I understand that the Closing Ceremony of the Olympics is hardly the most dramatic event of the Games, but to cut away before it's over in order to show Jerry Seinfeld's "The Marriage Ref?" Really?
UPDATE: I'm glad to see that NBC is getting bashed for this. I mean, good grief - is there not one person who works for the network who gets how contemptuous the coverage of these Olympics was to sports fans? Bob? Al? Anyone?
Whatever. Just more reasons not to watch Jay Leno and Jerry Seinfeld next week.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Ron and David: Thoughts on "Beautiful Mind" and "Eastern Promises"
By sheer coincidence, the last two flicks we've seen on Netflix have been "A Beautiful Mind," directed by Ron Howard, and "Eastern Promises," directed by David Cronenberg. It got me to thinking that there may not be two directors working today who are further apart from each other on the artistic spectrum as Howard and Cronenberg.
Thinking about Howard and Cronenberg also reminded me of the famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) Manny Farber essay "White Elephant Art vs. Termite Art," in which he defined the former as "an expensive hunk of well-regulated area" and the latter as "termite-like, it feels its way through walls of particularization, with no sign that the artist has any object in mind other than eating away the immediate boundaries of his art, and turning these boundaries into conditions of the next achievement." You can probably guess which term I think applies to Ron Howard and which applies to David Cronenberg.
Which is not intended to be a hit on Ron Howard. A more likable guy probably doesn't exist in Hollywood, and he would have a place in my own personal pantheon for his role in "American Graffiti" alone. But thinking about his films, there do seem to be an awful lot of them which fall into the category of "expensive hunk of well-regulated area." One of those, "Apollo 13," is unquestionably a great film, and one of my all-time favorites. (Another, "Night Shift," is also one of my all-time favorites, but you have to wonder whether Howard would venture into such risky territory today). Many of the rest are good to very good movies, but perhaps not as good as they could have, or should have, been. I'd put "A Beautiful Mind" in that category. It has moments of brilliance, most involving Russell Crowe (although I'll never be able to watch a role like this again without thinking of Robert Downey Jr.'s acting advice in "Tropic Thunder") and Jennifer Connelly. But it's also shamelessly manipulative - and that's OK if you can pull it off, but I'm not sure "Beautiful Mind" always pulls it off. The Ed Harris parts didn't bother me so much, but the Paul Bettany parts were borderline irritating. All in all, a good movie, but maybe not one that I'd call Best Picture quality.
"Eastern Promises" is another animal entirely. You don't see David Cronenberg movies get nominated for Best Picture, and I'd hazard a guess that somewhere between 2/3 and 3/4 of your average crowd for "Beautiful Mind" would run screaming from the room during the first scene of "Eastern Promises." I'm not sure whether the things that Cronenberg is after in his films represent bigger or smaller game than the things that Howard tries to achieve. Where Howard tries to produce a shinier apple, Cronenberg is coring it out, exposing the raw meat underneath. There's no right or wrong here, it's just a different approach.
For a Cronenberg film, I thought the story of "Eastern Promises" was fairly old-fashioned. Like "A History of Violence," the Cronenberg film which preceded it, "Promises" includes scenes of stunning, shocking violence that are brilliantly staged. But where "Violence" used those scenes to underscore an entirely original approach to a story about family relationships and values, "Promises" is just another variation - albeit a strong one - on gangster movies that we've seen many times in the past.
The performances are uniformly outstanding - Armin Mueller-Stahl plays the Russian patriarch as if he were Don Corleone without the redeeming qualities, and Naomi Watts takes what is a fairly sketchy role and gives it depth and feeling. But the unquestioned star is Viggo Mortensen, who turns in an utterly chilling portrayal of a man struggling to maintain the last vestiges of his soul in an environment where such things are trivial and often punished. I thought Mortensen was brilliant in "Violence," but in "Promises" he takes his acting to a whole new level.
Two very different films, two very different directors.
Thinking about Howard and Cronenberg also reminded me of the famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) Manny Farber essay "White Elephant Art vs. Termite Art," in which he defined the former as "an expensive hunk of well-regulated area" and the latter as "termite-like, it feels its way through walls of particularization, with no sign that the artist has any object in mind other than eating away the immediate boundaries of his art, and turning these boundaries into conditions of the next achievement." You can probably guess which term I think applies to Ron Howard and which applies to David Cronenberg.
Which is not intended to be a hit on Ron Howard. A more likable guy probably doesn't exist in Hollywood, and he would have a place in my own personal pantheon for his role in "American Graffiti" alone. But thinking about his films, there do seem to be an awful lot of them which fall into the category of "expensive hunk of well-regulated area." One of those, "Apollo 13," is unquestionably a great film, and one of my all-time favorites. (Another, "Night Shift," is also one of my all-time favorites, but you have to wonder whether Howard would venture into such risky territory today). Many of the rest are good to very good movies, but perhaps not as good as they could have, or should have, been. I'd put "A Beautiful Mind" in that category. It has moments of brilliance, most involving Russell Crowe (although I'll never be able to watch a role like this again without thinking of Robert Downey Jr.'s acting advice in "Tropic Thunder") and Jennifer Connelly. But it's also shamelessly manipulative - and that's OK if you can pull it off, but I'm not sure "Beautiful Mind" always pulls it off. The Ed Harris parts didn't bother me so much, but the Paul Bettany parts were borderline irritating. All in all, a good movie, but maybe not one that I'd call Best Picture quality.
"Eastern Promises" is another animal entirely. You don't see David Cronenberg movies get nominated for Best Picture, and I'd hazard a guess that somewhere between 2/3 and 3/4 of your average crowd for "Beautiful Mind" would run screaming from the room during the first scene of "Eastern Promises." I'm not sure whether the things that Cronenberg is after in his films represent bigger or smaller game than the things that Howard tries to achieve. Where Howard tries to produce a shinier apple, Cronenberg is coring it out, exposing the raw meat underneath. There's no right or wrong here, it's just a different approach.
For a Cronenberg film, I thought the story of "Eastern Promises" was fairly old-fashioned. Like "A History of Violence," the Cronenberg film which preceded it, "Promises" includes scenes of stunning, shocking violence that are brilliantly staged. But where "Violence" used those scenes to underscore an entirely original approach to a story about family relationships and values, "Promises" is just another variation - albeit a strong one - on gangster movies that we've seen many times in the past.
The performances are uniformly outstanding - Armin Mueller-Stahl plays the Russian patriarch as if he were Don Corleone without the redeeming qualities, and Naomi Watts takes what is a fairly sketchy role and gives it depth and feeling. But the unquestioned star is Viggo Mortensen, who turns in an utterly chilling portrayal of a man struggling to maintain the last vestiges of his soul in an environment where such things are trivial and often punished. I thought Mortensen was brilliant in "Violence," but in "Promises" he takes his acting to a whole new level.
Two very different films, two very different directors.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
"The Only Thing That's Real"
"We were in the studio, getting ready to work — and I popped it in, by the end I was really on the verge of tears. I’m working with Zach de la Rocha, and I told him to take a look. At the end of it, there was just dead silence. There was, like, this moist clearing of our throats and then, "Uh, OK, let’s get some coffee."
- Trent Reznor
"Holding onto that chuckle..."
A terrific piece on Cash appeared in last Sunday's Los Angeles Times, by the great critic Ann Powers.
Quoting:
Holding onto that chuckle was a key part of the remarkable feat Cash and Rubin accomplished over the ensuing decade. Loving the work, Cash recorded all kinds of songs -- funny ones, familiar ones, some he'd recorded before and others he never would have heard if not for his hip younger friends. The material matters; it was a blessing that Rubin kept Cash away from the soft rock of contemporary Nashville, and occasionally, the hipster connection worked magic. But the greater value of the American Recordings emerges through Cash and Rubin's unflinching attention to the details of his slowly failing instrument.
Many older singers just sound bad because they're still trying to present themselves as totally masterful. Cash didn't do that. He let in the cracks and the shortness of breath and the flatness. That's when the chuckle comes in, often silent but always pushing against the inherent drama of the songs and the moment. "Oh, well," you can almost hear Cash say, "I'm still singing."
Read the whole thing. You won't be sorry.
Quoting:
Holding onto that chuckle was a key part of the remarkable feat Cash and Rubin accomplished over the ensuing decade. Loving the work, Cash recorded all kinds of songs -- funny ones, familiar ones, some he'd recorded before and others he never would have heard if not for his hip younger friends. The material matters; it was a blessing that Rubin kept Cash away from the soft rock of contemporary Nashville, and occasionally, the hipster connection worked magic. But the greater value of the American Recordings emerges through Cash and Rubin's unflinching attention to the details of his slowly failing instrument.
Many older singers just sound bad because they're still trying to present themselves as totally masterful. Cash didn't do that. He let in the cracks and the shortness of breath and the flatness. That's when the chuckle comes in, often silent but always pushing against the inherent drama of the songs and the moment. "Oh, well," you can almost hear Cash say, "I'm still singing."
Read the whole thing. You won't be sorry.
Dylan on Cash
"Johnny was and is the North Star; you could guide your ship by him. The greatest of the greats - then and now."
- Bob Dylan
- Bob Dylan
Songs
"I love songs about horses, railroads, land, Judgment Day, family, hard times, whiskey, courtship, marriage, adultery, separation, murder, war, prison, rambling, damnation, home, salvation, death, pride, humor, piety, rebellion, patriotism, larceny, determination, tragedy, rowdiness, heartbreak and love. And Mother. And God."
- Johnny Cash
- Johnny Cash
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Man In Black
Friday would have been Johnny Cash's 78th birthday, so just brace yourself for a healthy dollop of the man in black over the next 24 hours.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Ain't No Grave, Indeed
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There’s no doubt about it, at least not in my mind – the collaboration between Johnny Cash and Rick Rubin is one of the great stories in the history of American music. Off the top of my head, I really can’t think of a parallel – a great artist in the twilight of his career, pretty much given up on by his record company, coupled with a producer who tells him “just play what you want, and we’ll see what happens.” Which leads to a 10-year partnership that results in four great albums, one great box set, a surge in popularity among all age groups, and, oh yeah – some of the best work of his long and storied career. As far as I know, it had never happened before, and we can only hope that someday it will happen again.With the release of “American VI: Ain’t No Grave,” we can now add to that list, two worthy, posthumously released albums.
It’s not really fair to compare “Ain’t No Grave” to the albums that Cash and Rubin released before Johnny’s death in 2003. The box set, “Unearthed,” made clear that for every 14-16 songs released on each of the “American” albums, there were twice as many that, for one reason or another, didn’t quite make the cut. So we really have no way of knowing whether the songs on “Ain’t No Grave” would have made the cut or not. And after all, the album is barely 30 minutes long.
But in the end, none of that really matters. What matters is the chance, this one last time, to hear Johnny Cash singing songs that we haven’t heard him sing before – whether it’s an old traditional, an old Kris Kristofferson tune, a famous Hawaiian ballad, or the last original song that he wrote. We should feel lucky to have the opportunity, even as we feel sad that this will be the last one.
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