Progressive Wednesday

The big three, part ii.

As the Mamas and the Papas put it: “Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day.” So, in our continuous quest to help you trust Mondays more, here’s today’s trio o’ art.

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First up: Art 21. This is a PBS serious now in its fourth incarnation highlighting contemporary visual artists. I’ve enjoyed this “documentary” a great deal: I’m a bit of a modern/contemporary art fanatic (the MoMA and the Albright-Knox Art Gallery are my museums of choice). Art 21 Season 4 airs on October 28, November 4, 11, and 18 at 10 PM (EST).

Check out the trailer to get a taste….

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I’ve been thinking back on my years in Columbus, Ohio (nearly a decade), and I can’t think about my time there without waxing nostalgic about beating a confession out of my drums for six different bands. Two of my former outfits — Jack Diesel and Lower Lights Burning — kicked the crap out of “Can’t Hardly Wait,” a tune recorded by the band Paul Westerberg fronted, The Replacements.

The Replacements were notorious for getting intensely drunk before gigs, drunk to the point of falling down on stage, unable to remember lyrics. I wish, wish, wish I’d seen this, but at the same time, thankfully, I lived it: at one of my gigs, our lead singer Jimmy, lover of whiskey and all things beer, literally plummeted into my kit mid-song, sending a crash cymbal flying, slicing open the hand of our bassist. It was, in all seriousness, fantastic. So here’s to Jimmy, and here’s to The Replacements.

Besides all of that, I love the lick that drives the song, and I dig the lyrics ’cause there’s something urgent in the closing chorus that just rings true. So here’s a sober Mr. Westerberg and his backing band playing “Can’t Hardly Wait” on Saturday Night Live. (My apologies for their suits and the bizarre antics of the drummer… just listen, yo.)

(I can’t embed the video here so just click this sentence to give it a spin.)

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Because a little nepotism goes a long way, I thought I’d highlight three photos I adore, all of which were clicked by James Robinson, our very own photography editor.

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To see more of his work, just click this here sentence, baby.

The TGIF Movie Review: A Life Less Ordinary

A Life Less Ordinary, as its title seems to suggest, evades the typical niching done by movie reviewers. This flick is a drama, a black comedy, a crime caper, a romance, and a fantasy. I’m betting I’m leaving a category or two out. It’s all those meshed, molded and morphed into one of my favorite films of the past decade or so. I’ll say from the outset that this movie has its narrative flaws (and maybe a little unnecessary hyperbole), but I’m willing to overlook those for the sake of engaging adventure.

The story goes a little like this…. Robert Lewis — played brilliantly by Ewan McGregor — is a janitor under the employ of Mr. Naville, a stinking rich businessman, who cans Robert and replaces him with a floor-cleaning robot. After getting dumped by his girlfriend shortly thereafter, Robert goes, well, he goes ballistic, grabs a gun, busts into his former boss’s office, and kidnaps his daughter, Celine (played by Cameron Diaz). Meanwhile, God sends two angels, O’Reilly (Holly Hunter) and Jackson (Delroy Lindo), to help Robert and Celine realize that, while chaos has pushed them together, they might actually be a good fit. Hunter and Lindo are fantastic in this flick, serving as hilarious comic foils. Let’s just say the story goes equal parts weird and wonderful from there….

Thankfully, A Life Less Ordinary was written and directed by the dudes who brought us Trainspotting (so just imagine that bizarre and frenetic movie with a bit of hope and zero heroin). In the wrong hands, this could have become sentimental doggerel. Instead, we see, as the plot unfolds, that by bucking conventions A Life Less Ordinary manages to blend the true elements, good and bad, faced by any pairing of two people.

And if all that weren’t enough, this flick offers up a variegated soundtrack that helps put the pieces together. It includes: Beck, The Prodigy, The Cardigans, Bobby Darin, Elvis Presley, Squirrel Nut Zippers, Oasis, and Luscious Jackson, one of my favorite bands from the ’90s. The scene that uses R.E.M.’s “Leave” is worth the price of, well, there’s no admission really since you’re gonna rent this sucker, so it’s worth the price of Blockbuster, maybe some homemade popcorn if you’re so inclined, and a couple Diet Cokes.

Check it….

The big three.

T.S. Eliot, overrated poet that he is, began his overrated, pedantic poem “The Wasteland” this way: “April is the cruelest month, breeding/ Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing/ Memory and desire, stirring/ Dull roots with spring rain.”

Whatever.

April holds its own in my book. While Eliot was wrong about those 30 days between March and May, I’m probably equally right about this: Monday–filled with those first eight or more hours of the work week–is the probably cruelest day. Plus, for crying out loud, could Monday Night Football have found a worse trio of announcers than Tirico, Jaworski, and Kornheiser? Maybe Greta Van Susteren, a pony, and Scott, my AAA customer service agent from the other day, would be a bit less entertaining, but it’s a tough call, and one I’m glad I don’t have to make.

So, anyway, Mondays don’t have to be so bad, and we’re here to help. I was telling someone recently that there are about three things that keep me going, and one of the big three is art, baby, art in all its permutations. Every once and a while, Monday will be a day we showcase a trio of stuff we think will do your trick, lifting spirits, eliciting a laugh, getting your head bobbing up and down to that beautiful beast called rock.

Here goes, yo:

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Up first, Jim Gaffigan, easily one of my favorite comics, doing a five minute bit on (wait for it…) Hot Pockets. Gaffigan is someone you might recognize from commercials or his frequent visits to Letterman and O’Brien, where he’s appeared over two dozen times. These days you can also check him out on the TBS sitcom My Boys.

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And here’s a poem, one that taught me that verse needn’t be cryptic, needn’t only be fascinated with trees and darkness and oblivion, needn’t be restrained as an inmate, or worse, a politician. So here’s William Matthews at some of his best:

A POETRY READING AT WEST POINT

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I read to the entire plebe class,
in two batches. Twice the hall filled
with bodies dressed alike, each toting
a copy of my book. What would my
shrink say, if I had one, about
such a dream, if it were a dream?

Question and answer time.
“Sir,” a cadet yelled from the balcony,
and gave his name and rank, and then,
closing his parentheses, yelled
“Sir” again. “Why do your poems give
me a headache when I try

to understand them?” he asked. “Do
you want that?” I have a gift for
gentle jokes to defuse tension,
but this was not the time to use it.
“I try to write as well as I can
what it feels like to be human,”

I started, picking my way care-
fully, for he and I were, after
all, pained by the same dumb longings.
“I try to say what I don’t know
how to say, but of course I can’t
get much of it down at all.”

By now I was sweating bullets.
“I don’t want my poems to be hard,
unless the truth is, if there is
a truth.” Silence hung in the hall
like a heavy fabric. My own
head ached. “Sir,” he yelled. “Thank you. Sir.”

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Even though New York ain’t no Georgia, there was a parade celebrating peaches in a town nearby the other day, and as my saying goes, “Everybody hates a parade.” I thought I’d close this Monday with an anti-tribute to parades (just watch the video), and so here comes Green Day kicking their Celtic-punk “Minority.” This tune’s off Warnings, an underrated album from the ’00s (not to be confused with the ’80s, the decade that music forgot).

The TGIF Movie Review: The Fountain

The Fountain– ” a film directed by Darren Aronofsky, which stars Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz– ”can best be described this way:

• In Act I, I had no idea what the hell was going on but couldn't stop watching because everything I saw was either as interesting as a Salvador Dali painting or compelling as a child's voice.
• In Act II, I had a clearer idea of the present-tense reality of the flick, but while I was able to “figure out– what was real to the characters and what seemed imagined by the characters (which was a surprise in and of itself), I didn't feel let down because of this “discovery.–
• In Act III, the elements of Act I and Act II weave together like DNA, and this lifted me into a kind of exhilarated dizziness as the boundaries between fiction and nonfiction blended together until I realized, more clearly than ever before, how our imaginations can help us successfully mold our realities.

Let me also say this, prefacing it by first saying that what I'm about to tell you isn't something I go out of my way looking for when picking a flick: this movie contains one of the sexiest and most heart-pounding gorgeous love scenes ever captured on celluloid.

This is a film you need to trust, so do yourself a favor: if you know someone who's a “movie talker– (i.e. they can't keep their lips zipped during cinematic art) steer clear of that person, even if he or she is your one and only, so you an actually enjoy, or rather, experience, this exquisite movie. This is the kind of film that should earn people National Endowment for the Arts grants.

Once you start watching The Fountain, you don't want to take your eyes off of it. So here's my advice: don't.

See why for yourself– ¦.

The TGIF Movie Review: Moulin Rouge!

Okay, okay, okay, okay, and okay. I know, I know. Every week since we revved up Progressive Wednesday like the fair-minded and well-meaning Harley that it is, I’ve reviewed a flick that recently made its way from the silver screen to DVD, and this week, if it wasn’t already clear from the title, I’m cheating a bit, but for a bunch o’ good reasons.

First off, Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge! is one of only five movies that I’ve ever seen in the theater twice (since you asked, the others are The Shawshank Redemption, Rushmore, I [Heart] Huckabees, and Lost in Translation). Second off, Moulin Rouge! is one of the best musical movies ever made, and it is, without a doubt, one of the most daring films to ever pass this man’s eyes and ears. Third off, I just watched it again a few days ago so the sucker’s pretty fresh in my noggin.

So, for those of you not in the know, Moulin Rouge! tells the story of Christian (played by Ewan McGregor) a fresh-faced writer who lands in Paris and joins a group of Bohemian artists trying to raise money for a musical of their own. Partially because of a case of mistaken identity, he ends up pining for then falling in love with Satine (played by Nicole Kidman), a courtesan at the Mouline Rouge club. A rich Duke fights for Satine’s love using brute force, his wealth, and the promise of fame. Satine, it turns out, is dying from TB, but keeps her illness a secret from Christian, who she ends up loving in return. Conflicts rise and fall from there, but the film essentially culminates with the production of the musical. I won’t lie: the plot isn’t filled with many surprises. But plot isn’t really want people look for in musicals. The surprises here come in the form of pyrotechnic editing reminiscent of music videos, and the use contemporary songs in a film set in 1899.

To pinpoint highlights in this movie is to pick out your favorite Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in a sack of those delicious suckers. But select I will. Some of my fave moments include the only original song in the flick, “Come What May.” Much like in traditional musicals, this big “number” closes out the first act, and it’s reprized at the end of the second act. It manages to capture the big-heartedness expected of musicals, and yet steers clear of the sentimentality often expected and accepted in this genre of art.

Other keister-kicking moments include: the unexpected and inventive use of Elton John’s “Your Song;” a hilarious scene where the Bohemians pitch a musical called “Spectacular Spectacular;” and our introduction to the Moulin Rouge cabaret, which fuses together the songs “Lady Marmalade” and Nirvana’s big-amped alternative anthem, “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

But the creme de le creme of this movie is, without a doubt, what’s dubbed the “Elephant Love Medley,” a melding of thirteen 20th century rock and pop songs mixed together seamlessly and precisely. The result is the salvation of some not-so-great numbers, and the reinvention of some contemporary classics. What carries this medley, though, are the delicate vocals of Kidman and the lift-your-heart pipes on McGregor. Tunes in the medley include:

• “I Was Made for Lovin’ You” by KISS
• “Pride (in the Name of Love)” by U2
• “Love is Like Oxygen” by Sweet
• “All You Need is Love” by The Beatles
• “Don’t Leave Me This Way” by Thelma Houston
• “One More Night” by Phil Collins
• “Love is a Many-Splendored Thing” by Frank Sinatra
• “Lover’s Game” by Chris Isaak
• “Silly Love Songs” by Paul McCartney and Wings
• “I Will Always Love You” by Dolly Parton (made waaaaaaaaaay too famous by Whitney Houston)
• “Up Where We Belong” by Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes
• “Your Song” by Elton John
• “Heroes” by David Bowie

The kicker for me, though, is the last on the list: the use of “Ziggy Stardust’s” masterful “Heroes.” And I ain’t afraid to say that that moment in the medley gives this man exhilarated shivers.

For my money, this flick is as much about the place where realism and romance meet as it is about the creation of art (characters create a musical within this musical), and maybe more than that, it’s a flick about falling in love–gloriously, effortlessly, ultimately–with music. Get ready to rock….
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I keep talkin’ this tune up to those around me, so I’m not sure I could live with myself come Saturday morning if I didn’t give you a taste of “Heroes” performed live by Mr. Bowie. I mean, how can you go wrong with these lyrics: “I, I can remember/ Standing by the wall/ And the guns shot above our heads/ And we kissed/ As though nothing could fall/ And the shame was on the other side/ Oh, we can beat them, for ever and ever/ Then we could be heroes/ Just for one day.” You can’t go wrong. You can’t.

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And I’d be seriously remiss if I didn’t include the “Elephant Love Medley.”
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The TGIF Movie Review: Fur

Okay, I’ve got to start by saying this about Fur, an imaginative portrait of the life of photographer Dianne Arbus: this is one of the weirdest movies, maybe the weirdest, that I’ve ever seen. For that reason alone, I have to recommend it this week.

Fur, as I’ve already mentioned is capital-”L” Loosely about Dianne Arbus (played by Nicole Kidman), a 50s and 60s portrait photographer attracted by the oddballs and outcasts in our sometimes cruel culture. So, the plot. Well, it goes something like this…. Dianne is stuck in a fairly humdrum life as her husband’s photography assistant, setting up backgrounds for commercial picture-clicking. She also has two children. She’s also bored out of her freaking gourd. Then, a new neighbor (played by Robert Downey, Jr.) moves into the apartment directly above hers. She’s instantly interested in knowing more about this person. Why? Because he wears a mask. After a series of almost-meeting-each-other moments, they meet, and she learns that he hides because he suffers from hypertrichosis. This is a genetic condition sometimes called “werewolf syndrome” wherein the afflicted grow hair over their entire body. How rare is this? 1 in 340 million have it. Her interest in him, and his interest in her, only grows and grows as the movie progresses. I think I’ll leave it there for fear of giving any of this film’s intense bizarreness away.

What is this film really about? Banal, useless, cliche lives. People wanting out of their skins. Dreamscapes and escapes. Stifling home lives. Fears desired. What do we learn? Well, I was walked away with this: we’re all reflections in funhouse mirrors looking for other reflections as awkward and lovely as us.

So, see it. It’ll be worth it just to be able to tell your friends….

New tunes on our block.

It seemed like it was time, once again, to share some music with you, dear readers, tunes we hope reflect a kind of progressivism simply by being quality pieces of art.

First up, give a gander — with your eyes and ears, and maybe even your head and heart — to the avant-rock band Explosions in the Sky performing “The Birth and Death of the Day.” You might recall, faithful followers of Progressive Wednesday that you are, that we mentioned this outfit last Friday, because Explosions in the Sky wrote the score for the flick Friday Night Lights. Here, as is the case with much of their music, you’ll witness an instrumental post-rock band using repetition that calls to mind the prose of Gertrude Stein and the Cubist paintings of the early 20th century. It’s probably going to be something new for most of you out there, and all we ask, as is the case most days, is to give this piece of progressivism a chance.

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Batting second for today’s musical post: Now It’s Overhead, and music video for their catchy, guitar-energized alt-rock tune “Walls.” This is one of the songs on heavy rotation on my iTunes. I saw Now It’s Overhead perform within the past year at the Mohawk Place in downtown Buffalo, and since then I’ve been hooked, often returning to their killer album Dark Light Daybreak.

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Now we’ve reached number trois, Okkervil River’s “For Real” off their heralded album Black Sheep Boy. This band came highly recommended by a good friend of Progressive Wednesday. So I checked out this outfit last October at Soundlab in Buffalo, and it was a show I won’t soon forget. Okkervil River is band with honesty and energy, with lyrics meant to be read and music dedicated to advancing the vocals. There’s a passion here that can’t be ignored — it’s infectious. And I can’t seem to get these gorgeous words out of my brain for the life of me: “And if you want it to be real, come over for a night: we can really, really climb. And those blue bridge lights might really burn most bright while we watch that dark lake rise.”