Monday, October 26, 2009

Pilot Season '09

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Tuesday, March 31, 2009

White Elephant Blogathon: The Tenth Victim


















I'd like to first thank Rufus and Ben over at Lucid Screening for inviting me to participate in their Third Annual White Elephant Blogathon. I couldn't pass up an opportunity to write about second-rate movies, and if nothing else I'm hoping it'll help motivate me to get back in the habit or writing on this thing regularly.

For those that are unfamiliar with the rules of this event, the idea is simple: everybody submits the title of a terrible movie, the titles are thrown into a hat, and each person is assigned one of these cinematic failures to watch and review. I, for the record, submitted 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain (the last and presumably worst of the franchise, IMDB rating = 2.1). In return I got Elio Petri's 1965 cult classic sci-fi exploitation flick, The 10th Victim (IMDB rating = 6.8). It's like going to your office's Secret Santa gift exchange with a Hickory Farms cheese log and getting an iPod. I can't help but feel a little guilty. Of course, this is not to suggest that The 10th Victim is a great film, or even a good film, but it's at least something that I don't feel dumber for having watched. On the bad movie spectrum with patronizingly stupid action movies and frat comedies on one end and unwatchably bizarre art films on the other, The 10th Victim falls squarely on the latter. It's the kind of film that art students will claim is one of their favorites while secretly wishing they were watching Beerfest every time they actually watch it. When I showed the movie to Erin, she recalled it being a favorite of the now defuct East Village dive Rififi to put on a big screen for hipsters to watch as they dance to eighties synth pop and drown away the misery of their own jaded indifference to the world. And like all good hipster obsessions, it's a film that's much cooler in theory than it is in practice.

The premise of The 10th Victim is unquestionably awesome. Set in a future where all mankind's aggression is chanelled into a legally sanctioned cat-and-mouse game in which participants are alternately assigned to be either the hunter or the victim and each tries to kill the other in front of a television camera in hopes of cashing in on product endorsement deals, the film is sort of like an Italian art deco version of The Running Man with a smaller budget and less professional wrestler cameos. The film opens with a go-go dancing Ursula Andress (post-Dr No, pre-Casino Royale) eighty-sixing her intended hunter with a pair of guns improbably hidden in the cups of her bra. And it's pretty much all downhill from there. Following this victory, she gets dispatched to Rome to hunt her next victim, played by none other than Marcello Mastrioanni (who, according to the rules of the game, would actually be her 5th victim, but never mind). The film mostly consists of Andress awkwardly trying to seduce Mastrioanni and convince him to go to the Roman temple that her television crew is waiting at. Ultimately the film ends up being more of a romantic comedy than action movie. Mastioanni's character, who has just gone through the six-year process of getting an annulment and divorcing his first wife, spends most of the film beating off the advances of both Andress and a woman who is supposed to be his mistress (but that he apparently hates). Predictably Mastrioanni and Andress eventually fall in love and the film digresses into some sort of weird allegory about the disintigration of marriage in modern society. The film is loaded with what I assume is poignant social commentary that would make sense to me if I lived in Italy in 1965, but probably just amounts to the pretentious, drug-addled musings of the director. The acting in the film runs the gamut from bad to awful, with the exception of Mastioanni, who essentially plays the same cool-middle-aged-guy-in-existential-crisis that he does in 8 1/2 (which, let's be honest, I'm really never gonna get tired of seeing). The organ-infused bossa nova soundtrack is definitely awesome, though the slick modern design of the film often crosses the line between cool and creepy, as exemplified by the robotic pet dog that is ostensibly Mastroianni's only true companion in spite of its being the most terrifying thing this side of a Herbie Hancock video.

This film certainly deserves it's place in the pantheon of schlocky B sci-fi movies alongside Barbarella and Plan 9. Though I will say I was a bit disappointed in the overall amount of sex and violence in the thing. For an exploitation flick I could have done with a few more over-the-top gun fights and obligatory T&A, but I do have to give the film credit for combining the two so well as it does with two simple guns and a bra.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Blogging the Oscars













8:31 - Budget musical number, surprisingly funny.

8:34 - Craigslist dancers. Amazing.

8:36 - Even the writers of the show seem confused as to why The Reader was nominated for anything

8:41 - Past supporting actress winners step forward to present award like at the end of Predator 2. . . Too obscure?

8:46 - I appreciate Goldie Hawn's rack as much as the next guy, but I think those things probably need to be retired.

8:53 - I'm hoping all of the unfunny jokes in the Tina Fey/Steve Martin screenwriting bit are Steve Martin's fault.

8:58 - Political grandstanding at Oscars for first time in history.

9:07 - Wall*E wins!

9:10 - For purposes of animated short category, Academy graciously pretends that Pixar was not eligible for this category.

9:11 - "Domo arigato Mr. Roboto." Thank you very much stereotypical Japanese animator.

9:23 - Grandiose period piece that nobody saw or liked wins for costume design

9:44 - Janusz Kaminski chills with a very baked James Franco and Seth Rogen. Legendary.

9:46 - Consumate method actor James Franco clearly still high from Pineapple Express bit botches pronunciation of film he gives award to. How adorable.

9:47 - I usually lose the Oscar pool on the the short awards (since lord know I never actually watch any of them), but luckily this year I did my homework and read that Spielzeugland is about the holocaust, so I totally nailed it. . . Like gangbusters.

9:53 - The clear winner of tonight's ceremony. Boobs.

10:08 - Heath Ledger wins award for playing badass homicidal terrorist. Not gonna lie, I'm getting a little misty here.

10:13 - Hollywood rescinds blackballing to allow Bill Maher a pulpit to present documentary awards and trash religion.

10:42 - To atone for last fifteen years of terrible film work Eddie Murphy gives Jerry Lewis humanitarian award.

10:57 - Wow, Peter Gabriel is looking surprisingly fit. . . and black.

11:12 - RIP: Paul Newman, Sydney Pollack, Michael Crichton, Isaac Hayes

11:20 - David Fincher looks pissed. Was he as disappointed with Banjamin Button as I was?

11:32 - Kate Winslet wins victory for illiterate Nazis everywhere.

11:35 - Alright Kate Winslet, I do love you, but let's wrap it up.

11:44 - Mickey Rourke loses. I call shenanigans.

11:55 - Slumdog sweeps. I wanna watch Trainspotting.

3rd Annual Oscar Pre-game Extravaganza

The past year was a surprisingly good one for film, but it's hard to tell looking at this year's slate of Oscar nominations. 2008 was a year of great Summer blockbusters and mediocre prestige pics, and, as expected, the Academy made the mistake of choosing the latter over the former. Here are my unfortunate predictions. . .

Best Picture

Cynical Prediction: Slumdog Millionaire
Idealistic Prediction: Wall*E or Dark Knight

It's no surprise that Slumdog is the heavy favorite in this category, but I can't for the life of me figure out how it's schmaltzy feel-good heroics puts it above the fray of any summer popcorn flick that were shut out in this category. I also can't figure out who cared enough about The Reader and Benjamin Button (other than the producers of said films) enough to get them nominations, while passing up the chance to give nominations (and maybe a win) to two films that were great cinematic achievements in their own right, and universally loved by both critics and the public. Good job Academy. Way to vote your way to irrelevance.

Best Director

Cynical Prediction: Danny Boyle for Slumdog Millionaire
Idealistic Prediction: Danny Boyle for Slumdog Millionaire

Though Slumdog is hardly my favorite Danny Boyle movie, I do love his films and will be quite happy to see him win.

Best Actor

Cynical Prediction: Sean Penn for Milk
Idealistic Prediction: Mickey Rourke for The Wrestler

It's hard to tell how much of Mickey Rourke's performance can really be qualified as "acting", but I don't know how you can't love him for it. I do think Frank Langella deserves an honorable mention here though and am a little pissed that he's not being giving serious consideration here for playing the most adorable Richard Nixon of all time.

Best Actress

Cynical Prediction: Kate Winslet The Reader
Idealistic Prediction: Kate Winslet The Reader

There's maybe a slight chance that Meryl Streep could win this award, and it wouldn't be undeserved, but I'm pretty sure Kate Winslet is going to have a nervous breakdown if she doesn't get it this time around. I'm also in favor of anything that cynically proves Ricky Gervais right.

Best Supporting Actor

Cynical Prediction: Heath Ledger for Dark Knight
Idealistic Prediction: Heath Ledger for Dark Knight

Probably Heath Ledger is going to win this just out of respect and guilt on the part of the voters, but I don't think you can make much of an argument for anyone else in this category anyway. I'm just hoping that after Javier Bardem's win last year, that this will start the tradition of this award going exclusively to psychotic serial murderer characters.

Best Supporting Actress

Cynical Prediction: Penelope Cruz for Vicky Christina Barcelona
Idealistic Prediction: Viola Davis for Doubt

As much as I secretly wish Marissa Tomei would win this award for playing a spot-on Jersey Girl stripper, she's already won an Oscar for doing pretty much the same thing. Also, for Viola Davis's ten minutes of screen-time in Doubt she pretty much shows up and completely owns Meryl Streep. If that doesn't deserve an Oscar, I don't know what does.

Best Original Screenplay

Cynical Prediction: Milk
Idealistic Prediction: Wall*E or Frozen River

This was actually sort of a tough one for me, and I still can't decide. I mean, unquestionably I think Pixar deserves some credit for having, above all else, some of the best written films of all time. But Frozen River was probably one of the most intense thrillers I've seen in a long time. Also, since this is the only award where the Academy sees fit to recognize Sundance-type independent films, it would be nice to see a film with genuine indie cred win.

Best Adapted Screenplay

Cynical Prediction: Slumdog Millionaire
Idealistic Prediction: Frost/Nixon

There was a lot that was great about Slumdog Millionaire, but I don't think the screenplay's modern rehash of a Dickensian romance novel really deserves an award. Compare that to the political-docudrama-as-underdog-sports-movie scipt of Frost/Nixon. No contest.

Best Cinematography

Cynical Prediction: Slumdog Millionaire
Idealistic Prediction: Slumdog Millionaire

The photography in Danny Boyle movies is always amazing. This is no exception. Though I think it would have shown some balls on the part of the Academy to nominate Wall*E for this category.

Best Editing

Cynical Prediction:
Slumdog Millionaire
Idealistic Prediction: Slumdog Millionaire

This movie is pretty much an editor's wet dream. I can't imagine it not winning.

Best Art Direction


Cynical Prediction: The Curious Case of Benjamin Bratt
Idealistic Prediction: The Dark Knight

Probably if David Fincher gave two shits about the screenplay instead of spending all his time on the VFX and art direction, this might have been a decent film. So I'm sure that if this film gets any awards, it'll be here.

Best Costume Design

Cynical Prediction: The Curious Case of Benjamin Bratt
Idealistic Prediction:
Milk

As usual, this award comes down to which period drama has the gayest, most ornate outfits. Ironically I thought Milk was by far least gay and most tastefully understated film in this category. Plus I sort of wish I actually owned some of James Franco's outfits from this movie.

Best Original Score

Cynical Prediction: Slumdog Millionaire
Idealistic Prediction: Milk


As much as I enjoy the Bollywood musical stylings of A.R. Rahman, I just want Danny Elfman to win an award, and this is probably his best shot.

Best Song


Cynical Prediction: songs from Slumdog Millionaire
Idealistic Prediction: "Down to Earth" from Wall*E

Really Springsteen's song from The Wrestler should be the clear winner in this category, but the Academy seemed to think it better to only have three nominations than to even nominate it. So with that said, I'd just like Wall*E to win in one of the categories that it actually wasn't snubbed.

Best Makeup

Cynical Prediction:
The Curious Case of Benjamin Bratt
Idealistic Prediction: Dark Knight

Is it just me or was the aging makeup in Benjamin Button not that convincing. Whereas both the Two-Face and Joker makeup in Dark Knight is both powerfully disturbing and 100 percent convincing.

Best Sound

Cynical Prediction: Dark Knight
Idealistic Prediction:
Wall*E

The sound awards are always the biggest crapshoot, and seemingly completely arbitrary unless you're a sound designer. But since the first 45 minutes of
Wall*E has pretty much no dialogue and I love it anyway, I'm sort of partial.

Best Sound Editing


Cynical Prediction: Dark Knight
Idealistic Prediction:
Wall*E

See above.


Best Animated Film

Cynical Prediction: Wall*E
Idealistic Prediction:
Wall*E

Though I was pleasantly surprised with Kung Fu Panda, it's still not much of a contest.

Best Foreign Language Film

Cynical Prediction: Waltz With Bashir
Idealistic Prediction:
Waltz With Bashir

Not gonna lie. I still haven't seen any of these. But pretty much anybody I've met that's seen
Waltz With Bashir has said it's pretty amazing.

Best Documentary

Cynical Prediction: Man On Wire
Idealistic Prediction:
Man On Wire

I've only seen two of these, but they were both awesome. And as much as I enjoy Werner Herzog's ridiculous voiceover,
Man On Wire is definitely the better film.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Grammys = meh

As usual, I skipped last night's live broadcast of the Grammys and instead opted for a variety of highlights and recaps. There were a few things that I probably would have liked to have seen live, like M.I.A. performing (while 9 months pregnant) a song about violently mugging western tourists to a crowd of mostly middle-aged liberal intellectuals, or like Radiohead replacing their whole rhythm section with the USC marching band, which, judging from the smirk on Thom Yorke's face served no purpose other than to prove in spectacular fashion how much better they are than all of the artists that have beaten them over the years in the major categories (and no, "Best Alternative Album" does not qualify as a major category any more than "Best Regional Mexican Album" does).





Much like last year's surprise victory from Herbie Hancock, this year's major awards sweep came from left field for anybody who isn't either a huge fan of American roots music played by British people or a Barnes & Noble member who still wears earrings despite being over 40 and a dude (Harrison Ford, I'm looking in your direction). In the interest of objectivity I listened to a few songs from Robert Plant/Allison Krauss album that took home "Album of the Year", including the song that won "Record of the Year", and found them to all be extremely tasteful (in a boring, underwhelming sort of way) but mostly just very unremarkable. At the very least the album was released on a proper independent label (which is about as far outside the box as the Recording Academy is willing to go). I thought Adele winning best new artist the year after Amy Winehouse to be a bit redundant, but could hardly come up with a compelling argument for any of the other nominees in the category. The only awards that seemed even halfway legit were the ones in the fringe categories. Despite my utter indifference to his work, Lil Wayne probably deserved to sweep the hip-hop categories for having the remarkable ability to actually move records (though I assume the voting in these categories is based entirely on the voting members going to their kids' ipods and voting for whatever shows up in their 'recently played' list). And Radiohead's win in the "Alternative Album" category was appreciated in spite of the fact that the album was actually released two years ago (for those of us with a computers and an internet connection anyway).

Of course, my gut reaction is outrage and disgust over the lack of prescience reflected by these awards, but I'm going to declare that the Grammys have now reached a new level of irrelevence somewhere between the daytime Emmys and the Spike TV Video Game Awards. They give out awards that reflect neither the tastes of critics nor the music-buying public. They are now so pointless that they barely register as a side-note to news of Chris Brown's arrest, and by no means the other way around.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Pretentious Music 2008

As usual, I've procrastinated writing this post for so long that it really doesn't matter at this point, but after taking the first month of 2009 to digest the musical offerings of the previous year and pretending like I was actually paying attention to current trends, I've decided to begrudgingly put together my list of my favorite songs and albums of 2008.

Now I say begrudgingly because I really didn't feel like there was much in the way of current music that qualified as "relevant" or "listenable", which I realize is the thing people say when they become too busy or old to give a shit what the folks at Pitchfork are fawning over this week, but I really think that this year it's just a statement of fact. And maybe it's because reading the business section of any newspaper in the last year was pretty much like watching the last 15 minutes of The Empire Strikes Back every day, or maybe it's because 2008 was the fist year in recent memory that American democracy (ironically) didn't seem like a miserable failure, but it's become increasingly difficult to argue for the importance of my own legally questionable mp3 collection. Nevertheless, here goes. . .


ALBUMS:

Drive-By Truckers - Brighter Than Creation's Dark

While most bands these days seem to struggle to put out two singles and half an hour of filler every three years, these guys have been filling up the full 80 minutes of their albums with quality material at least every two years for the past decade - and this album is my favorite so far. They've toned down the redneckiness of their sound slightly, but kept the gritty slice-of-life stories of people on the margins of the American South. Like their previous albums, the depressing nature of their subject matter would make their music pretty much unlistenable if their their hooks weren't so good and their lyrics weren't so damn clever.



King Khan and the Shrines - The Supreme Genius of. . .

This is a band that sounds too cool as a concept (a pudgy Canadian-born South Asian man that dresses in loin-cloths and belts out pitch-perfect sixies garage rock) to actually work. But it does. Brilliantly. And even though this album is technically more of a compilation than a real album, considering how criminally difficult it is to actually get a hold of any of their real albums, I'm gonna have to count it.



Titus Andronicus - The Airing of Grievances

Like the indie-rock equivilent of Jerry Stiller screaming "serenity now!", this album is one hell of a cathartic Seinfeld reference (barely edging out Wale's Mixtape About Nothing as the best musical Seinfeld reference of the year). And dispite the absurdly pretentious band name, the music is remarkably earnest, and includes enough shoe-gazey fuzz to warm my indie rock snob heart.




Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend

It's a little hard to believe that this album actually came out last year, considering the critical backlash to Vampire Weekend had begun before this album had even hit shelves last January, But hype and counter-hype aside, this still stands as one of the funnest and catchiest albums that I've heard in a while, and unlike most of the otherwise good music I listened to this year, I didn't forget about it two seconds after the songs ended.




David Byrne & Brian Eno - Everything That Happens Will Happen Today

Maybe it's because these guys were too geeky to ever really be cool in the first place or because David Byrne started writing songs about nostalgia and aging when he was in his twenties, but these are two of only a handful of musicians that can still put out records into their fifties (or sixties in the case of Eno) and not seem like total wash-ups.



SONGS:

Drive-By Truckers - Self Destructive Zones

My favorite DBT songs are the ones where they play the role of some kind of grizzled Southern history prof and give you a witty folk history of music or politics or both, and this song is no exception. The hook kicks ass and it's about as good of a history of the last twenty years of rock music as you're ever going to hear. Plus, I'm a big fan of the term "goings on".



Goldfrapp - A&E

It's probably a testament to Alison Goldfrapp's ability as a producer that she can write a song that basically sounds like something out of an episode of Dawson's Creek that snobbish music bloggers can still fawn over.



Air France - Collapsing At Your Doorstep

I predict that in two years Kanye West will run out of Japanese and French culture to rip off, and he'll have to start turning to Swedes for fodder, and he will sample this song, and it will be awesome.



Lykke Li - Breaking It Up

Even though Lykke Li seems like the kind of obnoxious hipster girl I'd probably want to smack the stupid skinny headband off of if I met her in real life, she really does have a remarkable voice. Did I mention I'm a sucker for minimalist Swedish pop music. What can I say?



The Walkmen - In the New Year

In contrast to the themes of that Saturn commercial that gave the Walkmen their first big break, it would seem that the band has actually grown up a bit since their first album, making records that seem more appropriate for a dinner party at a Park Slope brownstone rather than my pot smoke-filled dorm room at NYU. Thankfully Walter Martin still has the warbling vocal style of a raging alcoholic, but it seems that he's at least switched from 40s of high life to pinot noir.