After a brief break for that excellent (if I do say so myself) Halloween mix, we're back with the regular Sunglasses After Dark podcast. We discuss some recent shows, showcase some new releases, and hip you to what's coming soon. If ever there were a build to a podcast's sound, this would be it -- we start out rather mellow, and just go until we're blasting your brain through your eardrums. Podcast #120, "Psychedelic Sounds" Oils, "Waves We Feel" ("Waves We Feel" single) J. Roddy Walston & the Business, "Same Days" (Essential Tremors) Built to Spill, "Girl" (The Normal Years) Diarrhea Planet, "Platinum Girls" (Aliens In The Outfield) --- The Turtles, "You Showed Me" (Present the Battle of the Bands) The 13th Floor Elevators, "Roller Coaster" (The Psychedelic Sounds of...) Ultimate Painting, "Winter In Your Heart" (Ultimate Painting) Acid Baby Jesus, "All of Your Love" (Selected Recordings) --- 999, "Emergency" (999) Nothing, "Get Well" (Guilty of Everything) Protomartyr, "French Kiss" (Sub Pop 1000) Hossferatu, "Mountebank" (Hossferatu)
podcast on November 3rd, 2014 by Nick – Be the first to comment
reviews on October 30th, 2014 by Nick – Be the first to comment
A little something different for this second-to-last installment of the Halloween Horror Marathon. Last night, the wife and I took in a theatrical rebroadcast of the Nation Theatre's 2012 production of Frankenstein. Directed by Danny Boyle, this was a production starring Johnny Lee Miller and Benedict Cumberbatch, which repeatedly sold out its stagings. Part of that was due to the fact that, each night, Miller and Cumberbatch would switch the roles of the creature and the doctor. The version we saw last night featured Cumberbatch as the doctor and Miller and the creature. It was absolutely wonderful. It's not an easy watch, given that the creature raises horrible questions about the nature of man, given his immediate abandonment upon birth, followed by people treating him based on his looks, rather than the content of his character. The staging is a masterful use of spare sets whose skeletal aspects give you just enough idea of what's to be portrayed, while also allowing you to focus on the performances themselves. Miller and Cumberbatch are riveting, and you can't but marvel at the physicality of Miller's performance. The play is absolutely mesmerizing, and both Miller and Cumberbatch do exceptionally well in their performances. Despite the play's name, it's so much more about the creature and his attempt to join humanity, while all the while being rejected by it. The creature's part is far more meaty, and I'd be quite curious to see the other version, but, alas, I wasn't aware of the Monday screening until afterward, so missed that particular version. When the old man De Lacey spends a year teaching him, the creature grows in intellect and does good deeds for the man's son and daughter-in-law. They, upon seeing him, beat him and drive him off. He returns, and burns them alive in their shack. It's heartbreaking to see how the creature has been wronged, and to see kindness on both sides repaid with violence and cruelty. The creature learns all lessons taught him, it seems, and the ones taught most often are lies, cruelty, heartbreak, and deception. That particular portion of the play is the entire production of Frankenstein in microcosm: the monster learns a terrible lesson, gains hope, and then has his hopes dashed, and each time, becomes closer to being more like his creator than anyone could've ever expected. For as learned as both men are -- and they are, as the play repeatedly proves, equals -- the creature and the doctor are both flawed in ways that are not so obvious, and more alike than pure physicality would otherwise indicate. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lsu-gbgqPoE[/embed] If you get a chance to see this, please do. It's never going to be released on DVD, so these movie theatre screenings are the only way to see it, and that's really as it should be. Director Boyle and musical performers Underworld mean this is far more cinematic an experience than most nights at the play, and seeing it in an immersive, communal environment means that attention must be paid to what's going on. It's an uninterrupted arc, not something you can pause or look at your phone while experiencing.
movies, reviews on October 29th, 2014 by Nick – 2 Comments
An unjustly overlooked classic. A strange film that manages to be a creature feature, revenge flick, and supernatural horror picture all in one. My mom's favorite horror movie. These are all apt descriptions for Pumpkinhead, Stan Winston's 1988 movie starring Lance Henrickson. It's funny -- I know I saw this movie over and over when I was younger, but I might as well have never seen it, for as vague as the plot was in my memory. I don't remember it being as hallucinatory and freaky-looking as it is. There are angles and elements of Pumpkinhead's shooting that make it look like Sam Raimi had control of the camera. They contrast nicely with the almost pastoral scenes early on, before everything goes violent and revenge-y. In addition to the crazy camera movement and light streaming through backlit fog for its nighttime shots, Pumpkinhead looks like Texas Chainsaw Massacre during its daylight scenes. I watched this on a full-screen, untouched DVD from 2000, and it still managed to look frickin' great, despite the fact that Scream Factory put out a pretty excellent reissue of this on Blu-ray earlier this year. Honestly, though, the grainy, slightly blown-out look of the release I have only lent to the terrifying, awful aspect of everything. In terms of pacing, it's more early '70s than late '80s. You've got to be patient with this one. Pumpkinhead's slow build of southern gothic horror to an all out slaughter means that, while there's a good tease in the first scene to get your blood pumping, it's not until nearly halfway through that things get going. This being a Stan Winston film, the creature effects are unsurprisingly amazing. It's a great looking film, even if it's pretty terribly acted, with the exception of Henrickson. Granted, he's just doing the quietly tough thing he does in everything, but it's especially suited to this picture. The creature is like a backwoods Giger creation. I can see how there were three sequels: the premise of Pumpkinhead as some kind of avenging reaver makes this an open-ended franchise of infinite possibilities. Why there were, however, I don't know. It's not particularly exciting unless you get an emotional resonance in the revenge, and killing a kid at the start of every picture will endear you to no-one. Still, despite all the striking parts about how it looks, and the delightful way in which the film brings a sort of pastoral British horror (a la The Wicker Man) to the American south, and the ways in which its pacing mirrors '70s horror, the plot's pure '80s horror, with the obnoxious young people in a convertible being punished. While being a fun romp, Pumpkinhead is ultimately just another movie which proves the horror movie rule: young city folk ought not be jerks in the country, or they will die terrible, violently bloody deaths. It's almost to the point nowadays that, should I see a nice sports car loaded with 20-somethings, I wonder who's going to be the first one to go, and how it'll happen. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXlcm1el1D0[/embed]
links, movies, reviews on October 28th, 2014 by Nick – 3 Comments
Today's post features special guest commentary from Cinapse's Liam O'Donnell. He and both do this "watch a shit-ton of horror in October and write about it" thing, and so we've decided to team up on a few films this month. His column his entitled "Journal of Fear," and you should totally read it. He also does a podcast called Cinepunx with Joshua Alvarez, and it’s super-fun. Go listen. On to the film ... Nick Spacek When you watch a movie that has influenced so many other pictures, it's hard to separate what it was from what it now is. A Bay of Blood (aka Blood Bath, aka Twitch of the Death Nerve) was Mario Bava taking the violence of giallo and making it the focus of a film, rather than yet another stylistic element. However, seeing how much of Bava's film would shape the next three decades of slasher pictures, one can't help but see how many tropes were lifted from A Bay of Blood, as if its plot was the Ten Commandments, written in stone for later directors to use: teenagers getting offed in a decrepit location, overly-complicated deaths, a creepy character in the background, and even the one kid who's super-awkward and weird around girls. Divesting one's self of the "oh, well, this has all been done before" attitude is paramount for enjoying A Bay of Blood, because in 1971, it hadn't. This was all new, and watching it through unfiltered eyes makes it pretty astonishing. While gore'd been done before -- Herschell Gordon Lewis' films certainly set the standard a decade before -- it'd never been done so realistically and so up-front. Bava set the stage with Blood and Black Lace, but that film's an emotional step away from A Bay of Blood, and is as prototypical a giallo as this is a slasher. It's a strange and powerful movie that Bava's crafted here, and the cross and double-cross plot keeps things moving along at a brisk clip, leaving you wondering who's going to die next and how. Any character's up for the killing, and the kills still shock. Bobby getting a cleaver to the face had me gasping aloud. A good portion of A Bay of Blood's shock potential has to do with the absolute contrast between the pastoral long shots and sweeping piano pieces which accompany them and the tight, up-close and personal attacks. The atmosphere is absolutely crafted, and while there are a few moments of levity early on with the teenagers and their frolics, it only serves to make the shocks which follow that much more intense. Liam O'Donnell I carry the great and unavoidable shame that I have not seen nearly as many Bava films as I should have. This is only my third, and yet even with that little experience with his work, this felt like an intense shift. The violence in Bay of Blood is quite pronounced. It is in these shocking scenes I guess the film had the most influence on the forthcoming slasher subgenre. Indeed, some films, like Friday the 13th Part II -- which I reviewed for this series -- borrowed quite obviously from these kills. Strange though, because while I noticed the violence as an intense shift, and I could see how the way it was portrayed was such an important part of the future of filmmaking, it was largely insignificant for me. You so astutely point out, Nick, how difficult it is to see a work which has been so influential for what it is rather than for what it would become reflected in other films. That is true of this movie, but for me perhaps it allowed me to see how unique Bava's film is compared to the horror films I am accustomed to. There is something I am having trouble describing about the film, in that I am not sure if it is something anarchic or something nihilistic. That is specifically the way there is no good or bad character in the film, but rather a great net of murder and selfishness which cover the whole. Yes, one could argue the young people caught in the wrong place at the wrong time represent "innocent victims," but do they really? It seems to me that Bava goes out of his way in this film to show something negative or grating or frustrating about most of the characters on the screen. More importantly, though the film plays at first as a giallo style mystery, it very quickly becomes a tale of murder which includes many many people. In spreading out the iconic role of "the killer" across so many, it is true that Bava creates some dynamic tension to a slightly over burdened script. No one could accuse Bay of Blood of being too kinetic, I don't think. However, he also takes apart the structure of these kinds of movies, intentionally or no, that does not translate to the slasher films he seems to have inspired. While classic slasher films do like to show us the moral failings of many of the victims of their insane murderers, they still maintain a classic good and bad structure. There is the killer and their are the killers victims. Perhaps we feel a certain sympathy or a certain disdain for the killer's various victims, but of course they are victims. I am being a bit too broad, as there are certainly exceptions to this idea, though those films usually spill over into revenge narratives or wish fulfillment narratives. The point is that not only do so many characters kill in this film, they do it for so little. There is not even the noble wronged person but, rather, awful people killing each other. This seems in one way anarchic. It overthrows, possibly, our assumptions about relationships of power and good. Yet, it is also nihilistic, as it seems to assume that almost every person, given enough reason, could decapitate someone or embed a machette in their skull. Of course, I am getting a bit too heady. At base, it seems that Bava was doing exactly as you suggested, that is highlighting the violence of the Giallo genre above all else. Do you think then there is more to the film then that? Should we thank him for the history of movies he spawned or regret his unintentional creation? Nick: I think that the innumerable variations on the theme created by Bava demonstrate so very well the flexibility of what he created. Given that the slasher genre has been shown to take place in any locale, with any character, with any victim, and still manage to provide new and interesting twists over forty year on, I'm amazed that it took as long as it did for someone to combine the masked killer story with the Rube Goldberg deaths of b-movies. All the ingredients were there for decades, and yet, it took decades before someone thought to combine them. I think your point of nihilism isn't too heady at all. This film came at the very start of the ‘70s, and that was a decade of movies absolutely loaded with moral ambiguity. Be it Jake in Chinatown, almost any character in The Godfather, Travis Bickell in Taxi Driver, or even Han Solo in Star Wars, the decade became defined by characters who operated in moral gray areas. This was just a bit more black and white -- well, almost purely, darkly evil. Do you think this is due to an Italian way of thing, like Sergio Leone's pictures? Liam: Well, one thing that did not originally occur to me was humor. In other words, is it possible that this stunningly dark turn is not -- in some sense -- comic? Certainly, the film has some comic moments, and I don't think that would be outside of the Bava style. Then again, a darkly comic take on something so morally grey, or rather so intensely evil, would not be too far outside of Leone either. I can't help but wonder if, as an American, I am inclined perhaps to take the film too seriously, which is perhaps to take it not seriously enough. That is, am I not peering below the surface to how utterly comic it is to have a "murder mystery" where many of the supposed red herrings are still actually killers. There is just simply not one main killer, a sort of focus of our intention. Is Bay of Blood some sort of comic farce? Or is the film simply having fun with a genre Bava was, at this point, one of the pioneers of? Is it too simple, when it comes to these Italian films, to look for genre clarity at all? Nick: I'm astonished at how many layers this movie ends up having, when you take a look at it. I didn't even think about the humor. Upon further consideration, it really is almost a parody of giallo, if you really think about it. Rather than one killer, masked or otherwise hidden, you've multiple, all of whom are easily tied to the deaths they cause. The deaths aren't shown in artily-framed shots, lit like a dream (or nightmare, depending), but are instead presented in a stark manner. This is almost the lead-in for the cannibal films which would later follow, as well -- death as shock in and of itself, as opposed to some greater artistic statement. In this case, death is the statement, and it's blunt: "Here, this is what you seem to enjoy the most." And -- going back to the humor -- I don't think it's a coincidence that the future films which took this template and not only succeeded, but are still considered worth seeing, also have that strange sense of humor to them. Given that, is there a film that came later that you think a worthy heir to this progenitor? Liam: I am actually not sure. From one perspective there are many, be they the F13 series or The Burning, slasher films that take a lot from this movie. However, to focus on them as directly from Bay of Blood does exactly what seems to have not been the point. It almost seems that Bava made a film similar to Hanneke, in that it pointed a finger at its audience and asked what it was they wanted to see. It then played with the feeling of tension, the fear and drama of the piece, until it becomes farcical. It pushes the boundaries between what is the dramatic real that we can accept, and when the performance goes beyond that. Not that I think Bava is attempting to make so complicated a point, but it is still the direction the film seems to go. Then again, Bava also claimed this was his favorite of his films. Perhaps this tension, between what is plausible and not, and between what the audience wants or does not want to see is the point. In that way, I am reminded of, say, Funny Games or similar films. However, those movies are more literally "meta," in that this commentary on a genre or condition is the entire point and content. Bava has made a suitably horrifying giallo, certainly one that bends and even transcends the genre, but is still what it is. The question is, are there any films that seem to push so far, but are not clearly satirical. I am reminded of another unlikely film, Mothers Day, but this is also more clearly a satire. The question for me, and perhaps you can give your insight on this, is whether Bava is laughing with the audience or at them. If we are supposed to be in on the joke, so to speak, then I think Nightmare on Elm Street might be an interesting comparison. Not a comedy, but with some real humor injected. However, if he is laughing at the audience, something I think the ending suggests a bit, then I am at a loss as to what might be related. Do you think I am being too harsh on Bava? Is Bay of Blood a cynical commentary or simply a good time playing with gore and violence? If anything, does it say negative things about us that we enjoy the movie so much? I found it fun if a little confusing at times, and I am now wondering if I should have! Nick: I think it's meant to be fun. Given that everything else I've seen of Bava's -- Black Sunday, Blood and Black Lace, Kill Baby Kill, and Black Sabbath -- has some element of humor to it (especially Karloff's parched desert dryness of delivery in Black Sabbath), I can't but imagine that this is supposed to be the film that's an exercise in ridiculousness. Maybe Bava's laughing at you while you laugh at the film, because that ending is just over-the-top in terms of one last absurd plot twist. However, I think he's willing to let the viewer enjoy themselves, showing nudity, showing blood, and just generally amping up the ridiculousness inherent in giallo to an extent that he accidentally created a new genre along the way. Liam: I think you are right and perhaps that is what he also did, as far as innovation: commentary with humor. That is to say, it really feels like Bava is in some way satirizing the audience's desire for this violence, but I don't think he is judging it. The film is having so much fun with it's bevy of ridiculous villains, the various ridiculous character traits and odd ways they interact. In fact, even the kills are amazing, and done in such a way that I cannot believe Bava is not enjoying his art as much as we are in watching it. Yet that ending does seem to suggest to me some silly nod to his audience, he is not just performing at his art, which is creating this intense murder film. No, we are part of it, he acknowledges us, and thus implicates us in his fun I think. He is going over the top, to new heights of blood. Granted, here we are some 44 years later and it may not seem like much. It was a rough year for movies though. Bay of Blood was one of many to face backlash and censors for its extreme content. Bava, I think though, hints not just that he is pushing his art form to new extremes, but that this is where it is going. It is in many ways a watershed moment not only for film and the horror genre we both love, but for the culture as a whole. Bay of Blood is still powerful in it's intensity, and while it may not be as extreme as it seemed then, it is an incredibly well executed bit of brutal fun. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGSJCLWAL3Q[/embed] Christopher Brown's Video Nasties podcast did an excellent episode on the film, and you can listen to that here.
books, reviews, rock 'n' roll on October 28th, 2014 by Nick – Be the first to comment
How can a book be so rewarding, and yet so oddly frustrating? Paul Trynka's new book for Viking, an autobiography entitled Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones, manages to go deep and still end up feeling like a gloss. Brian Jones is, obviously, about the guitarist who founded the Rolling Stones, and whose death ultimately overshadowed his early contributions to what is arguably one of the greatest rock 'n' roll bands of all time. Trynka's book attempts to uncover hidden aspects of Jones' life story, and to make his musical talents and skills as important to his story as his drowning in a swimming pool has become. Much is made of Jones' charisma and how he originally outshined the Glimmer Twins, Mick and Keith, of whom so much would ultimately be made. Reading the book, one ultimately wonders how Jones' musical contributions and early influence have been so thoroughly whitewashed. Trynka makes a good point regarding history being written by the victors, but fails to follow up on an even more interesting point: the Rolling Stones, after Jones left, essentially dried up musically. I would've loved to have seen the book fleshed out with more in-studio descriptions. While most books overdo the production aspect of things, Brian Jones focuses almost too much on Jones' personal life. For a book subtitled "The Making of the Rolling Stones," one would expect more on how his musical contributions shaped the group, and what his absence meant. A statement that Sticky Fingers and Exile on Main St. were the Stones coasting on the fumes from Jones' influence needs a lot more to back it up. Other things that make this well-written book seem strange: I appreciate the interviews Trynka conducted, but it appears the author's attempted to avoid using too many prior sources. It makes this a wholly-original work, but means that one reads 350 pages about Brian Jones without ever really reading anything in Jones' own words. There's the occasional quote from an interview, but for the post part, Jones is spoken of by others. It's odd, but not as weird as Trynka's habit of discussing the construction of songs without ever naming the song outright. It's clever, because you can puzzle it out, but for those of us not familiar with the entirety of British rock 'n' roll, having to pull up Wikipedia to suss out the name of a Beatles b-side (obvious though it may be) is downright irritating. In the end, Paul Trynka's Brian Jones is an intriguing read, and one that opens up the Rolling Stone guitarist and founder's life to be so much more than his death. The way in which he's depicted as a genius who isn't exactly the best person is refreshingly realistic, and I found myself listening more closely to those early Stones albums to see where his influence could be felt.
photos, punk on October 27th, 2014 by Nick – Be the first to comment
Friday, October 24, California surf-punks Agent Orange played the Bottleneck in Lawrence, Kansas. It was their first appearance around here since a wintery show at the Jackpot four or five years back, and this time, the crowd was much larger. Agent Orange was touring with Kansas City's the Architects, who brought their punk rock 'n' roll to the stage in spades. Openers Stiff Middle Fingers kicked things off with a high-energy set of old-school punk rock which I'm sure made the Agent Orange guys feel right at home. We've galleries of all three acts after the jump. Agent Orange [gallery ids="18060,18061,18062,18063,18064,18065"] The Architects [gallery ids="18054,18055,18056,18057,18058,18059"] Stiff Middle Fingers [gallery ids="18048,18049,18050,18051,18052,18053"]
movies, reviews, streaming audio / video, video on October 24th, 2014 by Nick – Be the first to comment
It's especially interesting to think 1960's The Amazing Transparent Man came out the same year as Psycho. The two films couldn't be more different, despite both being black and white, low budget scare pictures. Psycho essentially redefined the thriller picture for the next -- well, forever, really -- and managed to achieve a massive level of discomfort and fear, while not really showing much of anything. In its most famous scene, Hitchcock let the mind create the actual horrific stabbing, while cutting away at the last minute. Despite showing you where things disappear, and revealing everything in excruciating detail as it goes along, The Amazing Transparent Man might as well have been made two decades prior, given its smashed-up plot, which combines radioactive sci-fi mumbo-jumbo and gangster pictures. It has more in common with something like The Man They Could Not Hang than it does with anything that would come in the '60s. It's really sort of a dying breed of picture that would soon vanish from the landscape. It's not terrible, by any means: the snappy banter's cute and clever, and there are about two or three double-cross attempts, none of which amount to much. Plus, watching characters get knocked around by the unseen gangster Joey Faust (clever!) is uproarious fun. The actors are wonderfully acrobatic in their miming, and seeing a guard take an imaginary beating is delightful. Given scenes like that, it should come as no surprise that The Amazing Transparent Man's scored like a Looney Tune. The plot's completely spelled out by the accompanying strings, making all of the movie a bit cartoonish, with things like pizzicato notes accompanying the invisible Faust as he's walking to offer some sense of what's going on, since even his clothes disappear after being zapped with the ray. It might as well have been Carl Stalling conducting things for all the subtlety the music offers. When all is said and done, The Amazing Transparent Manis only an hour long, and seems more like a lengthy Twilight Zone episode without a moral or twist. It's a weird little thing, and worth checking out if you've the time. As a matter of fact, you can watch it below via YouTube. It was riffed in episode 623 of Mystery Science Theater 3000, so I think I'll have to dig through my stack of booted MST3K eps and see if I can't revisit it. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dO-fYCWctBA[/embed] Disclaimer: For whatever reason, I'd thought this was way creepier than it ended up being, hence its inclusion as part of the marathon. There's kind of one every year. This is it. Whoops.
electronic, reviews, streaming audio / video, upcoming release, vinyl on October 23rd, 2014 by Nick – 2 Comments
Combining the best of two worlds of classic cinema scores, the Night Terrors' Pavor Nocturnus is an absolute blast. Working in tandem as it does with sci-fi theremin and a huge pipe organ, all of this album sounds akin to modern rescore of something like Mario Bava's Planet of the Vampires -- horror in space, essentially. Recorded on the largest pipe organ in the western hemisphere, which stands an astonishing 32 feet high and uses two motors to power the whole thing, one at 15 horsepower, and the other at 20. The sound this thing is far more powerful than any synthesizer could ever hope to be. There's just a deep resonance to Pavor Nocturnus I've not heard in a recording before. The grandiosity of the pipe organ actually allows for quite a study in contrasts. A very good case in point is "Megafauna," which has synths and the organ playing counterpoint melodies, and the difference in the thinness of the synths contrasting with rich fullness of the pipe organ really makes for a sonically dynamic track. "Blue Black" is the most masterful use of a theremin I think I've ever heard -- it took a solid minute of the song before I figured out it wasn't some oddly-modified violin. It's nicely complimented by the beats and drumming on "Gravissima," and that's what makes the Night Terrors so interesting on this album: there's a basic theme from which they work, but they diversify so much from that point, that you can't help but want to know what they'll come up with next. Frankly, the entirety of Pavor Nocturnus is that it almost out-Goblins Goblin. The Night Terrors work in that same sort of progressive rock meets abject fear vein, and their first two albums, Back to Zero and Spiral Vortex, I'd not really been able to get into, despite quite a bit of acclaim on the second. There's something about the addition of this pipe organ that lends the band a bit more gravitas than they'd previously been able to drum up, and makes their sound far more unique than the previous idol worship. This is the first release on Twisted Nerve, the new music imprint from Australia reissue label Dual Planet and Finder Keepers. I'm happy to see so many of these reissue labels branch out into releasing new music, and this is a very exciting start to Twisted Nerve. I can't wait to hear what comes next. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ijvq2xVbjIk[/embed] More details on the Melbourne Town Hall pipe organ, where the album was recorded, can be found here. For more information on the Night Terrors' Pavor Nocturnus, or to purchase the album when it comes out on Halloween, you can visit the Dual Planet website.
movies, reviews, streaming audio / video, video on October 22nd, 2014 by Nick – 1 Comment
A pretty lo-fi little flick, Among Friends has a nice little grit to it that reminds me of '80s movies like Happy Birthday to Me or April Fool's Day. You get a bunch of friends gathered together for a celebration, then shit goes awry. A standard plot, with plenty of opportunity for mistaken identity and jump scare surprises. The '80s vibe is augmented with it being a costume bash with crimped hair and pastel tuxes, along with a soundtrack that vibes super new wave. There's a character named Blane. Kane Hodder plays the limo driver. And, much like the previous movie, 100 Bloody Acres, we have a character tripping -- this time, mushrooms. There's also some other drugs, but to share them would spoil the fun. "Whodunit, prom night 1984" is the theme ... and, of course, while playing a game to discover a killer, shit goes terribly askew, but not in the way you think it's going to. If you've seen Would You Rather, you've a pretty good idea of what Among Friends has to offer. It's a little less gleefully clever, and far more gorily visceral. It's not as much fun as I'd expected. Billing this as a horror comedy is stretching the limits of what exactly can be defined as hilarity. It gets a little too torture-y for it to be any fun after a while, even given the off-kilter, unhinged mania of the revenge. You'd think the fact that the craziness keeps ratcheting up would result in a gleeful sense of "holy shit!" Not so: it's just steadily more fucked-up and unpleasant. And, really, that gets repetitive and boring. Fucking, yelling, stabbing / gouging / cutting, repeat. It just happens over and over, to the point where you just hope everyone would just fucking die. There's not a likeable character in the bunch. Even the most victimized character, and the one for whom we should feel the most sympathy and end up rooting for, manages to be an irritating pain. Skip it. Go watch any of the other films I mentioned, and you'll end up having a far more entertaining hour and a half. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_RBN-ozihk[/embed]
books, country, indie, interview, reviews, rockabilly on October 21st, 2014 by Nick – Be the first to comment
The new collection of David Ensminger's interviews, entitled Mavericks of Sound: Conversations with the Artists Who Shaped Indie and Roots Music (out now from Rowman & Littlefield), is a mixed blessing. The insight one gets from the artists with whom he speaks is deep and interesting. It's rare that artists such as Jason Ringenberg of Jason & the Scorchers, the Reverend Horton Heat, or the Nerves and Plimsouls' Peter Case get the sort of deeply-introspective and serious discussion presented here. To see Ensminger go beyond the superficial interviews most of these artists receive -- if they're ever spoken with at all -- is heartening. Mavericks of Sound is best when it allows these rarely-heard musicians to go beyond discussing their latest album, and dig deep into the influences which shaped them, and the particulars of their journey to now. That said: Ensminger can go on. When he does something like laying out a lengthy Woody Guthrie quote in his interview with Robert Earl Keen, you're not quite certain as to whether that's meant to elicit a certain response from his subject, or if it's simply meant to show the depth of Ensminger's own personal knowledge. Rarely does it seem that the author achieves much connection with the artist he's interviewing. Reading the short pieces toward the end of Mavericks of Sound reveals a certain terseness of response from some of his subjects. The final impression I had regarding David Ensminger's Mavericks of Sound is that the author is quote knowledgable, does impeccable research, and has excellent taste in music. That said, his interview style is such that he succeeds in achieving excellent results not so much because of his knowledge and research, but because he's such impeccable taste in subjects. These are people who could tell a good story to a dog on a porch.