more of a theatrical version of garage rock/psychobilly, psychedelic rock, surf, you name it, but it’s a BIG sound, not the pared down sonic noise associated with garage bands. This quintet takes full advantage of every band member’s talent, and blends it into twelve bouncy and entertaining songs. The Woolly Bandits got their start as the backup band for ‘60s psych-rock legend Sky Saxon. The Bandits’ bass player and spokesperson Rik Collins says, “This line-up has only been together eight months. It’s kind of a mutt the way the band started. We’re kind of like a bastard band. It started when I was playing with Sky Saxon.” Rik says. At the time, Arthur Lee (of “Love” fame) was touring with a young band backing him up, and Rik convinced Sky to follow suit. Sky and his back-up band went on to record an album and do several European tours. “I was the manager, bass player, musical director, and booker cause Sky was an old friend of mine I met in the late 80s, early 90s”, says Rik. Sky’s back-up band soon struck out on their own. The first incarnation of the Woolly Bandits imploded after recording an album called Say Hello to My Little Friend in 2005. Then fate intervened and Rik met powerhouse vocalist/future wife Christa, keyboard player Johnny “Keys” Langdon, and guitarist Tracy “Skull” Garcia. That left the usually hard to fill drummer position. After auditioning several drummers and turning up empty-handed, the band finally recruited Rikki Styxx through a mutual friend and the Bandits’ current lineup was complete. On Woman of Mass Destruction, this Inland Empire, California based band takes the garage rock/ psychedelic sound of the Seeds and embellishes it with a bit of Cramps psychobilly. Then they add a pinch of Hollywood a Go-Go theatrics for a complete rock ‘n’ roll experience that’s great on CD and even better live. The Woolly Bandits show is a full-throttle, Farsifa filled shindig, complete with Christa’s frenetic stage persona and occasional appearances by go-go dancers. Woman of Mass Destruction is garage rock, it’s mod, its frugging ‘60s fun, it’s sexy, it makes you wanna shake your booty. Each song has its own flavor. “Devil Doll Stare” sounds like X because that’s what the band was going for, according to Rik. As he and Christa trade off vocals ala John and Exene.”Watch Your Step” is punctuated with hiccup-y Dale Bozzio vocals, while the thrashy breathlessness of “Devil’s On My Back” keeps you waiting for the next surprise. Xylophone and a Vox Jaguar organ underscore the flirty “Cambodia Girl” And the CDs closer is a cover of the Specials “Gangsters.” Sounds like the Woolly Bandits have it all down -and then some. Woman of Mass Destruction is available from the Citation Records website

Lives Of Quiet Desperation - "The Good Girl" and "One Hour Photo"

Jennifer Aniston and Jake Gyllenhaal in "The Good Girl"

(A slightly different version of this review appeared on Modamag.com in 2002 under my other byline, Marianne Moro.)

Feisty but unfulfilled women have always played prominent roles in film and literature. In Thelma and Louise, they choose death rather than return to their previous lives. In Madame Bovary, the heroine suffers a slow spiritual and emotional suicide til her body finally gives out, too. In The Piano, she chooses a new life. In the Jennifer Aniston film, The Good Girl, the character of Justine Last does the right thing - even though both her choices are pretty dismal, she chooses the lesser of two evils. Her life of quiet desperation is punctuated by a few bouts of noisy desperation.

The theme of "The Good Girl" is that of the woman trapped in a routine and groundless life by marrying the wrong man. This tried and true formula was bereft of humor til Thelma and Louise. Like ”Thelma and Louise”, The Good Girl has its funny moments, but overall, it's a less tragic, modern extension of Madame Bovary. Justine (Jennifer Aniston) marries her schleppy high school sweetheart, Phil (John C. Reilly), whose saving grace is that, like Charles Bovary, he is utterly clueless. No wonder Justine is drawn to young, mysterious co-worker Holden at the Retail Rodeo, played by Jake Gyllenhaal. (Classic exchange upon their first meeting - Justine - "I notice you don't socialize much. Holden -"I'm a writer.")

The psychological ramifications of a vacuous marriage are the same for a man, I suppose; though he can't be called a slut if he seeks solace elsewhere. Most indicative of this emptiness is the scene where Justine has to choose between staying with her sick friend and a tryst with Holden, when a quick shot of adrenaline becomes more important than anything else.




There's a long road from the likable but flawed Jennifer Aniston character in "The Good Girl" to the creepy photo clerk played by Robin Williams in One Hour Photo. Both films feature dead-on performances by actors generally known as comedians. Both delve into lives of quiet desperation that eventually explode. For Sy Parrish in One Hour Photo; there is no respite, no one to go home to - well, no one real anyhow. Meticulously plotted and antiseptic as the polished Sav-mart floors Sy walks on, repression and rage replace the camaraderie of the “Good Girl’s” Retail Rodeo. In the big glossy suburban world the gap between normal folks is wide enough, but in Sy 's case, it's more like a chasm. Usually, you'd feel sorry for such a character, but here the ickiness factor is immediate and all consuming. Even the noble reason given for his actions at the end doesn't engage our sympathies.

Both films exhibit a colorless suburbia that unwittingly becomes a character on its own. The Retail Rodeo, the Sav-mart and the upscale hotel in One Hour Photo are vanilla bland. It's no accident empty lives are played out in such an atmosphere.

You Can't Get It on DVD-The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane

Following roles as a prostitute in Taxi Driver, and a heavily made up gun moll in Bugsy Malone, the prepubescent Jodie Foster seemed doomed to portray trollops on her way to adulthood. But before Jodie played the uber-intelligent mother hen to a bunch of wayward teenage girls in Foxes, (1980), she shed the pre-teen vamp look in a relatively unknown film called The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane. Foster portrayed Rynn Jacobs, the quick-witted, independent daughter of an English poet. She’s 13 but she talks and acts like an adult, and lives alone in a big house with her hamster. Her father is no where to be found, and she hides this fact from the snooping landlady, Mrs. Hallet (Alexis Smith) and her creepy, pedophile son Frank (Martin Sheen), who has a rep around town for hounding young girls. It turns out Dad committed suicide and made financial plans for Rynn to live alone in a rented house in New England after his death. Based on a novel by Laird Koening, who adapted it for the screen, the film played briefly in theaters in late 1976/early 1977. Rynn spends her time studying Hebrew, cooking and listening to classical music and has little contact with other humans. In the opening scene, Rynn walks over a bridge one crisp morning. Despite the lovely coastline scenery, there’s a tense melancholy emanating from the screen. Somehow we know from the opening shot no one’s going to live happily ever after. Mrs. Hallet needs her jelly glasses from the cellar but Rynn won’t let her downstairs. She’s hiding another secret. You guessed it-there’s a dead body down there. It happens to be Rynn’s evil Mum, who paid a visit to in search of her ex-husband and fell victim to Rynn’s ultimate revenge. But our anti-heroine does have pleasant contact with other residents of the small town. Officer Miglioriti (played by Mort Shuman, who was also the film’s music supervisor) pays friendly visits to check on Rynn. His nephew, amateur magician Mario (Scott Jacoby), befriends Rynn and they become romantically involved. (Yes, they go to bed together.) This shot was the deal-breaker for Foster, who refused to do a brief nude scene. Her older sister Connie served as a body double. The nude scene is one of the reasons Foster reportedly dislikes the film. Funny how another 1970s film, Blue Collar, yanked from DVD release after a few years, also incurred the wrath of one of its' principals, director Paul Schrader. This seems to be a trend with films not currently available on DVD. Hmmm.. Little Girl, initially promoted as a horror film, has no gore and has more of a thriller/murder mystery vibe. The performances drive the film here; Jacoby and Foster make a likable teen couple during their few brief scenes together; the viewer will definitely root for them to stay together and thwart the abhorrent Sheen and his nosy mother. Sheen played a lot of edgy roles quite convincingly in the 1970s (Badlands, Sweet Hostage with Linda Blair), before becoming renowned for Apocalypse Now and his political activism. Frank’s sly manipulation of Rynn turns into downright cruelty by film’s denouement. Clue: by the end of the movie, she doesn’t have a pet hamster anymore. The enterprising Rynn, however, has the last laugh. The premise of a 13 year old living alone in such toney circumstances seems preposterous even today. Imagine what it seemed like in 1976! But Foster does it so well, we suspend disbelief. Of course, if someone made an updated version of this movie, the protests would have it shelved before the first showing. A 13 year old girl living alone! Where’s child protective services? Or perhaps Rynn would be a masked, young female version of Freddie or Jason, systematically murdering the town’s inhabitants. *Sigh* I miss the unchecked subtlety and creativity of 70s cinema. The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane had many different VHS and DVD covers, lobby cards and posters during its release. 

Duff McKagan's Loaded-Sick CD Review

Sick
Duff McKagan's Loaded
Century Media


I just finished reading Greg Prato’s excellent book “Grunge is Dead: The Oral History of Seattle Rock Music” and Duff McKagan is quoted liberally in the first few chapters of the book, along with the usual Pearl Jam and Nirvana crowd. Seattle native McKagan played in local faves Ten Minute Warning and the Fartz, plying his skills as a punk rocker before moving to L.A. After GNR, he moved back to Seattle and earned a finance degree from Seattle University. He's currently a financial columnist for Playboy.com and is on tour with his Seattle-based band Loaded.

Now that Velvet Revolver has imploded, Duff is back to his Seattle punk/metal roots. Sick, Loaded’s third CD, is better than McKagan’s post GNR solo CDs and a notch above the other Loaded releases. The 13 songs on Sick remind us that McKagan, along with Izzy Stradlin, were the no-frills bluesy, rocking heart of GNR. Axl added bipolar showmanship , horn sections, and psychodrama; Slash contributed guitar histrionics, but Duff and Izzy were the core of that band.

Sick is just a simple hard rock album, and that's a relief amid all the subgenre death and thrash metal that leave the basic metal fan out in the cold. Duff plays guitar, not bass, and sings lead. He’s got a raspy voice that’s fine for the material here. The tunes have heart and sleaze without going overboard in either direction. There's the obligatory heartfelt ballad IOU, an apology to his wife for putting her through rock ‘n’ roll hell, the pensive Mother's Day, and lots of songs about past encounters with skanky broads and backstabbing friends. “Sick” kicks off the CD with the line "“Well, I’m sick/Yeah, I’m sick of you/You’re like Typhoid Mary/Mixed with Asian flu.” It's safe to say Duff's lyrics won't be quoted on any Hallmark greeting cards soon. The unabashed rockin’ continues with Sleaze Factory, Blind Date Girl and Duff’s take on Use Your Illusion’s Coma, called Flatline. So all the required rocker subject matter is here.

The band’s name is officially Duff McKagan’s Loaded, at the record company’s insistence. Name brand recognition and all that. If you liked Duff’s contributions to GNR,Velvet Revolver (& the Neurotic Outsiders!), you’ll like Sick.

Film Review-The Squid and the Whale

The Squid and the Whale
Written & Directed by Noah Baumbach
Running Time: 88 Minutes Rated R

The Squid and the Whale is loosely based on the unraveling of director Noah Baumbach parents' marriage in Park Slope, Brooklyn in the mid-1980s. (Baumbach is best known as the co-writer of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.) In this fluid, moving comedy-drama, there is no neat, happy ending or high drama. The Squid And The Whale has much more in common with French films like Murmur of The Heart and The 400 Blows that explore divorce, coming of age and sexual awakening than standard American fare like Kramer Vs. Kramer.

Jesse Eisenberg plays Walt Berkman, an intelligent but troubled 16 year old who subtly idolizes his Dad, struggling writer Bernard (Jeff Daniels). Joan Berkman (Laura Linney) has taken up writing as a second career, and fares much better than Bernard, receiving more accolades with less effort than her estranged husband. (The character of Joan is based on Baumbach's mother, former film critic Georgia Brown.) The Berkmans are certainly part of the literary community of Park Slope in the 1980s. Even the sparsely furnished rooms in their home say a lot about the family. Instead of sports posters, their apartment is decorated with a framed still from Breathless and a one-sheet from The Mother And The Whore. The intellectual milieu seems not to add depth to the family's relationships, but to steel them in icier terms. When the parents call 16 year old Walt and 12 year old Frank in for a "family meeting", their lives are thrown into disarray. Not that everything was hunky-dory beforehand. Frank Berkman, played with conviction by Owen Kline, (son of Phoebe Cates & Kevin Kline) deals with his anguish in other ways. He drinks beer and masturbates at school. Disquieting scenarios, perhaps, but the staggering honesty here exposes the ugly truths not only in Baumbach's own story in the stories of a thousand other children of divorce. During a school talent show, Walt cadges Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd as his own. After he's found out, he explains matter of factly to a school psychologist that "I felt I could have written it so the fact that it was already written was kind of a technicality."

The Squid and the Whale succeeds on several levels. Baumbach's script is literate and, at turns subtle, heartbreaking and wryly funny. The subtle yet thorny ways parents and their power plays and idiosyncrasies effect children is explored with depth and conviction. Walt idolizes his father and is Bernard's only ally until Bernard alienates him. As any child of divorce knows, most separations are not over the top National Enquirer dramas; the emotions they cause are subtle and manifest pain in different and sometimes bizarre ways. One can't judge Bernard, even though he has no apparent likable qualities. We just take him for what his is, and we don't hate him as one would a villain because his grief is so nuanced and real. All the performances in this film are equally impressive, but Daniels had the toughest canvas to draw on since Bernard is so self-absorbed.

Once a fêted literary novelist, Bernard has hit hard times in his career, garnering form rejection letters and half filled college poetry readings instead of awards. He still manages to attract a literary groupie, bold young student Lili (Anna Paquin). Father and son both vie for her affection. Bernard is so caught up in his own world that he has forgotten how to accommodate or even acknowledge the needs of those around him, including his family. He accompanies Walt and one of his dates, good girl Sofie, to a screening of Blue Velvet, not realizing that the film might be uncomfortable for the girl.

Joan takes up with quirky tennis instructor, Ivan (William Baldwin), who is in most ways, the opposite of Bernard. He becomes Frank's hero and father substitute. While Joan seems like the wronged party, revelations later in the film expose her as equally guilty for the break-up. Baumbach leaves the film's ending open to interpretation, as an unexpected turn of events draws the family together. Tender, funny, flawed and poignant, the characters in The Squid and the Whale could be your neighbors--or your own family. The film's unusual title refers to a diorama at the Museum of Natural History in New York.

Tori Amos - The Video Collection: Fade To Red

Tori Amos - The Video Collection: Fade To Red Rhino Home Video, 2006 The Backstory Tori Amos transformed herself from a gawky young girl named Myra, a minister's daughter and a child prodigy on the piano, performing in nightclubs as a young teen, to the fiery-haired earth goddess of the keyboards, a gay and feminist icon, the mistress of oblique yet intriguing lyrics, and well, a just plain dippy broad to some. Late in 1999, I went to a concert at Jones Beach in New York that featured co-headliners Alanis Morrisette and Tori Amos. It was one of the few concerts my roommate at the time and I agreed to attend together. I was a Monster Magnet gal and she was a Billy Joel gal, but we found middle ground in Tori. My roomie and I waited at the bus stop to the venue with group of teen and twentysomething girls, some of them accompanied by a wimpy, metrosexual boyfriend. It certainly was a girl's night out; I even got my period unexpectedly. (I know, too much information.) Tori wasn't especially talkative that night, but just to see her at the piano, flowing red hair in the spotlight, crouched defiantly over the piano bench, was enough to summon Persephone back from the underworld. My review was simple. "Tori is a goddess,"I e-mailed my friends when I got home. Being an old metal/biker/punk chick from day one, this was a weird assortment of concertgoers to behold, much less join. Aah, the things I did for Tori. But Tori, you know, started out as a metal chick in the late '80s. Soon after moving to L.A., she got signed and released Y Cant Tori Read (see video above.) Matt Sorum played drums, and Rick Nielsen and Robin Zander sang backup vocals on one of the songs. A few years later, Tori dumped the Aqua Net and became the ditzy poetess of the piano we all know and love. Even musical prodigies fell prey to the big hair-metal of the 80s. By the time 1999 rolled around, Tori had long been the poster girl for post-feminist singer/songwriters in a way that Sarah McLachlan or Alanis Morrisette could never claim. Tori, you see, was balanced in her approach. She was worldly, bohemian, glamorous, arty, sexy (everyone-gay, straight, male, female could agree on this point) and obviously intelligent and well-read. Though her you could never be quite sure what her lyrics actually meant. Not that Tori has ever cleared that up to anyone's satisfaction. If an interviewer asked her about a song's meaning, Tori's explanation only complicated matters. Still, she was one of the more intriguing, literate figures in '90s music. Under The Pink was the first Tori album I bought. Icicles seemed vaguely to be about masturbation/sexual awakening, The Waitress about female rivalry. Cornflake Girl, while oblique to most, had a special meaning to me. "Never was a cornflake girl/thought it was a good solution/ hanging with the raisin girls/I'm going to the other side/giving them the old heave-ho/" I must have played this song 50 times in a row, crying til my blouse was soaked with tears. I had just moved from New York to my hometown of Chicago and was in a holding pattern, wondering whether to go to Los Angeles or back to New York. As a female archetype, I didn't qualify as an L.A. woman (cornflake) or as a N.Y woman (raisin). Rather, I was like Tori in the "Cornflake Girl" video, driving the truck and twirling on the gym bars while the cornflake and raisin girls fought over a tied up studboy. (Eventually I wound up in New Orleans, fashioning my own interpretation of a "cornflake girl.") Every Tori song means something slightly different to each listener. Since her lyrics aren't linear, they are open to individual interpretation. I'm sure someday a women's studies professor will teach a course on Tori's lyrics. Her fans are notoriously attached to her, although the hysteria of her mid-90s fame has waned. Her most ardent fans vent their fascination on websites and messageboards and in the occasional painting or tattoo. There's even a doll designer who based one of her first creations on Tori. While working as a production coordinator for a doll collector magazine in the mid-90s, I noticed that one of the fairy dolls in an ad bore an uncanny resemblance to a certain redheaded singer. The Muse A Spin magazine cover article on Tori in November 1999 caused quite a tizzy when Tori and the artist Pat Kochie took issue with some of the writer's fact checking abilities. Pat and her husband are still fashioning dolls. Contact them at patkochie@aol.com. So far this decade, Tori has given us The Beekeeper and Scarlet's Walk, two ambitious, adult works that demonstrate Tori is determined to grow as an artist, even if that means forsaking some of the emotional overload of her earlier songs. While The Beekeeper delves into autobiographical themes, now told from the POV of a 40ish married woman with a child, the obtuse lyrics are still intact. Tori still remains one of pop music's most evocative lyricists. She's less arty than Bjork and not as ethereal as Kate Bush. In many ways, her words connect more with listeners on a personal level because the emotions and images tell a story-even if we're left with a cliffhanger most times. The Videos Disc One Past The Mission-Tori leads a group of black clad women of all ages through a village in Spain as they receive bemused glances from the local men. Tori encounters a priest. The women lie down while the priest walks around them to join the men. And then the women make their escape. A straightforward video, not the usual surreal riddles we've come to expect. (Under The Pink) Crucify- Tori in bondage dress baptized in bathtub. Multiple Toris cheerleading in waitress uniforms. She peers through cut-outs prominent in all her videos from Little Earthquakes. On the audio commentary, Tori talks about Victorian gowns and the beheading of Anne Boleyn. I have no idea what that has to do with the finished version of the video. Jackie's Strength- Tori as runaway bride in a taxi goes for a spin around the neighborhood as groom laments. Scenes from Tori's life whiz by as she watches her neighbors and family from the taxi window. (Choirgirl Hotel) A Sorta Fairytale-An animated fairy tale on the streets of downtown L.A. Tori is not a whole person, she's only a head and a leg. Her suitor (Adrien Brody) has suffered the same fate as an arm/head combination. Their resulting love makes them whole by the end of the video An unusual combination of a story and special effects. (Scarlet's Walk) Winter--Tori at the piano. Another stark, all white video. She dances with a group of little kids who are wearing flower headgear, and revisits her relationship with her father. In the audio commentary, Tori explains how she burst into tears at one point she was so overcome with emotion and her make-up had to be redone. If you watch the last shot closely, you can see that Tori is still holding back the tears. (Little Earthquakes) Spark-- Stylish concept video with Tori as kidnap victim who escapes from car trunk. She stumbles through the forest while her kidnapper follows her. She manages to find her way to the road. There is a chance of escape-- but not for long. (Choirgirl Hotel) Sleeps With Butterflies- A video based on the artwork of Aya Kato features Tori in a variety of costumes, sitting on a mushroom, surrounded by-what else-butterflies. (The Beekeeper) Cornflake Girl-The American version of the video, filmed on a cheesy set that evokes the Southwestern U.S. Tori drives a pick-up truck while the raisin girls and cornflake girls brawl in the truck bed. Tori and the girls dance around the hapless stud as he sits in a bucket of water chopping up a carrot. Phallic reference? You're for dinner? Or both? (Under The Pink) Hey Jupiter--A distraught, smoky-eyed Tori is rescued from a burning building by a little blonde girl (an angel?) and ostensibly saved from her addiction, crisis, or abusive relationship. Or perhaps the little girl is guiding her to the afterlife. (Boys For Pele) Silent All These Years--In another grainy, white early video, Tori flings around in orange and blue miniskirt and rolls back and forth in a wooden box. A cute little girl dances defiantly against the stark background. (Little Earthquakes) Disc Two Caught A Lite Sneeze--I can't for the life of me figure out these lyrics. Pretty Hate Machine is another Trent reference (Tori mentioned Nine Inch Nails in These Precious Things), but I can't offer even a vague interpretation of anything else. The video begins with Tori rolling around on a floor covered with autumn leaves. A surrealistic ocean scheme keeps the lyrical riddle flowing. (Boys For Pele) 1000 Oceans--One of Tori's most decipherable love songs. "I know how the game Is played/ but I will be here following you." Tori, dressed in a black gown, sings the song in a glass box on a street in downtown L.A. Street people, quarreling lovers, and nuns pass by, some intrigued by the imprisoned singer, some disgusted. A mini L.A. riot occurs as Tori sings in her isolation booth, aching for human contact. (To Venus And Back) God-- See what happens when your Dad is a Methodist minister? "God sometimes you just don't come through/do you need a woman to look after you?" Rats scurry over Tori as she lies on the floor. We see scenes from various religious ceremonies, including snakehandlers, Kabbalah, and Hinduism. (Under The Pink) Bliss-- The obligatory live concert video. Tori and band engage in backstage camaraderie. Tori plays with a Teletubbie! A guitarist rides a bike in the hallway! Such rock 'n' roll decadance.. (To Venus And Back) China- Tori in grey bodysuit slithering on rocks by the ocean. A shot of broken china mixed in with the rocks is included for good measure. A sculptor works nearby, building a stone piano while Tori stares seductively at the camera and sings.China, an absolutely haunting love song, demonstrates Tori's ability to impart the intense longing one feels when separated from a lover by using disparate and deliberately obtuse imagery. (Little Earthquakes) Raspberry Swirl-- A bouncy and bass-heavy song that is an inch away from industrial. Tori follows a boy through his bedroom to a rave. She crawls through a tunnel. They end up at a dinner with kids in black wigs who turn into pigs. (Choirgirl Hotel-- her most underrated album.) Talula-- Captured by scientists, our girl is trapped in a plastic booth again, separated from her piano. (It's sealed in a booth next to her.) A scientist pokes and prods at her with scary looking medical instruments. Tori finally breaks out of the booth and runs to her piano. (Boys For Pele) Sweet The Sting- Our girl sings the blues, posing a sexual challenge of sorts to a lover. In the opening verse, the man in question struts in the room ala "You're So Vain." (Lyrical aside--So what is cinnabar juice, hmmm?) Tori and gospel back-up singers gather round the piano. Some behind the scenes shots of Tori and her musicians. (The Beekeeper) Pretty Good Year- Tori in her thermals sings the opening verse while sitting on an overstuffed chair in a white room. She jumps through a window, as glass shatters over the ivory void. Cut to Tori in bed, singing to her blonde lover boy, then dancing with a bunch of young studs in their underwear. (Little Earthquakes) Extras Cornflake Girl (UK Version) A plotless dream version of the video, loosely based on the Wizard Of Oz. Professional Widow (Remix) The Making of the "A Sorta Fairytale" Video Audio Commentary by Tori Amos

21st Century Punk Rock, Vol. 1 DVD Review

21st Century Punk Rock, Vol. 1 DVD
Attictan Records
Produced and Directed by Jackson Low


The title 21st Century Punk Rock, Vol. 1 sounds all-encompassing, as though it’s an encyclopedia of all things punk. However, this DVD focuses only on a small group of punk rock bands, from old-schoolers Shattered Faith to young upstarts like Homesick Abortions. Filmed on location in Southern California on an extremely low to nonexistent budget, 21st Century provides an inside look into the epicenter of a musical genre that has morphed from an underground life form to a homogenized mainstream force. In the opening snippet, Leo from the band Terezodu addresses this subject, noting that punk rock is now embraced by the masses and that even porn stars have Mohawks. “We’ve got to make people fear us again,” he says.

The interviews and clips that follow present bands, managers, fans and even a soundman who bear no resemblance to the cover girl and cover boy version of punk rock we see everyday in magazines and at fashion shows. From the Voids doing “L.A.P.D.” to the Krum Bums, Casualties, and Lower Class Brats, the punk here is fast ‘n rough and bears no resemblance to the cleaned-up pop punk of oh, say, New Found Glory. The bands represented are the descendents of the first wave of LA punk, i.e. the Germs, X, the Bags, and so forth. During one clip, you can almost smell the sweat and pot smoke as a promoter admonishes a bunch of unruly fans for fighting during a set. True punk rock minus the embellishments still exists in the States--mostly in Southern California, for some cultural and ideological reason. 21st Century Punk Rock, Vol. 1 provides a “slice of life” look into this scene.

You Can't Get It On DVD-Looking For Mr. Goodbar

Even though 1977’s Looking for Mr. Goodbar starred Diane Keaton, Oscar nominee Tuesday Weld, and introduced a very young Richard Gere to movie-goers, it’s currently unavailable for consumption by the American public on DVD. The seedy, sad but eloquently acted morality tale, set against the backdrop of the swingin’ Manhattan singles scene, was based on Judith Rossner’s best-selling novel. That book, in turn, was gleaned from the harrowing details of an actual NYC crime. The real life murder of teacher RoseAnn Quinn was even more shocking than the movie’s version.

The all-star cast features William Atherton, Richard Kiley, Richard Gere, Alan Feinstein, Tom Berenger, Priscilla Pointer, Laurie Prange, Joel Fabian, and LeVar Burton in addition to Keaton and Weld. The disco soundtrack (also out of print) included the O' Jays “BackStabber”, Marlena Shaw singing the theme “Don’t Ask to Stay Until Tomorrow”, and Thelma Houston’s “Don’t Leave Me This Way”. If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll never think of that song the same way again.

Theresa Dunn (Keaton), a victim of childhood scoliosis, still lives at home with her strict Irish parents. She’s perpetually sparring with her Dad, played by Kiley in a one-dimensional role as the stereotypical domineering Roman Catholic father. Is a Roman Catholic ever portrayed as thinking, feeling person in any Hollywood movie? I loved the scene where he’s stomping around the house in a Notre Dame jacket while he berates Theresa. Talk about the screenwriter overstating his point!

Free-spirited stewardess sister Katherine (Weld) comes to visit at Christmas. She’s just married a rich Jewish guy who’s into into group sex, and she invites Theresa to their apartment to party. Theresa hangs out with them while they watch a porno. She seems intrigued by this, and soon she’s rented an apartment downstairs from the swinging couple. After getting acclimated to her dimly-lit, roach-ladden digs, she begins frequenting local singles bars, smoking and drinking and looking for one-night stands. Is her newfound wantonness an attempt to imitate her hot, confident sister and/or a chance to rebel at her strict upbringing?

Theresa loses her virginity to her married college professor (Alain Feinstein) and then dumps him. Richard Gere plays Tony, her on-again, off-again stud. In one scene, she matter of factly picks up a chubby furniture salesman for a one night stand. By this time, her rapidly deteriorating self-respect and sense of judgment are out of control. Theresa’s outward personality lacks any softness or vulnerability. This slatternly behavior contrasts with her day job as a dedicated teacher of deaf children. At night, she’s the opposite of the tender, patient woman her students know and love.

Theresa buys coke from a pusher in her favorite bar’s restroom. She’s unacquainted with drug lingo and barely knows how to snort the stuff. This is more depressing than funny because we realize it can only further enhance her downward spiral. While Theresa is sowing her wild oats, sister Katherine has an epiphany about her own lifestyle. After years of ditzy and irresponsible behavior, she gives up drugs, alcohol and promiscuity. This revelation doesn’t deter Theresa from her hedonistic path. Katherine’s warning goes completely over her head.

The final sequence in Looking for Mr. Goodbar is frightening in a very real way, partly because we’ve come to know the character as a human being, not just another tic in a body count. Since Goodbar was released in 1977, we’ve learned to expect gore and close-up sensationalism in murder scenes, but the stark realism of Theresa’s last moments is more disturbing than high-tech horror because it’s authentic, because it focuses on the victim’s struggle and not just the sadistic killer. And it takes place by strobe light in a dark room. I may have said too much, but even if you know that, the ending will still haunt you when you see it.

The men in Looking for Mr. Goodbar are all creepy, and I’m not talking about just the murderer. There’s Richard Gere in his first well-known film role as coarse Italian stud Tony. Alan Feinstein as Terri’s college professor/lover is standoffish and cold, and Tom Berenger makes his big-screen debut as the violent, sexually confused ex-con who does her in. Even “good guy” William Atherton gives a disturbing monologue about his parents having sex. LeVar Burton, in a small role as the older brother of one of Theresa's students, is the only noble male character. He punches Tony’s lights out when he harasses Theresa on the school playground.

In Looking for Mr. Goodbar, a woman who sleeps around is an emotionally confused victim, but by 1987’s Fatal Attraction, the lead female character was not only sexually promiscuous, but obsessed and violent as well. That’s women’s lib for ya!

A VHS tape version of Looking For Mr. Goodbar was released in 1997, and there are copies for sale on Amazon.com and eBay. There’s no word from any official source yet as to why it hasn't been released on DVD.

Wacky TV Horror Movie Hosts-Svengoolie & Son of Svengoolie

L.A. had Elvira, Chicago had Svengoolie. Radio announcer Jerry G. Bishop donned a long green wig, sunglasses and ghoulish makeup to become the wisecracking hippie horror host Svengoolie. He hosted “The Screaming Yellow Theater”, which originated on WFLD-Channel 32 in 1970 and ran til 1973. The guitar strumming Svengoolie performed skits and told bad jokes in between segments of grade C and D horror movies. Some of Sven’s skits included Carbon Monoxide Speedway and Svengoolie Street (clip below).

The show began each week with a guest coffin opener freeing Sven from his tomb. Local celebs like White Sox players usually did the deed, but even Bette Midler and Barry Manilow pried open Sven’s coffin on their way to fame. And Sven got away with lots of double entendres considering the show ran in the early 1970s. Sven sometimes “choked his chicken" (one of the omnipresent rubber chickens thrown around the set) and once brought on stripper Tempest Storm to introduce the evening’s film. Such R-rated shenanigans surely went over the heads of the 10 year olds watching, but gave their parents a chuckle.


Svengoolie Street



Mad Man Sven's Used Cars



Rich Koz played the Son of Svengoolie on Creature Features in the early 1980s, resurrecting some of the old gags and adding plenty of new ones. Koz still portrays Svengoolie on WCIU-TV in Chitown.
Say it with me now--BER-WYN!!! (a much maligned Chicago suburb that served as the butt of many a Svengoolie joke )

Vampire Carpets



Putting on the Boot

Laurel Canyon: The Inside Story of L.A.’s Legendary Rock and Roll Neighborhood - Book Review

Laurel Canyon: The Inside Story of L.A.'s Legendary Rock 'and Roll Neighborhood by Michael Walker Haight Ashbury, Greenwich Village, Carnaby Street and Sunset Strip immediately evoke memories of the 1960s counterculture. Laurel Canyon remains a secondary point on L.A.’s musical roadmap as far as mainstream observers are concerned. Ironically, Laurel Canyon had more of a verifiable creative community than the more famous Sunset Strip, as evidenced by Michael Walker’s history, Laurel Canyon: The Inside Story of L.A.’s Legendary Rock ‘N’ Roll Neighborhood Walker deconstructs the history of the Canyon from its beginning as a playground for silent film stars like Tom Mix to the folkie era to the Canyon’s days as a gathering place for the crème de la crème of L.A.s 60s’ era rock ‘n’ rollers.

Morgana Welch

"Young Girls are coming to the Canyon", the Mama and Papas sang in 12:30 and they are indeed a part of the story here. Mama Cass is drawn as the earth mother of the scene, (Nash even says he doesn’t known what his life would be like if he hadn’t met her), while Michelle Phillips was the disruptive muse. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Joni Mitchell, and the Byrds were some of the enclaves’s most famous residents. Frank Zappa’s abode, a cabin that once belonged to silent film star Tom Mix, became the epicenter of Laurel Canyon’s social and creative community. An endless cast of characters visited the Zappa’s, from Mick Jagger and Marianne Faithfull to the ubiquitous GTOs, and Walker recounts their exploits. Pamela and Michael Des Barres, Kim Fowley and early 70s groupie Morgana Welch, who have probably been interviewed by most L.A. journalists and documentarians about the city’s rock and glam heyday, provide most of the background. Aside from Graham Nash, most of the interview subjects are record execs and scenesters like the Des Barres and Fowley, Crosby has only a few quotes. The Canyon's famous residents pose in front of the Country Store

Still, the book provides a nice overview of Laurel Canyon’s rise and fall. Not surprisingly, the community based on idealism and incense and hippie free love began to flounder after the Manson murders. The soulless, cocaine fueled excesses that followed in the mid-70s sent the artistic community into oblivion. While Laurel Canyon doesn’t deliver much in the way of new or startling information, it does serve as a good reference point for younger readers and those unfamiliar with the inner machinations of L.A. rock history.

Ace Frehley Co-Wrote This Gem

For Crazy Joe & the Variable Speed band. “Crazy Joe” aka Joe Renda, went on to produce the Jerky Boys. Released on Casablanca Records in the early 80s, here’s the cheesy video for this Dr. Demento fave about the hapless “Eugene,” who “sticks his hands in fans for fun”

Bang Your Head: A Fan Looks At Heavy Metal’s History

Director Sam Dunn hangs out with Ronnie James Dio

This review first appeared on Rock Confidential.com in May 2006 under my other byline, Marianne Moro.

Metal: A Headbanger's Journey, an hour and half foray into the world of heavy metal music from a fan’s point of view, screened at the American Film Institute’s Music Documentary Series at L.A.’s Arclight Theatre in 2006. Directed by Sam Dunn, a 30 year old Canadian anthropologist and metal fan, it's chock full of metal stars, near-stars, and (sometimes unintentional) humor. Even if you don't like metal music, there's plenty here to keep you amused. The director’s enthusiasm, in-depth research, and the cross-section of wacky interviewees keep you riveted. A 2-DVD version of the film is available from Warner Home Video Metal:A Headbanger’s Journey is the definitive metal documentary. It’s unusual to see a thoughtful, poignant and sometimes funny film about this much maligned genre. What’s most impressive are the charts that Dunn uses to track the various genres and subgenres. The general public’s perception that metal is one-dimensional music for dummies is disproved here. Dunn’s chart lists a dozen genres, including prog metal, death metal, pop metal, and glam. It’s not until you see the charts on the screen that you realize heavy metal has spawned and mutated into a dozen viable subgenres, each with its own distinct, sound, look and fan base. I won’t get into too much detail about the interviews themselves. The element of surprise plays a part in a few of them, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it for those planning to see the movie. We learn about the tritone, “the devil’s music” and how it was banned in medieval times and later incorporated into metal. The stars range from Bruce Dickinson, Tony Iommi, Rob Zombie, Alice Cooper, members of Slipknot and Lamb of God and the infamous Norwegian satanic metal bands, to Lemmy, Geddy Lee, and Ronnie James Dio. Ronnie offers several good-natured digs at Gene Simmons and explains how he adapted the devil’s horn symbol from his Grandma!! Angela Gossow, the first female vocalist to adapt the Cookie Monster growl, Doro, and members of Girlschool & Kittie round out the female contingent. The hair metal section is mercifully brief. We get an interview with Vince Neil and a KNAC guy commenting on the groupie scene of the time. Professor Deena Weinstein and rock crit Chuck Klosterman provide academic explanations of metal’s popularity. Klosterman, the author of Fargo Rock City :A Heavy Metal Odyssey in Rural North Dakota, bears a slight resemblance to Austin (Yeah, Baby) Powers, and has an infectious enthusiasm for metal that matches Dunn’s. Tom Araya of Slayer gets in the best quote of the movie regarding “God Hates Us All.” And this being metal there are a few unintentionally funny, Spinal Tap-ish moments, courtesy of the Waken Open Air Festival in Germany and the Norwegian black metal groups. The film features quite a cast of characters. I kept waiting to hear from Marilyn Manson, but he wasn’t included. Seems to me he would be a good addition to any discussion about music and evil. Maybe he wasn’t metal enough, who knows? Dunn even talks to a violence researcher about death metal band Cannibal Corpse. For those who don’t know, Cannibal Corpse album covers are low-rent Hieronymus Bosch parodies, with lots of cartoon blood, exploding flesh and skeletons. Aside--when I reviewed music back in NYC, Roadrunner Records sent me postcards with CC’s album covers on them. The music director of the company I worked for, a born-again Christian, would always very discreetly turn them face down when putting them on my desk. No documentary on heavy metal would be complete without a clip of Dee Snider testifying before the senate committee on “dirty” rock lyrics? Snider is a pretty sharp guy, despite his outlandish onstage persona, and Dunn’s interview with him proves this. The metalhead audience in attendance booed heartily when Tipper Gore appeared on the screen. That whole “Washington Wives” fiasco now seems like a bad SNL skit. Amazing how all the PMRC nitpicking about heavy metal has really helped eliminate “naughty” lyrics. Yeah, right. Now we have hardcore rap at the top of the charts, with lyrics that are eons worse than anything Twisted Sister could envision. By the way, you'll never guess who refused to be interviewed for the film-err-who wouldn’t let her husband be interviewed... Official site: Headbangers Journey Dunn also directed the documentary Global Metal

Saxon-Into The Labyrinth CD Review

Saxon’s Into the Labyrinth is brewed with the same formula that’s established them as as one of the “New Wave of Heavy Metal” bands that dominated UK metal in the early 1980s, along with Iron Maiden, Diamond Head, Tygers of Pan Tang and Girlschool, among others. Saxon have remained a steady fixture on the UK and European metal scene since then. One of their early albums was called “Denim and Leather” and that’s a good way to categorize their audience and their sound. Technically speaking, though, Into the Labyrinth's combination of unpretentious anthems like “Live to Rock ” and sinister operatic sagas like “Demon Sweeny Todd” are more for the earthy denim crowd than leather-clad types. Vocalist Biff Byford has a powerful voice that would command your attention even if he sang about gum wrappers blowing across the lawn. He’s in the same league as Halford, Bruce Dickinson, and Ronnie James Dio. In their 32 year history, Saxon did veer off to pop metal for awhile, but quickly regained their senses and returned to their signature sound.

Into the Labyrinth covers all the arena rock/operatic rock/bluesy basics that dominated metal in the early days. There’s nothing groundbreaking here, but that’s not the point. It’s all about taking a tried and true approach and making it better, faster and stronger. The CD opener “Battalions of Steel” begins with an ominous rumble and soaring anthemic chorus, then escalates with Biff Byford’s soaring vocals. His pipes are in great form, no wear and tear here. “Live to Rock” is self-explanatory, and perfect for head banging kids in the front row feigning air guitar “Valley of the Kings” traverses the same territory as Maiden’s “Run to the Hills”. Byford and guitarist Paul Quinn continue to produce the quality evergreen metal on Into the Labyrinth that defies trends and gives the true fan something to sink their teeth into-over and over again. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

And the Indie1031/Jonesy’s Jukebox Withdrawal Pangs Continue…

Artwork by Shepard Fairey thegiant.org

It’s going on 2 weeks now since Indie1031 and Jonesy's Jukebox went off the air, and I automatically glance at the clock at 12 bells. I mean 12 noon. And feel a wave of nostalgic sadness washes over me. In December 2003, I received a voicemail message from my boyfriend. Only his voice wasn’t on it. His cell, instead, was picking up something off the car radio. The recording was staticy and jumbled, and I could understand only bits and pieces. I pressed the cell phone against my ear. It was an English blokes singing something about “Don’t be a mug” Wait! It sounds like Jonesy, I thought…no, it can’t be! He’s doing a radio show on this new station? I’d been a Pistols fan since high school, with a special affection for Jonesy. I even had his two solo CDs. I was ecstatic! A few of my friends had waxed rhapsodic about hearing the Ramones and the Sex Pistols on 1031 frequency, so I turned on the radio. Now for an old person, this was unbelievable. In the 70s and 80s you couldn’t hear punk like the Pistols or X, much less Black Flag, except on college stations or once a week specialty shows on mainstream radio. Yeah, you could always listen to your CDs or the punk radio station on AOL, but listening to real punk on a terrestrial radio station while driving to work--NEVER! So, in Jan. 2004, Indie had no DJs or shows. Jonesy’s first show was only an hour, then expanded to 2 hours. He sounded so nervous on the first show and couldn’t really pronounce three properly--it sounded like “free". As time went on, of course, Jonesy evolved from a lovable bumbling bloke to the Pontiff, holding forth about life, love, and nonsense. He played Sweet songs other than Little Willy, novelty records by Diana Dors, and long-forgotten artists like Jobriath. I almost fell off my chair during every other song those first weeks. Soon after, he started interviewing people, initially only on Fridays. Jonesy’s interviews went against everything you ever learned in journalism school, and that’s why they were so funny and memorable. Ian Astbury was his first guest, and then he interviewed everyone from Vidal Sassoon to Lemmy, Shepard Fairey to old bandmates John Lydon and Paul Cook, Owen Wilson to C.C. Deville of Poison. Jonesy’s hysterical bits about nothing in particular were legion. “Did you ever think about not thinkin’?” he pondered philosophically one day. Somebody needs to compile a webpage and/or audio compilation of Jonesy’s words of wisdom. After e-mailing friends about the show daily, I finally relented and devoted a Jonesy webpage to daily reports from June 2004 to April 2006. Likewise, Stuart’s Jonesy blog continued til the show’s final days. Also, Chris and transcriber Floratina kept track of the shows at the Alternative Jukebox Jive Blog. Other celebrity DJs followed Jonesy’s lead. We had Camp Freddy on Saturday nights, led by Dave Navarro and Billy Morrison, and Henry Rollins’ Harmony in my Head. Henry being Henry, he talked as much as he played music. And his verbal sparring with assistant Heidi May was beyond hilarious. Some days, I spent every waking moment with Indie in the background and could barely get any work done, it was so interesting and distracting. What song would they play next? What celebrity would show up on Jonesy’s Jukebox or Camp Freddy? Pamela Des Barres hosted a Valentine’s Day show one year. Fabled A & R guy John Kalodner had a show for a few weeks. I woke up Sundays with Watusi Rodeo and went to bed with The Suicide Girls (well, not literally! Get your mind outta the gutter!) with Mr. Shovel’s Check One Two sandwiched in between. Aaah, memories. I won tickets to the first Indie concert at the Avalon from the station’s metal show before Jackie hosted it. The porn star who was co-hosting with the original DJs answered the phone when I called. Having a porn star on a metal show was the big thing in 2004-2006. As time went on, the shows evolved--or devolved-- and lost some of their sparkle. Maybe the novelty just wore off. It got to the point where there were too many specialty shows. Did we really need a mash-up show? Indie was too good to keep to myself, so I found people who loved it as much as I did. I discovered the infamous blog on the Indie site in 2005, and the Indie Yahoo Group. Later, some Jonesy’s Jukebox devotees formed a MySpace group called the Blogstars. There were outings to see The Filth and the Fury at the John Anson Ford Amphitheatre, Camp Freddy at the Key Club and other Indie sponsored shows. I have so many more Indie inspired stories and memories, but I’ll leave it at that or I’ll be typing all night. But as George Harrison sang, all things must pass, and the radio station I knew and loved succumbed to the corporate meanderings it once railed against. Now, it’s a Spanish language station “El Gato”. I tuned in one day. It sounded like Mexican polka music. Very sad. I shut the radio off and put on a B-52s CD instead. Indie remains online, sort of, playing the same mix of late ‘70s/early 80s punk they did at the beginning of their run. Some of the DJs have agreed to continue their weekly shows online, according to the revamped Indie website. Jonesy’s not among them. But it’s just not the same. Entravision and the ratings police just broke up that old gang of mine. More on the demise of Indie 1031-- LA Weekly Hitfix.com Indie Online

You Can't Get It On DVD-Blue Collar

Paul Schrader’s Blue Collar, a 1978 film about down on their luck autoworkers and corrupt unions, has gotten lost amid all of the writer/director’s other efforts (Raging Bull, Taxi Driver, Affliction, Hardcore, The Comfort of Strangers, etc.). Like Schrader’s other films, Blue Collar is lucid, powerful and depressing--almost too “real” for its own good. We all know work sucks, but in Blue Collar, it's soul-battering and ugly. The bosses at a Checker Cab plant in Detroit treat workers like dirt; their union doesn’t help them much, either. But money woes are the straw that breaks the camel’s back for the film’s protagonists--Jerry (Harvey Keitel) needs to buy his daughter braces , Zeke (Richard Pryor) is in trouble with the IRS, and Smokey (Yaphet Kotto) owes money to a loan shark. Pryor gives a riveting performance as opinionated loudmouth Zeke. He tells off his union rep about a broken locker and that comment snowballs into a scheme that gets the three friends in serious trouble. During a night hanging out with prostitutes at Smokey’s pad, they concoct a plan to steal money from the local union headquarters. The burglary scores only a few hundred dollars but the friends find an incriminating ledger full of high interest loans the union has made. The auto union announces the theft, claiming the amount stolen as $10,000 to collect on insurance. The trio attempts to blackmail union officials, but they’re ill-prepared for the Machiavellian twists and turns that come next. They find themselves caught in a web of pissed off FBI agents, union reps and police. What began as a simple theft turns into a deadly game that turns the friends’ lives upside down and pits them against each other in a every man for himself scenario. Zeke’s the only one who survives the web of deceit by turning into the type of person he detested at the beginning of the film. The film got good reviews, but languished at the box office. Richard Pryor’s star turn confused some people. In the late 1970s, Pryor was at the top of his game as a comedian, and a major dramatic role in a downbeat film didn’t fit in with his irreverent stand-up persona. A few moviegoers probably walked into the theater expecting a foul-mouthed comedy and got a morality tale filled with dirty words instead. Blue Collar boasts solid performances and a script that may be too heavy-handed for some tastes. Screenwriter Paul Schrader also directed this film, and he has said in interviews that the film’s stars fought behind the scenes during production, and Schrader himself seems to have disavowed the film. It was released on DVD by Anchor Bay in 2000, but has been “discontinued by the manufacturer”, according to Amazon.com. Why it’s currently unavailable on DVD is anybody’s guess. Ownership issues? Too controversial? Lackluster sales?