It’s impossible to do this movie justice with a short description–the writeup on the Criterion site ventures, “an episode of Scooby-Doo as directed by Mario Bava”, which is probably as close as you’ll get. But try the trailer on for size if you want an idea of just how bizarre and awesome this thing is.
The interview is really dry and technical (which I’m sure is fine for some people), but the sequence itself is fantastic–and you can watch it in its entirety. I absolutely love the typography, the slow-motion, the hyper-sharp colors and the oldschool Metallica. But be warned–it’s quite bloody, and if you’re not used to that kind of thing you might hate it.
I don’t normally get excited about television these days, but I absolutely can’t wait for the first season of Treme, which premieres on HBO this April. Co-created by David Simon (whose HBO series The Wire is pretty much the best TV show I’ve ever seen) and Eric Overmyer (producer of shows like Law and Order, Homicide and St. Elsewhere), Treme is set in post-Katrina New Orleans, and follows a diverse group of residents as they attempt to reconstruct their city and their lives.
Just last week, the restored version of Fritz Lang’s Metropolispremiered at the Berlinale, with a live score performed by the Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester Berlin. Apparently this new version contains nearly 30 minutes (!) of new footage that was discovered in Buenos Aires around two years ago, and it’s supposedly quite close to the original cut. The discovery of this new footage is pretty much a miracle, and the Berlinale screening was so hotly anticipated that it was simulcast on German television and via the web (though I couldn’t watch it at the time, and it’s still not clear whether it was even available outside of Europe).
In any case, on Friday April 9th the folks at the Alamo Drafthouse will screen the film at the decommissioned Seaholm Power plant. In itself a work of industrial art-deco beauty, the Seaholm just might be the perfect setting for this 1927 dystopian sci-fi masterpiece (and this could be a good chance to visit the plant while it still has some genuine charm–it’s currently being developed into a Domain-like yuppie mall). To sweeten the deal, a live score will be performed by Austin’s Golden Hornet Project.
The screening isn’t until April, so there is no word on tickets yet. But I’ll keep you posted. Note that the event page doesn’t specify “newly restored version”, I’m just assuming that’s what it’ll be.
There’s a nice piece over at Design Observer comparing Paul Kersey (Charles Bronson’s character in the 1974 vigilante revenge classic Death Wish) with the controversial American urban planner Robert Moses (who single-handedly reshaped New York, and who is arguably responsible for the car-centric ideology endemic to contemporary American urban planning).
“His methods are visceral and harsh, yet his violence is surgical and ultimately aimed, he imagines, at healing both himself and his city: in order for the larger urban organism to survive, the parasites destroying it must be exterminated. In this Paul is less like [renowned urban theorist] Jane Jacobs and much more like another New York builder, another man of action and practical violence: Robert Moses.”
Besides a formal comparison of these two (in)famous chaps, author Keith Eggener makes some direct connections between architecture and violence, and modern culture’s hunger for quick fixes to complex problems. It’s a good read, and it’s really made me want to rewatch Death Wish.
I used to know a guy who had a VHS tape full of sex films from the 1920s. And though they were tame by today’s standards, I remember seeing the tape and saying out loud, “what kind of deviant did you have to be to own this stuff back in the 1920s?”
While reading the 50th anniversary edition of William Burroughs’ landmark beat novel “Naked Lunch”, I was struck by a similar thought. Even by today’s standards, the book is ugly, violent, and shocking–so it must have seemed exceptionally perverted in the late 1950’s, when it was written and originally published. Of course, people did consider it perverse and dangerous and it was effectively banned in America and you were probably a total weirdo if you owned it. And so it seems even more amazing that the book not only survived legal exile, but went on to become highly influential and culturally important.
From the first few pages, “Naked Lunch” is gritty and subversive and amazing. The prose practically assaults you–it’s vivid and energetic, packed with drugs and violence, and utterly baffling in terms of plot. Burroughs didn’t want it to be considered a “novel”, and it’s easy to see why. The writing was fueled by his real-life drug binges, and it reads like a particularly horrific fever dream. One with a lot of bugs and blood.
But besides being extremely challenging, the book is also really goddamn funny. There are some obvious similarities to writers like Leonard Cohen and Charles Bukowski, but there are also passages that conjure Douglas Adams, of all people. Those first scenes with Benway are so downright hilarious and unexpected that I almost forgot who I was reading. And in a few places I actually laughed out loud, which I did not picture myself doing when I first cracked the spine.
Kerouac said that he’d suffered terrible nightmares while compiling and editing the thing, and I’m not at all surprised (I had awful dreams nearly every night while reading it). Some of the most terrifying scenes (the ones deemed “pornographic”) are actually rails against capitol punishment–but that doesn’t make them any easier to swallow, or to forget. Which, I guess, is the point.
At any rate, the book has made a real impression on me. And I’m now thoroughly interested in reading Burroughs’ other big books, “Queer” and “Junkie”. Though for the sake of my sanity, I’ll probably move on to something lighter first.
From now until February 23rd, you can stream the new Shearwater record, “The Golden Archipelago” from NPR’s website. The stream has been up for a couple of days now, and I think I’ve nearly worn out my network card listening to it. If that’s possible.
Personally, I think it’s their best record (and I like Palo Santo a lot, so that’s saying something). It’s sprawling, detailed and gorgeous–and it somehow feels even more ambitious and interesting with every listen. It’s definitely a record that deserves a dedicated listening session, possibly through headphones.
If you’ve never heard Shearwater, or if you just don’t like streaming for some reason, try this MP3 of the track “Castaways” on for size.
If you live in or near Toronto, you should definitely go check them out at Lee’s on April 1st. If you live in Austin, you’ll have two chances to see them in the coming months: at Antone’s during SXSW, and at the Parish on May 7th.
One of the most talked-about films at Fantastic Fest this year was the animated Belgian comedy A Town Called Panic. Missing it bummed me out. But thankfully, it'll be getting a limited theatrical run in early 2010, including screenings at the Alamo beginning on January 7th.
If you're in to black metal, French outfit Blut Aus Nord will blow you away. I have no idea how I went so long without knowing who they were, but I've been spinning them nonstop lately. They're dark and atmospheric, but totally inventive and interesting. Start with the newest record and work backward.
Film junk points out an outlandish claim made by a recent, industry-backed report on low-cost DVD rentals. Besides the fact that the numbers are probably extrapolated way beyond their usefulness… correlation does not equal causation.
Though the film contains almost none of Cohen’s music (he didn’t release his first record until two years after the film was released), it’s a thoroughly interesting and surprisingly intimate portrait of the now 75 year-old artist as a young man. Shot on one of Cohen’s visits to his hometown of Montreal (he was living in Greece at the time), the film follows him to pubs, poetry readings and hotel rooms, where he candidly discusses life, friendship and art. It’s a great way to spend an hour–but if you’re anything like me, it’ll leave you with a strong urge to visit Montreal, and to re-read Beautiful Losers.
If you hate Pitchfork (or if you miss their one-week window), you can also stream Ladies and Gentlemen from the National Film Board of Canada’s site. If you want to own it, you can buy a DVD copy, which apparently contains some extra material.
If you haven’t seen Nobuhiko Obayashi’s severely bonkers 1977 horror/comedy/fantasy masterpiece Hausu, you need to. Immediately.
Just last week, the restored version of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis 
I used to know a guy who had a VHS tape full of sex films from the 1920s. And though they were tame by today’s standards, I remember seeing the tape and saying out loud, “what kind of deviant did you have to be to own this stuff back in the 1920s?”
From now until February 23rd, you can stream the new 
For this week only, 
