constantines postscript

Walking around the Lower East Side today, I caught sight of a few posters for the new Martin Scorsese/Rolling Stones film Shine A Light (obligatory David Edelstein review link) touting the IMAX version. And as cool as that might be, I could only imagine — given their album of the same name — what a Constantines IMAX film might be like. I’m seeing a sixty-foot-high Dallas Wehrle, bass in the air, and it’s amazing.

a quintet of monday night links while I listen to politically charged folk music

One: Hot damn, Cloak and Dagger. I definitely remember friends of mine watching this in my youth. That said, all I can actually recall about the film itself are two things: Dabney Coleman and spies. Which are, admittedly, two pretty nifty things.

Two: Reihan Salam on the idea of a “music tax”. Interestingly, the comments section heads into some discussion of Tim Quirk’s EMP presentation from last year, which does seem relevant here.

Three: Paper Cuts on Norman Rush’s Mating.

Four: I should probably mention somewhere that I am deeply, deeply excited for Criterion’s upcoming DVD of Mishima: A Life In Four Chapters. And, hey, I’ll be able to hold my theoretical double bill of it and I’m Not There. (I’m totally serious about this, by the way.)

Five: Jessica Suarez reviews and interviews Islands. Arm’s Way is, I’d say, growing on me since my initial listen. And, hey, it’s got their song about the Yeti…

odds and ends, 2 am

One: I will admit, the trailer for the new Indiana Jones film made me kinda giddy. And I’m not a dude who uses “giddy” lightly.

Two: Last summer, I saw The King of Kong and enjoyed it. Watching it at the time, the conflict at the center of the film seemed like the sort of thing that, were it not in a documentary, I wouldn’t find credible.

Joke’s on me, evidently — these three pieces make a pretty convincing case that said central conflict was

I’m left with the urge to order some hot sauce.

Three: High Places released a singles compilation through eMusic. Sweet.

Four: Speaking of eMusic, I’m now writing audiobook reviews for them. First up, John Burnham Schwartz’s The Commoner.

plays/films

Folks with rarefied taste in drama have recommended the work of Martin McDonagh to me multiple times. I am still kicking myself for having missed both The Lieutenant of Inishmore and The Pillowman during their New York runs. With that in mind, I was excited to hear about his debut feature, In Bruges, which at the very least has a crackerjack trailer.

That said, the mixed (but not in a good way) advance word from both David Edelstein and Armond White has me, perhaps, more leery than I was a week ago.

moviegoing: ‘the silence before bach’

Earlier this afternoon, I went to Film Forum to see The Silence Before Bach. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, besides knowing the subject of the film and that it fell on the non-narrative side of things. (As Daphne pointed out on the way outside, it’s interesting that this week finds it occupying the same theater as I’m Not There — one more and they could score the non-narrative musical meditation trifecta.) The first experimental feature I ever saw was Chris Marker’s Sans Soleil, and while my sleep-deprived 18-year-old mind may have made it out to be a more disconcerting experience than it actually was, a part of me still expects non-narrative films to be deeply strange and unsettling. And this wasn’t, really; a few characters (including Bach*) recur throughout the film , interspersed with performances and self-contained sequences.

Worth reading on the film: reviews from Manohla Dargis, Cullen Gallagher, and J. Hoberman, and a Jonathan Rosenbaum essay on director Pere Portabella.

What struck me about the film in particular was how Portabella configured things: often, there would be a long interval before the central moment of any given scene. Unsurprisingly, sound is key here, and at times the sound, even of the ambient variety, seems more central than the image. Throughout, a subtle case is made both for the roots of Bach’s music in the sounds of life and for that music’s continued presence in daily life, whether actively or otherwise.

*-there’s a nice wink to biopic conventions in one of the sequences in which Bach appears as a character. (“That’s the new cantor.” “I hope he’s good!”)

strange thoughts

As I was walking towards the subway this evening listening to Seam’s Are You Driving Me Crazy?, I realized that I am, very likely, older now than the songwriters behind most of the albums I consider seminal were when they made those albums.

That made me feel slightly old.

Later, waiting for the bus, I felt a surge of panic when I mused that the “Bo Knows” advertising campaign had debuted twenty years ago. Thankfully, Wikipedia clarified things there. (Nineteen. Only nineteen years ago. Whew.)

moviegoing: there will be blood

Honestly, they kinda had me with the font.

Over on Slate’s Movie Club, Scott Foundas volleys up a comparison with August: Osage County. It’s worth reading, though preferably after you’ve seen one or both (it’ll spoil, if nothing else, a few significant beats of the plots of each). I rambled a little last month about how the audience for the latter reacted in a way I’ve never really seen on Broadway before. Similarly, the audience at tonight’s showing (a packed house at the Union Square 14), gasped audibly at much of the film’s early, wordless sequence, and a few points thereafter.

Also, between this film and Punch-Drunk Love, P.T. Anderson utilizes sound as a much more essential element of the film than almost any of his contemporaries. (I suspect that it’s no coincidence that both films share sound designer Christpher Scarabosio).

Links to some critical reactions are below. Highly recommended; I suspect I’ll be back to see it again before too long, especially as I’d like to sort out the nature of one specific relationship within the film…

David Edelstein | Matt Zoller Seitz | Timothy Noah | Richard Schickel | Dana Stevens | Armond White | Reihan Salam | Roger Ebert | Mahnola Dargis | Michael Koresky

[Update, 1:06 a.m.: I am currently overtaken by a need to watch this film again, right now.]

maybe the guy who snuck in wouldn’t have thrown his bottle at the screen had he paid $11.75.

Have just returned from seeing, finally, No Country For Old Men in Times Square. (That was preceded by Anatomy of a Murder at Film Forum.) Was an odd crowd with which to see it: some kids who’d snuck in after seeing something else, and were a bit annoyed by what they got; some folks there for obvious reasons; and the couple sitting to my left, who promptly made out once the film had ended.

Still, I liked it. Though I also dug the novel on which it’s based, and one hews pretty closely to the other…