We needed an electric mixer. We had a whisk, an electric drill, and duct tape.

that’s jesse with the mixer and jonabad holding the bowl.

You may want to sit down for this.

Some of you may know that I enjoy aliens. Aliens and teenage angst. (And if the aliens are teenagers, even better! Get me some popcorn!) Behind my love for the paranormal, however, lies a deep appreciation of all fantasy, probably stemming from my elementary school days as an avid reader of Madeleine L’Engle, William Sleator, Frank Baum, and C.S. Lewis. What better way to get away from boring math classes than to hide a Narnia book under one’s desk? I think that series is indelibly burned into my brain.

So, I was very excited to see the movie adaptation of “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe” on Monday night with Nina. After the whole LOTR saga, audiences expect more from fantasy films. (I don’t think something as atrocious as 2000’s “Dungeons and Dragons” will ever be allowed to happen ever again. Check out the imdb user comments on that one: “Just shoot me,” says one knowledgeable user.) Narnia definitely was a post-Peter Jackson film, with gorgeous scenery (like LOTR, Narnia was filmed in New Zealand), incredibly well-done computer animation, a stirring score (I particularly enjoyed the songs used in the soundtrack, not just the straight classical background stuff), and very good acting, especially from the children. I will say, however, that the battle scenes were VERY reminiscent of LOTR, and I wonder if perhaps Andrew Adamson, the director, could have made an effort to be less derivative.

Andrew Adamson, by the way, has only directed a few other films: Shrek, Shrek 2, and “Shrek in the Swamp Karaoke Dance Party”. (I’m not making this up!) His background is mostly in visual effects, which is probably why the effects in Narnia were so stunning.

The story, as you probably know, follows the four Pevensie siblings (Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy) from their boring days at an old professor’s country home to their adventures in Narnia, a world to which they discover an entrance at the back of an old wardrobe. As a child, I had always had a specific vision of the moment when Lucy enters the wardrobe and discovers that it keeps going… and going… until it opens up into a snowy wood.* As the camera panned through rows upon row of fur coats I had the same tingle of anticipation as I did when reading the book. When Lucy, after dazedly wandering through the forest, reaches a clearing lit by a lamppost I thought excitedly, “The lamppost! I remember this!” And so it went through the entire movie, as if I were visiting my hometown after years of absence – “I remember this!! And this! And this!” I got swept up in the movie, taken away by this world I recalled from childhood. And, I felt the same way towards Susan as I did when reading the story: what an incredibly annoying character! But that’s ok. I think I once thought Lucy was annoying too, but I actually really enjoyed her portrayal on screen by Georgie Henley. All four children interacted beautifully together – they were naturally argumentative yet loving, and didn’t seem stilted or forced (the only one who might be guilty of that is Susan). Props to Adamson, again.

I’ll stop kissing Adamson’s butt soon, I promise, but one more thing:
I’m so glad he didn’t shy away from showing the dark parts of the story – death, betrayal, abandonment, fear. It’s a heavy movie, one that I would be nervous taking unprepared small children to, but it has so much more depth than something like “Spy Kids”. Children are perhaps the most pure philosophers there are, and Adamson doesn’t underestimate his young audience.

Oddly enough, though, Mr. Tumnus, played by James McAvoy, seemed like a child molester. It was kind of creepy, really. Even at the end of the movie, when I believe Mr. Tumnus was supposed to be acting somewhat brotherly towards Lucy, I thought he was leering and gross. Was that intentional on the part of the director? Yuck!

Tilda Swinton was decent as the White Witch, but I believe she could have been icier and even more manipulative. I don’t feel that she was mesmerizing enough to have enchanted Edmund so completely, even with her fawning and the magical Turkish Delight. (And here I’d like to mention: AMC Theaters do not serve Junior Mints! Nina and I had to suffer through a bag of mini peppermint patties! And like Edmund with his Turkish Delight, I could not stop eating the trash, and got sick. York Bites = spawn of the devil. Do not buy them or eat them ever. If you really want to get them, save some money and eat a cup of sugar instead. Same freakin’ effect.) The White Witch had a wicked awesome fight scene, though. Fierce. Tougher and hotter than Eowyn (and here I must go off on another tangent: what was up with Miranda Otto? Eowyn was my FAVORITE character in the LOTR books, and she was SO WIMPY in the movies!).

Quick nerd note: the computer graphics imaging astounded me. This was the first movie I’ve seen where it really looked like the animals were speaking. Aslan, voiced by Liam Neeson, was impressive, but I was most taken aback by the little talking beavers. Cuteness! Cuteness and talented programmers! (I wonder if the programmers, while at MIT or some other such technical school, had any idea they’d be animating talking beavers for a living….)

Anyway, what I found most striking about this movie was that I felt that it still could have all been a fantasy in the kids’ heads. I wondered if it was the director’s plan to make the viewer think, “Oh well, look what these kids have been through; of course they needed some escapism. They needed a father figure, they needed to feel that they were winning a war, they had all that time on their hands…” But now I’m catching myself…. have I, like Susan does in the later books, lost my faith? Have I become that which is most feared: a grown-up?

Well, perhaps, but at least I’m a grown-up who plans on seeing what the heck “Shrek in the Swamp Karaoke Dance Party” is all about.

* So check THIS out. In the back of MY closet, there’s a door to my backyard. I bet if I got really drunk and put some fur coats all over the place I could convince myself that my snowy backyard is Narnia, and maybe even that Pepper, the dog from next door, is a Secret Police Agent. Yeah…..maybe….not.

Shopgirl (Spoilers)

On Tuesday, I realized I hadn’t been to a movie in ages. My friend Hadas hadn’t, either, so we decided to see Shopgirl at Kendall on Wednesday after toning our biceps at the gym. I didn’t know too much about the movie, save that it starred Steve Martin and Claire Danes. I assumed it would be a riotous romantic comedy, with hilarious antics from Steve and subtle demurring from Claire; upon seeing the poster with Jason Schwartzman (of Rushmore and I Heart Huckabees fame) I thought – this will be a riot!! I’ll lose myself in two hours of pure entertainment in a cushy, expensive theater!

Well, that’s what I get for not reading reviews before I go to movies. Indeed, Jason Schwartzman was hifreakinlarious – he’s a comedic genius! And the portions of the movie in which he appeared were quirky, cute, and made me laugh out loud. That was truly a testimony to Steve Martin’s writing – he adapted his own novella (also called “Shopgirl”) into the screenplay. However, the characters which Martin and Danes portrayed were simply… odd. Martin plays Ray Porter, a divorced man in his fifties who notices Mirabelle, a Sak’s Fifth Avenue employee in her twenties, at her counter. He woos her, only to reveal that he’s not that interested in a serious relationship (i.e. he’ll keep sleeping with her, but with no strings attached. Jerk.). However, he seems to be almost drugged by the idea of romance, and by the idea of Mirabelle and her young, quiet, dull perfection. Mirabelle, on the other hand, is entranced by Ray and his (seemingly endless) money, enough so that she ignores his obvious inability to commit, and hopes and dreams that he’ll fall in love with her. (Jason Schwatzman’s character, Jeremy, is more peripheral, but is a lovely portrayal of a young man discovering how to relate to a woman, and how to move from his fantastical perception of her (and of himself), into a truly equal and open relationship.)

Having been romanced by men nearly twice my age, I can attest to the veracity of Steve Martin’s Ray Porter, and I definitely fell victim once again to the allure of a seemingly put together older man: I thought that Ray was the real deal, and couldn’t believe it when it was revealed that he was nothing but a cad. I suppose that Martin gave a convincing performance; however, I felt that the screenplay allowed Martin to wallow in his hallucinogenic idea of romance (picture him sipping wine in a private jet plane, large window revealing the moon and shimmering clouds, as he reminisces about Mirabelle’s perfect body in slow motion).

Mirabelle, surprisingly (or maybe not so, considering the self-centered focus of Martin’s screenplay) was boring, superficial, and nothing but a woman idealized by others – and created by others, as evidenced by her desire to be loved by Ray. She was unable to extract herself from the relationship at the first sign of Ray’s lameness, simply because she did not have enough sense of self to be on her own, undefined by men. And it *is* complicated — Ray acted like he was in love with her in many instances. But there was a layer of his mind which couldn’t commit, and Mirabelle didn’t call him on it until it became PAINFULLY obvious. Man. That Ray Porter – what a jerk.

The score to the film, by the way, was terrible. It was basically the same four descending notes, over and over again, played on marimba or strings, always in accompaniment to scenes of Claire Danes undressing in slow motion.

I’m actually not sure whether or not I’d recommend this movie. It was a long two hours. I did smile quite a bit, and again, Jason Schwartzman’s character and all the events on his road trip are fantastically funny.
Claire Danes for an Oscar? No way. Maybe Steve Martin. My verdict? DVD rental.

Okay. First of all, I apologize to all the nations for putting another dime in Tom Cruise’s crazy, crazy pocket. But it was a hot night, and late, and I craved the dramatic digital sound of a summer blockbuster.

Blockbuster it was, and dudes! I gotta say: it was good! It was good enough that I got home, nervously locked my doors and windows, and lay awake planning a “survival backpack” which would contain all I would ever need if aliens attacked the earth, intent upon annihilating all of mankind. (For those of you who are curious, said backpack would be packed with protein bars, water, and bandaids. I couldn’t think of anything else.) When I woke up in the morning, the survival backpack seemed stupid, but the fact that the movie freaked me out remained.

I really don’t want to give anything away — I was surprised many times during the film, and I want you, dear reader, to be taken aback as well. I will say that even though Tom Cruise is a lunatic, he’s a good actor. And even though Dakota Fanning is probably a spoiled brat, she’s a good little actress. And Tim Robbins? As always, super good.

The story was right up my alley — freaky, involves aliens, some teenage angst — I just wouldn’t want it to ever greet me in reality. The ending, by the way and IMHO, needed some work, as it was loophole-esque. But again, I don’t want to get into it too much! Email me once you’ve seen it with your opinion on the ending — did Spielberg wimp out?

SAHARA

Sahara. It was one of those movies that I knew existed only because of the heavily paparazzi’d romance between its costars (in this case, Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz). It did not have a very long theater run, and I almost considered not watching it on my plane ride from Reagan to Salt Lake City. However, it was free, and I figured it would help time pass. Plus, Mr. McConaughey and Ms. Cruz ain’t so bad to look at.

Note to Alicia: short theater runs generally mean that the movie sucked.
I’ve decided for this review to make a little list. Hopefully, I will save you from any movie that even remotely resembles “Sahara.”

1. Curse you, Dan Brown, and your terrible writing and bad adventure genre. You and your ridiculous “novels” have spawned American interest in tremendous wastes of time and money, such as “National Treasure” and this movie, “Sahara”, wherein MacGyver-like “normal guys” search out buried treasure and conspiracy secrets and END UP SAVING THE WORLD from bad guys, the Illuminati, and/or disease! And by god, getting the girl!
Note to America: Guys!! Dan Brown can’t write!! Try Steinbeck!!

2. Penelope Cruz, you are stunningly beautiful. In fact, I am very jealous of you, because you’re not only gorgeous, you have a cute accent, and guys go for that accent thing. And, you’re quite a good actress – in “Abre Los Ojos” you were incredible. However, does moving to Hollywood mean that you have to perform in schlock? I mean, seriously, this dialogue was pitiful. Who is your agent? My advice is: get a new one. And stop dating your co-stars. (Do you regret the Tom Cruise thing? I bet you do.)

3. Why doesn’t the funny sidekick ever get the girl? Ever since “Pretty in Pink”, when it was so obvious that Ducky should have gotten the girl, not Mr. I-Have-Money-But-No-Personality, I have been saddened by the lack of geek romance in films. I guess that’s why the 1988 TV movie “Dance ‘Til Dawn” is one of my personal favorites: the beautiful popular girl falls for the nerd after an eventful prom night. Ahhh. Teen angst and romance. I am sucked in so easily.

In any case, in Sahara, Steve Zahn plays a very funny and cute sidekick who dismantles a bomb at The Crucial Moment and lets Mr. McC save the lovely Penelope. He gets no reward, yet MM gets to frolic with PC on the shores of Monterrey. What’s up, Hollywood? Let’s give these sidekicks hot girlfriends. And no, purple multi-tentacled aliens (a la Galaxy Quest) do not count.

4. Dear movie directors of America,
If you stretch the limits of reality more than once — as in having main characters defy rebel gunfire in the middle of the Sahara Desert over and over again without any visible means of obtaining drinking water, and then having them climb onto a moving train from the backs of camels that they just learned how to ride (and by the way, that thing about the Civil War-era iron clad ship being depicted in a cave drawing was totally ludicrous) — I will lose interest in your movie and get up and go to the bathroom.
Sincerely,
Alicia

Today I’d like to review and compare two documentaries that I’ve recently seen, “Born Into Brothels” and “Gunner Palace”, hereby referred to as BIB and GP.

BIB caught my attention even before the Oscars. I saw the preview before “Hotel Rwanda” and thought it looked fascinating: woman goes to Calcutta, teaches children of the lowest caste to take artistic photos. Will the children rise up and out of their poverty? If only for the exploration of how art brings beauty into life, it looked worthwhile.

So Nancy, Hadas, and I checked it out after a fine meal at Pho Lemon (spicy curry tofu, yum). I left the theater with more complaints that praise, however. BIB did show that art lifts us up. But the documentary was not art itself: shaky camera work made it hard to view, and incomplete background information made for confusion during the first half of the show. Where exactly was this taking place? How long had the filmmaker been there? And differentiating between the children became a little difficult, especially when some of the girls happened to look alike.

Believe it or not, I don’t feel that BIB truly showed the destitution of the brothels of Calcutta. The shots were not wide and didn’t fully encompass the area. One did become emotionally involved with the kids, though, especially with Avijit, the boy whose artistic talent brings him prizes and good fortune, only to be held back by the confusion of the Indian bureaucracy. (By the way, at first I totally spelled bureaucracy wrong. That’s a tricky word to spell!) The ending was not quite an ending, since life never has an ending when you’re right in the middle of it; I was saddened but not surprised by some of the epilogues. On the other hand, there were a few children who surprised me in their tenacity and ability to get out of their situations. Even though BIB won the Oscar for best documentary, I wouldn’t recommend seeing it, unless it’s on video and you really, really enjoy photography.

GP was a movie I didn’t expect to enjoy, but I actually did. It was made a year ago, and thus it was filmed before most of the American casualties in Iraq had occurred. GP is a picture of the lives of soldiers in Iraq, one that hadn’t been presented as well in “Fahrenheit 9/11.” This was less of a political missive and more of a video diary of Charlie Battery, a group of soldiers who live in and work out of a decrepit old palace in Baghdad. They have a pool, a band, and some parties, but for the most part, they spend their days in fear that an IED on the street will blow up their poorly armored vehicles. They break into houses at night, searching out members of Hussein’s party; sometimes civilly, sometimes violently. The variety of people serving over there was fascinating: women and men, people of all ethnic backgrounds. I thought the film portrayed quite well the different reactions the soldiers receive from the Iraqi people — some help and serve as translators and informants, some join groups that are being trained to police Baghdad (“Only for the money,” said one soldier), some throw rocks and build bombs and aim to get Americans out.

I got bored a couple times during the movie, but I think that’s because the soldiers’ lives actually get a little rote at times. There were a couple things that stuck with me — first, a soldier commented that he doesn’t feel like he’s protecting the USA anymore – he’s now concerned with protecting himself. And at the end of the documentary, we learn that a few soldiers we met in the previous eighty minutes have died in various altercations.

I recommend “Gunner Palace.” It’s very easy to forget that 1500 American military have died in Iraq already — these are our fellow citizens, and their stories should be heard, whether one agrees with the war or not.

Hello, internets! My name is Alicia, and I am Mike’s sister. I have been in hiding for far too long. But in the time since I have last posted, I have seen many a movie, including, but not limited to: Closer, The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, Hotel Rwanda, Talk To Her, and Sideways.

Before I endeavor to review one of the above movies, I would like to retract my fiery and hasty quoting of the Plymouth Acclaim. I apologize to my esteemed colleague Kurt. Kurt, let us indeed share the marathon task of reviewing movies, shows, cookie recipes, restaurants, and other sundries, such as My Incredibly Unproductive Monday.* I offer an olive branch to you, Kurt — we can call this section of the blog “Fatty and Alicia’s Movie Reviews.” What do you think?

OK. Today I’d like to review “Closer”, since it stars one of my brother’s favorite actresses, Natalie Portman, whose real name is Natalie Hershlag. Yup. That’s her real name. And according to imdb, she is sometimes credited as “Natalie Domini”. I’ve never been a big fan of Portman-Hershlag-Domini since I saw the Star Wars prequels — George Lucas couldn’t have asked her to act so blandly, could he have? And “Where The Heart Is” was not the Oscar-worthy tearjerker I had never thought it would be. However, “Garden State” changed my mind about her (although I was very nervous about her wallpaper-paste acting during the scene in which she first appears, foisting The Shins upon unsuspecting ER patients). She proved to be adorable, and since Zach Braff is *endlessly* adorable, I was adorabled out of my mind and fell in love and moved to LA to be with Zach and we’re getting married!

Actually, that didn’t happen. But I loved the movie, and became a slight Portman admirer. And Braff lover. Um, I mean “fan”. “Closer” has Portman playing a harsher character than those she’s previously portrayed. She’s a member of an ensemble cast comprising Julia Roberts, Clive Owen, and Jude Law, and she won a Golden Globe for her performance. If you’re curious how she could have possibly beaten out Meryl Streep and Virginia Madsen, rest assured that I feel the same way. As Kayser said, “Every fourth line went flat!” And in the beginning of the movie, I felt she was simply reprising her “Garden State” character — quirky, cute, man-hypnotizing, and jealousy-inducing to certain movie reviewers**. Perhaps this was intentional; I could see it as the director’s way to initially disguise the painfully avoidant life Alice, her character, actually leads. The director, by the way, is Mike Nichols, who did “The Graduate” a number of years ago. Interestingly, “The Graduate” became quite a successful play, and “Closer” was originally a stage production. Clive Owen, who plays Larry, was a member of the stage cast; he was fantastic, believable, and probably the only (albeit slightly) sympathetic character in the movie. The others — MAN! At one point Kayser asked me if I wanted to leave as I sunk into the depths of my seat — the emotional trauma between the four extremely selfish, manipulative, hurting and hurtful characters was a lot to stomach. But I stuck it out!! I’m tough like that. I suppose it was worth it — it’s a great movie: well acted, well written, with beautiful people. But I have refrained from recommending it to my friends, unless they’re the cynical type who really want to be depressed about relationships and the fact that Jude Law is NOT ACTUALLY CUTE EVEN THOUGH PEOPLE MAGAZINE SEEMS TO THINK HE IS.***

In any case, Julia Roberts was also excellent, and again, she’s not an actress of whom I’ve been extremely fond. She even looked lovely with blond hair, and she pulled off a slew of obscenities with such conviction that I’m convinced she has the mouth of a trucker at home. Watch out, Hazel and Phinneauoueus. Phieneuaus, Phyneais. Whatever.

In conclusion? Great movie. Thumbs up to direction, filming, screenplay, Clive Owen, Julia Roberts, Jude Law’s voice (not face), 3/4 of Natalie, and all of Zach Braff. Would I say, “Go out and see this with all your friends!!”? No. It’s pretty harsh. Here’s when you should see this movie: it’s incredibly sunny out, you and all your friends are in fantastic relationships, you’ve just had a Red Bull, and you’ve won the lottery, even if it’s just $5 on a scratch ticket. That way, while you’re watching human relations dissolve in adulterous and pathological acid, you can say, “No worries! I’m WIRED and I have 5 bucks and I’m going to the beach with Zach Braff after this!!!”

*(M.I.U.M was so unproductive that I am actually writing this at 1:30 AM on Tuesday. In case you’re interested, M.I.U.M involved surfing the internet mindlessly, baking some good cookies, reading out loud from Harper’s to some friends, watching half of Days of Our Lives, putting a box on top of a cabinet, and making lists of things to do on Tuesday.)

**Only some. Not me.

*** I would like to direct the staff at People to Zach Braff if they’re looking for cute. Seriously, check these photos out:

exhibit 1: jude law

exhibit 2: zach braff

No contest. Zach Braff = proof of God’s devotion to women.

So seeing as Alicia either doesn’t know how to type a movie review or she doesn’t know how to watch movies, I, Kurt Onofrey, am making a bid to claim the Movie Reviewer Title from her. From this day henceforth I will be both more dilligent in the Movie Reviewing Posting, as well as responding to movie review requests. And to kick off this new Golden Age I’ll start off with the National blockbuster, Ocean’s 12:

Ocean’s 12

Ocean’s 12 has been burning a path through America’s Movie theaters this past week and with good cause. Starring such dynamic acting talent as George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, and Matt Damon. Reprising their roles as thieves and pickpockets from the remake of the the movie Oceans’ Eleven, Danny and his group of criminals are hit with a blast from the past as Las Vegas Casino kingpin Terry Benedict shows up to settle on a debt from the first movie. To make up for the money owed the crew must take a job to pay back the 160 million that they stole, plus interest.
The entire cast from the first film is back again from Don Cheadle to Bernie Mac. With such an all star cast you can’t really miss. Everyone plays a much more integral role in the caper this time and it is nice to see everyone taking part. After a few foul ups, a rival thief, and a pesky Interpol Agent (Catherine Zeta-Jones), the story starts to heat up. The acting in this film was just as amazing as the first film. The scheme and the eventual heist is one of the best laid stories i’ve seen in a while. But lets not put all the glory on the actors here. I found the cinemetography to be abosultely fabulous. One scene from an landing pad was pretty spectacular.
Over all I would say that this film surpasses the first film in its entertainment factor, but falls a little short of the original in its ingenuity. A definate purchase if your a fan of any of the stars in the movie, or if you enjoyed the original. I’d give this movie 4 Ocelot Claws out of 5.

Well I hope you enjoyed my first review. There are plenty more where that came from.

~ K

CAKE

On October 7th, Mike K. and I went to see Cake perform at the Orpheum Theater in Boston. A longtime fan of Cake, I was excited for weeks about this concert and couldn’t understand why neither my brother nor my sister wanted to have a night out on the town. I prepped, and repeatedly played “Motorcade of Generosity,” “Comfort Eagle,” “Fashion Nugget,” and “Prolonging the Magic” on my computer. I was worried about one thing, however: the newest album, “Pressure Chief.” Sure, “No Phone” is a good song, but upon purchasing the rest of the CD, I was sorely disappointed with the other tracks. I felt like John McCrae’s voice was weaker, and the songwriting lacked the biting flair of their previous attempts. Then, to make matters worse, I learned that “Northern State” would be the opening band, and after visiting their website, http://www.northernstate.net, I discovered that they were possibly the worst “band” I have ever experienced, even if only for a second. (Note to self: do not join all white female rap group – bad career move. Especially if one of the members has renamed herself “Hesta Prynn.” Actually, let me insert a little review of northernstate.net right now: easy to navigate, yet FEARFULLY WRONG.
Why, oh why, does your font change to street graffiti when I run my unsuspecting mouse arrow over it? And why does your music suck? And why does this woman exist: http://www.princesssuperstar.com/discography/is.shtml?
And why does she call her records “rekkids”? NO. STOP.)

Anyway, I had nothing to fear, for we skipped out on Northern Suck, and hit Chinatown instead. Here is my review for out Chow Chou City dinner: Yum. I ordered the delightful green beans and beef, and Mike got something equally as good, but I must confess I don’t remember what it was. The service was speedy, though, and the Tsing Tsao beer was fizzy and relaxing, setting the stage for: CAKE.

We had seats way in the back, but they were great! We were right in front of the projection booth, so we didn’t have to worry about blocking anyone’s view. The Orpheum’s temperature that night was pretty much how I would imagine a theater-sized oven’s would be – we were like little appetizers, slowly being cooked for some sort of gargantuan creature’s pre-game h’ors d’ouerve. That didn’t happen, though. No roof was taken from the building and we weren’t plucked from it like ants.

The audience was mostly aging frat dudes, which I thought was kind of funny. In fact, at one point during the night, the heady odor of pot wafted over us. I pictured a 28 year old guy, hanging out with his buddies from Xi Theta Epsilon, the BU Chapter, hearing “Daria” and saying, “Dude, remember how awesome it was when we heard that song that time with that chick at that bar? And then we smoked up and it was awesome and we watched Robocop and then we threw your sofa out the window? And then we smoked pot? Dude, you have some? No way! For old times, dude, for old times…”

Set List:
Sheep Go To Heaven
Frank Sinatra
Is This Love?
something by someone named Buck Oates????
Stickshifts and Safetybelts
Comanche
Rock ‘n’ Roll Lifestyle
Daria
Nugget
Wheels
Never There
No Phone
Haze of Love
Carbon Monoxide
The Distance
I Will Survive

It was such a relief to hear so much old material. And McCrea’s voice was fabulous — no weakness there! He did engage in banter with the audience that bordered on angry, belligerent derision, though. You’d laugh, but then you’d think, “Is he actually angry at the audience?” Especially when he was trying to get the crowd to sing. I am proud to say that we were on the side that sang the loudest. We pleased John McCrea. The other side didn’t so much.

The audience lots its momentum during the Buck Oates (still not sure if that’s who it was) cover, and I worried about the vibe diminishing even more. But man, to put Stickshifts and Safetybelts right afterwards was a swift and clever recovery. In fact, we learned that the band doesn’t actually have a setlist with them — everything’s on the fly. Good work, CAKE. Also, congratulations on really doing LIVE versions of your music! It’s so fun for the audience to hear songs in a new way.

THX 1138

Before “Star Wars,” and before “Bad Movies Posing as Star Wars,” George Lucas was a film student. Film students tend to wear black and have interesting, creative ideas (usually involving darkness, pathos, or ironic humor); they do not invent characters such as Jar Jar Binks. That said, since “THX 1138″ was originally a short directed by Lucas while he was still at school, it requires a lot more thought than one will need on May 12, 2005*. Actually, it required a lot more thought than my brain was capable of producing, but lately I’ve realized that daily activities such as knitting, and walking, also require more brain power that I can muster, so take my confusion with a grain of salt.

THX shows us a bizarre, sterile, and unorganized future; I imagined it as Lucas’ version of Futuristic Communism-gone-awry (as opposed to Extremely Succesful Communism, of course). Isn’t awry a great word? Did I spell it correctly? If you look at it quickly, you’re like, “Yeah, awry,” but if you look again, and think about its spelling, you think, “Why isn’t this pronounced AWree?” But then you look up the word on etymonline.com and discover that awry, c.1375, “crooked, askew” is from a- “on” + wry (q.v.). And then you’re like, “Oh.”

Think Communism, plus a heavily medicated populace, plus a Wizard-behind-the-green-curtain “religion”, plus Stormtrooper-robot guards with electric sticks, plus humorously inept human security guards and you’ve got the backdrop for THX. Add to that: dramatic pathos in the form of citizens who demedicate and realize they have emotions (a la Garden State, but grosser and involving more vomit and whacks with said electric sticks), and you’ve got a recipe for sharp social commentary! Or maybe not! It doesn’t matter, because didn’t you hear the sound those electric sticks were making? Just like light sabers!

Actually, I enjoyed this movie, even though I didn’t understand why, even though everyone was drugged silly, the “villianous” character still was jealous, possesive, and obsessive. Or why, even though the calming religious figure was obviously automated, the people continued to talk to it in its absolution booths as if it were a god. Although, I suppose the society’s founders realized the need for psychological catharsis even with the presence of dulling meds. The human brain is a powerful thing, but Lucas forgot about that with “Attack of the Clones.”

Intrigued? I would say THX is worth watching, but probably would be better enjoyed if you were on a combination of drugs as well. It gets a little 70s weird, like with the psychiatric ward that stretches to, seemingly, infinity, and look! There’s a guy, but he’s really a hologram, trying to find his way out, too. (Spoiler: there’s a sad little scene at the end when the hologram can’t figure out how to work an automobile. He dies. But does he really?)

Anyone know of a movie about the future that doesn’t involve a deranged de-evolution of society?

* note: I did not know the premiere date off the top of my head; I had to look it up on StarWars.com. Beware! Apparently love of Star Wars causes one to become incapable of using punctuation on message boards: “we know that the emperor does in fact become the emperor in this movie. i would think that perhaps he does so after the jedi confront him and then he is able to say the jedi cannont help us anymore infact they are evil, they tried to kill me,after all i have done for this democracy, what i am going to do is create an imperial senate and i am going to rule as your emperor. then vader/anakin fights obi and looses. he wakes up in the black suit the empire is already born.”

Coming soon! Alicia’s most sought after movie reviews!

Expect wonders!