So I was persuaded to see this despite my instinctive reaction - ie, it's a movie about facebook, so how can it possibly be any good? - because of the Sorkin/Fincher connection, and indeed it sounds like it was written by Sorkin and looks like it was directed by Fincher. Anyway, it's a pretty good film - involving enough while it lasts, and with a story to tell - but not one that's likely to stay with me.
(w/ Steph and Sunny)
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid
This is a hell of an album - majestic, finely-wrought, lucid, emotive. At various times they sound like any number of their brit contemporaries, but there's something kind of stately, ornate maybe, about their songs and production which makes them distinctive; it's also noteworthy that every song on The Seldom Seen Kid is strong, built around clear melodies which often go in unexpected directions and decorated with details that become integral to the whole. Best, or at least current favourite, songs: "The Bones of You", "Mirrorball", "Grounds for Divorce".
Four Tet - There Is Love In You
I've never been able to explain to my own satisfaction why I like Four Tet, but the point is that I do. There Is Love In You doesn't break the pattern - I can listen to it over and over, and it catches my attention each time through, but I don't know why. There's just something about it - something that draws me.
Eels - Hombre Lobo
Alternates between anger and depression (not that the two are particularly incompatible, in principle or on this record), muscular, electric guitar-driven rockers sitting alongside pretty Eels-style laments. Not too bad, but doesn't leave much of an impression.
Burial - Untrue
Apparently this is a bit of a classic of its kind (at least according to Nenad, who recommended it a while back), but it hasn't really taken with me. Its ghostly, sample-woven electronic mood and sound remind me of the abstract hip-hop of DJ Krush, and like that other, I don't find much to grasp hold of on Untrue - its pleasures are not for me.
Yann Tiersen - Les Retrouvailles
Cinematically dramatic song-pieces, given focus by Tiersen's facility with dynamic and unusual melodies and guest vocals weaving through (most notably a couple from the endlessly fascinating Liz Fraser). Actually something of a grower - one of those that you need to get your ear in for. Liking it.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
"Tomorrow, in a year" (Hotel Pro Forma)
Picked this out as the show I most wanted to see at this year's MIAF when the program came out, cause it looked like it might be a real (artistic) experience - advertised as a contemporary opera, organised around Darwin and Origin of Species, music by the Knife, touting comparisons to "Einstein on the Beach" (seeing a good live performance of which remains one of my mostly fondly cherished cultural hopes).
For all that, it looked like inertia was going to get the better of me until I found myself at a loose end on the last night of its (brief) run - last Saturday - and bought a ticket a few hours beforehand ... and I'm glad I went, although my feelings about the show were mixed. I think a lot of that mixedness flows from the relationship between the strength of the show's high concept and the relatively literal, programmatic feel of the execution - that is, the idea of an 'opera' built around the notion of evolution, and both musically and sets-wise structured to reflect humankind's own evolution, both in the strict and in broader senses, where the form is, to a large extent, the content, rather than being structured around any kind of conventional narrative, is striking and impressive, but the actual show/performance doesn't get very far beyond that idea, instead playing it out in fairly predictable, pedestrian ways (if those are fair ways of describing a work that is, in a way, inherently interesting and unusual).
One way of looking at this is to suggest that the component parts often seemed pedestrian because, for all of the graspability of that basic idea, the piece's commitment to rigorously embodying that idea (and working through its implications for contemporary 'opera') requires a degree of repetition, build-up, etc - that certainly goes for the way that the Knife's score 'evolves' over the show's 90 or so minutes from relatively minimal, soundscape stuff to out and out triumphant electro-popness. But I'm not sure that this would excuse the unexciting nature of the actual songs, the uninteresting choreography (case in point: a lot of the dancers' movement could, for example, without too much of a stretch evoke the delicate fluctuations and waverings of the simple forms of life as viewed under a microscope with which we're all familiar - but that in itself doesn't make them interesting) and the lack of a really coherent stage language (lots of imagery, including repeating motifs and stage elements, which themselves develop or, again, 'evolve' in various ways - but, to me, nothing really underpinning it), unless it really demands an entirely different way of looking at the work (in which case it's incumbent on the work itself to do more to open up such a way).
Overall, "Tomorrow, in a year" was well worth it - the fundamental interestingness (audacity is putting it too high, but it's something like that) of what it was, coupled with the elements of genuine spectacle to it and the artistic intelligence that it embodies, as well as the thought that it provoked, saw to that. But it didn't feel totally satisfying or immersive - something just wasn't quite there.
For all that, it looked like inertia was going to get the better of me until I found myself at a loose end on the last night of its (brief) run - last Saturday - and bought a ticket a few hours beforehand ... and I'm glad I went, although my feelings about the show were mixed. I think a lot of that mixedness flows from the relationship between the strength of the show's high concept and the relatively literal, programmatic feel of the execution - that is, the idea of an 'opera' built around the notion of evolution, and both musically and sets-wise structured to reflect humankind's own evolution, both in the strict and in broader senses, where the form is, to a large extent, the content, rather than being structured around any kind of conventional narrative, is striking and impressive, but the actual show/performance doesn't get very far beyond that idea, instead playing it out in fairly predictable, pedestrian ways (if those are fair ways of describing a work that is, in a way, inherently interesting and unusual).
One way of looking at this is to suggest that the component parts often seemed pedestrian because, for all of the graspability of that basic idea, the piece's commitment to rigorously embodying that idea (and working through its implications for contemporary 'opera') requires a degree of repetition, build-up, etc - that certainly goes for the way that the Knife's score 'evolves' over the show's 90 or so minutes from relatively minimal, soundscape stuff to out and out triumphant electro-popness. But I'm not sure that this would excuse the unexciting nature of the actual songs, the uninteresting choreography (case in point: a lot of the dancers' movement could, for example, without too much of a stretch evoke the delicate fluctuations and waverings of the simple forms of life as viewed under a microscope with which we're all familiar - but that in itself doesn't make them interesting) and the lack of a really coherent stage language (lots of imagery, including repeating motifs and stage elements, which themselves develop or, again, 'evolve' in various ways - but, to me, nothing really underpinning it), unless it really demands an entirely different way of looking at the work (in which case it's incumbent on the work itself to do more to open up such a way).
Overall, "Tomorrow, in a year" was well worth it - the fundamental interestingness (audacity is putting it too high, but it's something like that) of what it was, coupled with the elements of genuine spectacle to it and the artistic intelligence that it embodies, as well as the thought that it provoked, saw to that. But it didn't feel totally satisfying or immersive - something just wasn't quite there.
Shawn Colvin - Polaroids: A Greatest Hits Collection
I've always thought fondly (if vaguely) of Shawn Colvin thanks to "Sunny Came Home" having chimed with me when it was all over the radio in high school (in retrospect, it was an early forerunner of the stuff that I'd get so heavily into some eight or nine years later); this collection shows her to be a fine songwriter with a nice singing voice into the bargain - nice.
Steve Earle - The Collection
Pleasantly crunchy collection of Earle's countryish roots-rockers from the first (MCA) part of his career, including the Copperhead Road period.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Lost season 6
It's striking that, as Lost becomes more overtly supranatural, particularly over the course of this sixth (and final) season, it also comes to seem increasingly concrete and literal - I suppose it's that the answers that the show finally provides are, indeed, answers, but answers arising from causes and explanations that are inherently anti-realistic (or, at least, beyond the bounds of the consensus view of reality).
I have mixed feelings about the wrap-up - on the one hand, I'm glad that there is, indeed, an explanation of sorts, and I think that the way the show resolves, including the dual narrative running through this season, is faithful to the overall structure, narrative logic and thematic preoccupations set up in seasons 1 through 5, but on the other hand I could wish that things were less clear-cut, more puzzling, more open-ended (though had that last wish been granted, no doubt it would have been even more unsatisfying).
All up, I'm glad I've gone on the journey offered by Lost. For me, ultimately, it's about the story and the mystery - the metaphysics, such as they are, are a bonus. But all told, it is something out of the ordinary - I'll miss it.
(1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
I have mixed feelings about the wrap-up - on the one hand, I'm glad that there is, indeed, an explanation of sorts, and I think that the way the show resolves, including the dual narrative running through this season, is faithful to the overall structure, narrative logic and thematic preoccupations set up in seasons 1 through 5, but on the other hand I could wish that things were less clear-cut, more puzzling, more open-ended (though had that last wish been granted, no doubt it would have been even more unsatisfying).
All up, I'm glad I've gone on the journey offered by Lost. For me, ultimately, it's about the story and the mystery - the metaphysics, such as they are, are a bonus. But all told, it is something out of the ordinary - I'll miss it.
(1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Closer
I liked Closer well enough when I first saw it, but it's since become something close to a touchstone for me, or at the very least a frequent point of reference, in art (egs 1, 2, 3) and in life, as its virtues (most notably the brutal, cutting truth of it - a truth that is no less true for being far from universal) have grown in my mind and, I guess, it has, in some respects, become more real for me.
Sometimes rewatching a film that has undergone this kind of personal reassessment since its first (or more recent) watching leads to disappointment, but if anything Closer was even better than I'd come to remember. I still can't quite put my finger on why I like the film so much, but obviously something about it resonates.
Sometimes rewatching a film that has undergone this kind of personal reassessment since its first (or more recent) watching leads to disappointment, but if anything Closer was even better than I'd come to remember. I still can't quite put my finger on why I like the film so much, but obviously something about it resonates.
Dark City
Twelve years on, Dark City is still impressive - in its imagery in particular, but also in its ideas and how it executes them. The sci-fi/noir setting is wholly convincing, there are spectacular visuals at every turn, and the few flashes of colour (the goldfish at the start and the Shell Beach interludes) are carefully chosen for thematic and emotional impact; also, it reminded me how stunningly beautiful Jennifer Connelly was back in the day (maybe still, for all I know).
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Robert Plant - Band of Joy
Another very solid outing by Plant, somewhat in the same vein as his fantastic collaboration with Alison Krauss of a couple years back, Raising Sand. On Band of Joy, he has a dream pair of collaborators in Buddy Miller on guitar (and production) and the glorious Patty Griffin singing backup, and a great roster of songs to do over (nearly all covers, and mostly obscure ones), and it all works very nicely.
The album starts brightly, with the folksy country-rock of "Angel Dance" (Los Lobos) followed by a Gram and Emmylou-esque Richard Thompson number, "House of Cards" (one of my favourites), the only original Plant-Miller composition on the record (a loose, melodic bluegrass number, "Central Two O Nine") and then a wonderfully ethereal Low cover ("Silver Rider"), which, all murmured lyrics and exhalations and spiralling, layered guitars, sounds like nothing so much as Death in Vegas covering Galaxie 500. The rest of it's as diverse as that opening four-song run, though not as consistently strong, covering country ballads ("The Only Sound That Matters"), psychedelic-edged groovers ("Monkey"), bright good-times tunes ("Harm's Swift Way" - oddly reminiscent of the Arcade Fire's "City With No Children In It") and experimental rave-ups ("Even This Shall Pass Away"). It's all very tasteful, but in a good way - a definite graceful ageing, and a real success.
The album starts brightly, with the folksy country-rock of "Angel Dance" (Los Lobos) followed by a Gram and Emmylou-esque Richard Thompson number, "House of Cards" (one of my favourites), the only original Plant-Miller composition on the record (a loose, melodic bluegrass number, "Central Two O Nine") and then a wonderfully ethereal Low cover ("Silver Rider"), which, all murmured lyrics and exhalations and spiralling, layered guitars, sounds like nothing so much as Death in Vegas covering Galaxie 500. The rest of it's as diverse as that opening four-song run, though not as consistently strong, covering country ballads ("The Only Sound That Matters"), psychedelic-edged groovers ("Monkey"), bright good-times tunes ("Harm's Swift Way" - oddly reminiscent of the Arcade Fire's "City With No Children In It") and experimental rave-ups ("Even This Shall Pass Away"). It's all very tasteful, but in a good way - a definite graceful ageing, and a real success.
"Soak + The Hollow Air"
A pair of contemporary Australian pieces, both drawing on a range of influences / musical streams - indeed, it was the panoply of such influences for "Soak", in particular (Eno, Part, Gorecki, ambient, filmic, jazz) which intrigued me. I could see why they were programmed together; I liked "Soak", which genuinely did blend all of the claimed influences, but found "The Hollow Air" (completely with shakuhachi) a bit too abstract to really grasp.
(w/ Ash and Penny @ Melb Recital Centre)
(w/ Ash and Penny @ Melb Recital Centre)
China Miéville - Kraken
Not as thrillingly outré and alien as his New Crobuzon books - indeed, deliberately located in a parallel-universe London, albeit one that is thoroughly warped and infiltrated by the weird - but still tremendously compulsive, immersive reading.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
"Red Hot Shorts" session 12
A fun Friday night compilation of NYC-themed shorts and music videos at ACMI, focusing more on the city's gritty side than on the glamour, fashion, romance &c that it often brings to mind; music-wise, iconic figures like Patti Smith and Lou Reed were represented, as well as contemporary figures like Interpol, LCD Soundsystem and Santogold.
(w/ Jade)
(w/ Jade)
Band of Horses - Infinite Arms
... in which Band of Horses get way too mellow and dreamy for their own good. There aren't any really exciting moments on Infinite Arms - the album's not unpleasant at all, but it's all a bit boring.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The Like - Release Me
Pitching their tent about halfway between the tougher, more garage-oriented rock of Fabienne Delsol and the Bristols and the purer girl group pop kicks of the Pipettes, the Like have come up with an enjoyable take on the 60s revivalist thing kicking around at the moment. For me, only three or four of the individual songs really stand out, but the overall sound is great and there are hooks a plenty so it hardly matters.
The Men Who Stare At Goats
Funny in moments but very minor. The only really good thing about it is George Clooney.
Gentlemen Broncos
A film by the director of Napoleon Dynamite - which is relevant, because before I knew that, my main response to Gentlemen Broncos was that it felt like a lesser version of that other. The silliness and scattershot-ness is deliberate, but that doesn't redeem it.
Jeffrey Toobin - The Nine: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court
I read some good review of this book when it came out, and for some reason recently developed a strong desire to read it. Anyway, it's a good read, Toobin's journalistic background coming through in the way he brings to life the characters and issues that have shaped the recentish history of the US Supreme Court. The appeal of the book is really twofold - first, the way it gives some insight into the behind the scenes workings of the institution and the way its members are appointed, and second, the way it dramatises some of the key social debates of modern US society through the seminal decisions that shaped the way they continue to play out (abortion, capital punishment, affirmative action, military detention, civil rights generally) and provides a window into broader social/legal trends and developments re conservatism/liberalism.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)