reviews


This song is from Patty Griffin’s first album, Living with Ghosts. It has been on my mind a lot, especially as I contemplate my life. If I were an island, the song would not make any sense. The principle would be ridiculous.

Maybe just a mini-review of this song.

It’s Patty and her guitar and her feelings. Rawness and purity and vulnerability. Universality and dissipation in bygones. It hurts, it heals: I like it.

May’s rating scale:

MAY!

May.

meh…

meh?

MESS.

-

We are swimming with the snakes at the bottom of the well
So silent and peaceful in the darkness where we fell
But we are not snakes and what’s more we never will be
And if we stay swimming here forever we will never be free

I heard them ringing the bells in heaven and hell
They got a secret they’re getting ready to tell
It’s falling from the skies, it’s calling from the graves
Open your eyes, boy, I think we are saved
Open your eyes, boy, I think we are saved

Let’s take a walk on the bridge, right over this mess
Don’t need to tell me a thing, baby, we’ve already confessed
And I raised my voice to the air and we were blessed
It’s hard to give, it’s hard to get
But everybody needs a little forgiveness

We are calling for help tonight on a thin phone line
As usual we’re having ourselves one hell of a time
And the planes keep flying right over our heads no matter how loud we shout
“Hey, hey, hey!”
And we keep waving and waving our arms in the air but we’re all tired out

I heard somebody say today’s the day
A big old hurricane, she’s blowing our way
Knocking over the buildings, killing all the lights
Open your eyes, boy, we made it through the night
Open your eyes, boy, we made it through the night

Let’s take a walk on the bridge, right over this mess
Don’t need to tell me a thing, baby, we’ve already confessed
And I raised my voice to the air and we were blessed
It’s hard to give, it’s hard to get
It’s hard to live, baby, but still I think it’s the best bet, hey, yeah
Hard to give, and I’m never going to forget
But everybody needs a little forgiveness
Everybody needs a little forgiveness

Because I’d rather explain how I came across the song in the last post because I’m feeling worlds of nostalgic right now and I let that song lull me to sleep last night/this morning so I’ve always loved classical music as most of you know I refer to Yo-Yo Ma as my uncle but maybe it was in the year 2000 I found out about a violinist named Hilary Hahn and a friend loaned me her first album where she plays solo Bach and it was amazing so then I decided to follow her career because she’s only three years  younger than I and seemed to be a really good role model which is what I was looking for at that point in my life because I was returning to a proper course after having careened into some prodigal years and so there’s that and I respected Hilary’s patience with her career and her seeming deliberateness with choices she was making for her life in addition to her writing online and in her album jacket notes, and after buying her Bach album I found her Beethoven/Bernstein and then the Barber/Meyer CD came out and I read in the jacket notes that a double-bassist/composer named Edgar Meyer commissioned Hilary for that concerto and so I wondered who Edgar Meyer is and I started looking up things about him because after listening to the concerto I was more or less blown away. Double basses are flippin huge. I also found out about a collaborative album (in the course of researching chamber music with Richard Stoltzman or Sabine Meyer, Emmanuel Ax and Yo-Yo Ma because I was also trying to improve my clarinet playing by listening to awesome clarinet music) called Appalachian Journey that involves Mr. Ma, Edgar Meyer, and violinist/fiddler Mark O’Connor, which features vocalists like James Taylor and Alison Krauss and the idea of hybridizing bluegrass and chamber music fascinated me because I really truly appreciate talent no matter where it is and I also adore James Taylor and Alison Krauss because they can both respectively guitar and fiddle as well as stir nostalgia through their voices and this album does not disappoint because nostalgia crept up on me last night and made me look for that Stephen Foster to share with you and it was hard to let myself fall asleep to that song because I enjoyed watching the performance, the communication between the musicians, the eye contact and other cues to let different instruments stand out whenever Alison wasn’t singing, the way Alison looks at the instrumentalists through the final chord and her smile when it ends, and then the perfect stillness between the last note and applause just makes me so happy and so maybe I watched the video three or maybe four times before I lay down and closed my eyes while the song played again and this morning, although my eyes are really dry and I can’t quite remember (much less explain) all of a dream I had where I was crowd-surfing in my high school bleachers in a sports bra and underwear and then there was my marching band self watching very nervously my nearly-naked self hoping that nobody else was watching her, I feel pretty good.

May synopsis: Sometimes I’m in the mood for a slow and subtle period film. It’s all fine and understated until someone wields a sword.

May’s rating scale:

MAY!

May?

meh…

meh?

MESS.

(The following is actually a response I wrote for a class. I haven’t written a review in a while, and I thought this could serve both purposes.)

Howard’s End, a film adaptation of a novel of the same name by E. M. Forster, recounts the relationship of three families in England at the beginning of the 20th century. The Wilcoxes are wealthy and landed capitalists; the Schlegels appear to be bourgeois, and the Basts represent the lower middle class. The movie is marvelously cast, and the acting is exquisite, bringing a quiet power to the movie’s overall understatedness.

The film seems to depict the tension between these three socioeconomic statuses. Henry Wilcox, played by Anthony Hopkins, seems content to interact with the bourgeois sisters, Margaret and Helen Schlegel, who are played by Emma Thompson and Helena Bonham Carter. Henry even marries Margaret. However, his rootedness in tradition emerges when Helen Schelgel becomes pregnant by Leonard Bast, played by Samuel West. First, Helen is not married when she becomes pregnant, and according to tradition, she should be shunned. Secondly, the other responsible party is a man from a lower class than the Wilcoxes. Helen should have not have become involved with him.

In keeping with tradition of double standards in a patriarchal society, Henry Wilcox’s past emerges when he admits to Margaret that he had a mistress. He cannot be bothered with this particular skeleton when Margaret brings up this fact to show how hypocritical Henry is as she asks him to allow Helen to stay his estate, Howard’s End, for one evening. He adamantly refuses. Life has always been a certain way for him, and he refuses to see anything differently.

It isn’t until Henry’s son goes to prison for murdering Leonard Bast (seeming a true hate crime) that he undergoes a change of heart.  He decides to bequeath Howard’s End to the Schlegels, and Helen plans to raise her new son as heir.

Howard’s End illustrates the shift in mentality in early Modernist England, regarding who should own land and how the classes should interact. In certain aspects, the country at that time slowly opened itself up to new and evolving ideas of society.

***

Emma Thompson’s character wore ties. I want to do that.

Harper Blynn opened right before Greg Laswell last night. They are also Greg’s band, and they asked to make sure we didn’t think they were Greg, probably because two other openers preceded them (Dustin Christensen sounded lovely, and the band after him not only had a French horn but had other fun quirkinesses about them), and maybe they felt we were getting restless. But: They really, really rocked the house, and they performed a phenomenal cover of Beyonce’s “Halo.” When they come to New York, go early. See Harper Blynn. Be impressed. They’ll also make you laugh.

I’d never been to the Avalon Theater. The audience space isn’t an open floor, but rather, benches. We sat about six rows from the stage, and everybody stayed sitting down throughout the evening. There were still a lot of seats even by the time Greg got to the stage, which makes me a little sad. I wouldn’t have preferred to be anywhere else last night; apparently, not everyone agreed with me.

My third time seeing Greg didn’t disappoint. He told stories and also made us laugh, and he sang the way someone like Greg Laswell sings. I don’t need to describe it: I couldn’t do it justice anyway. If you’ve heard him, then you know. We stuck around for a little bit after the show to say hi, but we decided to go back to Provo. There will be other times. I just wanted him to play to a packed house.

The setlist:

Around the Bend
That It Moves
Off I Go
(the story about when he sat next to a woman on a plane who asked if he might be someone his daughter would know)
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
High and Low
(a few comments on writing a pop song and hearing himself on the radio)
Take Everything
Highway Patrolman (Bruce Springsteen cover)
What A Day (yes, I thought of you)
Marquee
Sweet Dream
How the Day Sounds

Encore:

Amazing Grace (I almost cried)
Not Out
Lie to Me
Your Ghost (yes, I thought of you)

I might give Glee another chance. Maybe.

Well, let’s see. This show is relatively entertaining. The music is fun – at least from the pilot, and the characters are round-enough caricatures.  Coach Sylvester is certainly quotable. Mr. Schuester is plenty attractive, the students are easily peggable. I can see the story arcs a mile away, and they’re shamelessly and sufficiently inflated so that I don’t have to suspend my disbelief, but instead set it in a box and wear my rose-colored glasses, slightly skewed, which I’m perfectly fine with. I like a little reality in my escapism.

Mostly, I watch for the musical productions, but even last night, I took issue with that.

People, second episode. The dialogue was dirty. Dirty. Durrrrrty. Granted, I overheard a lot of conversations in high school that rivaled last night’s script. I walked away from those. Between classes, I walked the halls and when I heard someone swear, I’d say, “Ouch, my ears!” No lie. I was kind of a dork. Krod. Last night’s episode made me grimace and cringe and turn my head and say “Seriously? Really? Oh, come on.” All I wanted was for those kids on television to channel all the tension into something songy and dancy.

Songy and dancy.

Second episode, second issue: agenda much? Abstinence versus contraception. Not that high school students don’t soapbox, because they do. They do. Not that a girl like Rachel wouldn’t speak out and say girls are just as hormonal as guys and want “it” just as much as guys. And never would I have participated in a celibacy club in high school, because, yeah, Middleburg High School. That never would have flown, though I really wish I could have walked out of one of the band practice room one day, when, say, a certain trumpet player and a certain flute player came in and closed the door while I was practicing my clarinet and started … going at it. They were leaning against the door. I was trapped. I couldn’t watch, so I just kept playing. My own songy and dancy. My fellow band members – the ones smooching right in front of me – now had a soundtrack: the clarinet part to that year’s marching repertoire. So romantic.

Oh, and when the songy and dancy finally happened in last night’s episode? At the school assembly? “Push It” by Salt ‘n’ Pepa? Seriously? Really? Come on! The students’ argument against performing “Freak Out!” was that it was old, outdated, disco. Mr. Schuester explained that the song worked for them back in 1991 because disco resurged temporarily. Thing is, “Push It” dates back at least to my 6th grade year. That means 1987. 19-freaking-87. I was the only one among my viewing party mouthing the words during the production number, but then I stopped because 1) I realized how old I am and 2) the words are dirty, and it occurred to me how easily this song diffused into my head when I was FREAKING 11 years old. The high school students in this show, if it’s set in the present, WEREN’T EVEN BORN when this song came out, so its time argument against disco deconvinces. Just saying, it’s fine that the glee club wants to recruit more members with a sexy song, but at least make the song more current. There are a lot of awesome, skanky-ho songs out there to choose from. Use one of those fine, catchy tunes, dance to it, make me snap my fingers and sing along, like last week with Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Remind me why I started watching the show.

I shouldn’t have forgotten only two episodes in.

Planet B-Boy – fun, yet a little bit long documentary following the international breakdancing championships in Germany. The dancing is unreal, and you feel like you’re in the middle of the action. Competitions like these are often organized chaos, and the filmmaker expects you to keep up, as the film as a whole is pretty rough around the edges. However, he invites you effectively to sympathize with and follow a few individuals. Nice, if not unsubtle, commentary on father-son relationships where career breakdancing is not the cultural norm. Go Korea!

The Watcher in the Woods – definitely a rewatch, 6th or 7th. This movie doesn’t really get less terrifying. That this is a Disney film is shocking enough! (And the movie trailers disclaim it being not your traditional family film.) The surprise effects with sound and light, and the sparse, fitting soundtrack were all well-done. Blue lasers shooting! Mirrors and windows cracking! Blood! Drowning! Tense violin chords! Scary, possessed voices that call out common names backwards! “Nerak.” !!! But, if you watch the alternate endings, this thriller suddenly becomes a comedy. I jumped quite a few times. That is all. I’ll probably watch it again in a couple of years.

Tron – okay, so maybe when I was 8 years old, when plot sometimes fell secondary, this movie was visually interesting and fun. The story, however? 25 years later? The computer programming jargon that brought all the renegade geeks out of the woodwork and into the theaters in the early 80s? Major snoozer. I wonder if Jeff Bridges watches this movie and then asks himself what he was thinking. Although, he seems to be involved in a remake, or a sequel? Redemptive, hopefully.

Dear Zachary – perhaps one of the most powerful documentaries I have ever seen. Here is a review that won’t spoil it. The language is strong and some of the images are grim. This felt like more of a personal endeavor – which, it really was – and the documentarian masterfully crafted it with a whole lot of heart. It sent me through the emotional gamut: laughing and crying and being en/outraged and then crying some more. It’s not an easy film to watch, but it’s worth it if you make it to the end.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind – I saw this for the first time in the theater, in 2004. I remember loving the entire concept of it. The performances are nicely understated; Jim Carrey keeps his cool, at least relatively, in this somewhat frenetic movie. This was not his typical role. Anyway, this film quite creatively encouraged working through kinks and setbacks in relationships. Maybe I related to it a little bit. I cried, but mostly rejoiced.

Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist – I didn’t see this so much as a “movie” as a reminder of one of my adventures around the city, when I first moved here. Cruising in a car with a few of my non-nondrinking friends, looking for gigs, coming from gigs, taking friends home, watching a few of them almost hook up, not getting home until daybreak. It portrays that aspect of city life pretty accurately, and I do adore Michael Cera and think he’s quite talented, even if he is mostly typecast.

The Visitor – There’s this one scene where Walter and Zainab are discussing Tarek’s detention in an illegal immigrant facility in Queens. Tarek is a drummer from Syria, and Zainab is his girlfriend from Senegal. Walter is a bored, washed-out professor in the city who lets the couple live with him in his apartment and becomes their friend. Walter has visited Tarek in Queens and tells Zainab he has hired an immigration lawyer. Zainab interrupts that they cannot afford one, and Walter says it’s okay. I cry at this scene. The acting is exquisite. It’s not so much you can see Walter’s heart and Zainab’s gratitude, but you can sense them. The nuance is stunning. Richard Jenkins really deserved his Oscar nomination for this role.

Princess Mononoke – Not Miyazake’s best work, in my opinion. To be fair, I’ve only seen two of his films, and I liked Spirited Away a lot more. This is an incredibly violent piece of anime, fyi. The friend I watched this with agreed the plot could have been more developed; they could have tied a few elements together better. Maybe the ideas didn’t translate well from the Japanese version. The hate within; forest spirits; general mythology. As a whole, it seemed pretty disjointed. Oh, but you don’t have to second-guess one of the themes of the movie, which is the relationship between man and nature. Save the forests, people! That one they pretty much shove down your throat, all the while neglecting everything else. The movie, for all its 2 hours and 14 minutes, felt incomplete. Maybe they should have cut back on everything else.

I’ve seen a fair amount of movies in the past couple of weeks. That’s safe to say. I’ve wanted to give proper reviews for some of them, but my brain isn’t working properly. Also, I would rather be spending time with my awesome friends than sitting in front of a computer whining to tired ears – yes, you, internet – yet again, all my woe-is-mes and alases and everything deservedly and not-so-deservedly lamentable.

Last Monday, I saw (500) Days of Summer. As I watched the story unfold, I knew the two main characters weren’t going to end up together. I knew it, even if I didn’t already know the ending, which was revealed in the beginning. I’ve seen this situation many times, from friends who’ve coped similarly to Joseph Gordon-Levitt, to friends whose philosophy was/is exactly like Zooey Deschanel’s, to my very own life, where I’ve played both characters, neither very well.

I came across this review of the movie, which exempts me from providing my own. I agree with most of it: it’s very well thought-out, it’s relatable; the character analyses, the story-arc critique are compelling and convincing. It strikes a very nice cardio-cerebral balance. If I hadn’t already seen the movie, after reading this review I would have extracted myself from my wallow-pit apartment to watch it and then reflect and not even wallow in the non-workings-out of some of my romantic relationships. That’s just the way it happens sometimes.

There’s a line, the “sucker punch” I mentioned last time. I’m trying to remember the exact quote. I’ll dig it up and think about it. Something about Zooey not wanting with specifically Joseph the kind of relationship Joseph wanted with Zooey. I just wonder if that line was intended purely as a zinger; it feels a bit incongrous with Zooey’s character up until the end of the movie. Then again, you can’t exactly put parameters on personality - hers, especially; her experience with and perspective on relationships almost … entitles her to make such a statement. I suppose the big “surprise” is that Zooey does end up in a committed, romantic relationship. Just not with Ned. I mean, Joseph.

Shoot.

Just a few more in the past week …

A Man for All Seasons: I could have sworn I blogged about this movie before. I can’t find it, so it must not have happened. That Thomas More, what a man of principle. Stood his ground, defended his faith against the law; became a martyr because of it. The scene where he forgives his executioner before he rests his head on the chopping block? I cried.

Memento: One of my favorite movies. I’ve reviewed it previously, as a way to stall reviewing The Dark Knight. Same director. Similar darkish tones. Different approaches to the storytelling, though. I didn’t cry, but I was all, whoa.

Passengers: Patrick Wilson? Anne Hathaway? Plane crash? Grief counseling? You would think this might be awesome, but IT IS NOT. I mean, I get what it was trying to do, but it unacceptably broke rules regarding dead people and unfinished business. Execution was weak. It’s kind of the writing’s fault. I could have cried for the awfulness, but I have seen far worse movies.

(500) Days of Summer: I liked this, probably because I personally know similar stories to the major relationship in the movie. Sometimes the truth you’ve known all along manages to sucker-punch you. The characters are relatable. It felt a lot like real life. It was funny and melancholy and poignant. I almost cried.

The Dish: Fun. Historical. Hilarious. Particularly enjoyable to watch with certain rocket scientist friends who happen to be extremely fond of Australians. It’s also quite moving. I cried a little.

10 Questions for the Dalai Lama: I suppose this does an adequate job as a documentary. Informative, slanted, but only because it’s inherently political. I liked getting to know Kundun, his manner of speaking, his personality. The interviews were intimate, and the documentarian seemed genuinely interested in the history and culture and non-violence, and he conversed freely, yet respectively with His Holiness. I didn’t cry.

Penelope: Rewatch. I love this movie for two main reasons: 1) The James McAvoy kiss at the end. You know the one. Where Cristina Ricci is at his place and she walks toward his piano, and he grabs her, and awesomely kisses her. I want that kind of a kiss. Now would be nice, actually. It takes my breath away every single time I watch it. And I’ve rewound the scene multiple times, successively, and the thrill just doesn’t fade. That moment brings me to tears. 2)The penultimate song on the soundtrack, the one that isn’t in English? It’s by my favorite Icelandic band at the moment: Sigur Rós. I’ve blogged about another song of theirs before.  This is a video of the song featured in the movie. It’s beautiful. It’s really, really, really, really cool. It brings tears to my eyes. I’ve included the words and translation below. It’s also quite fitting for summer, even though the video is set in the winter. The entire concept deserves an entire entry of its own, but that will have to wait.

Hoppípolla
Brosandi
Hendumst í hringi
Höldumst í hendur
Allur heimurinn óskýr
Nema þú stendurRennblautur
Allur rennvotur
Engin gúmmístígvél
Hlaupandi inn í okkur
Vill springa út úr skelVindurinn
Og útilykt af hárinu þínu
Eg lamdi eins fast og ég get
Með nefinu mínuHoppípolla
I engum stígvélum
Allur rennvotur (rennblautur)
I engum stígvélumOg ég fæ blóðnasir
En ég stend alltaf upp
(Hopelandic)

Og ég fæ blóðnasir
Og ég stend alltaf upp
(Hopelandic)

Jumpin’ Puddles
Smiling
Spinning ’round and ’round
Holding hands
The whole world a blur
But you are standingSoaked
Completely drenched
No rubber boots
Running in us
Want to erupt from a shellWind in
And outdoor smell of your hair
I hit as fast as I could
With my noseHopping into puddles
Completely drenched
Soaked
With no boots onAnd I get nosebleed
But I always get up
(Hopelandic)

And I get nosebleed
But I always get up
(Hopelandic)

Movies I have watched lately:

Ratatouille – Rewatch. Interpersonal relationships. And Inter-rat relationships. And food. In France. This made me hungry and repulsed me at the same time. Because of the rats. I cried.

Pucker Up – Rewatch. I love whistling. It’s so happy! You can even whistle Elliott Smith and feel cheerful afterward. This documentary has a bunch of good whistlers under one roof competing for international whistling champion. So much fun. I clapped, but did not cry.

WALL-E – Rewatch, first time in the theater. Some people didn’t like this. I did. The story is solid. Pixar always delivers for me. The animation is great. I cried.

The Color of Paradise – Iranian film about blindness. Or sight. Depends on how you look at it. Pun intended. I cried.

LauraLittle murder mystery with a few fun twists. Black and white. And shades of grey. Vincent Price was very handsome when he was younger. Also, Gene Tierney is gorgeous. I didn’t cry.

La Vie En RoseLong biopic about Edith Piaf, French singer. Depressing. Marion Cotillard definitely earns her Oscar. I wanted to cry, but I also felt a little sick.

Spirited AwayLovely anime with a captivating story and some truly funny moments. Nice morals to the story, too. A lot of vomiting, though. Didn’t seem like cartoon vomit. And, pigs. Lesson: stay out of fantastical Japanese bath houses. I did not cry.

Who Killed the Electric Car?Informative documentary on the history of electric vehicles and maybe a slightly heavy slant on how petroleum-dependent our world is. Also? It would be awesome if we all plugged in our cars. Like toasters. I did not cry.

84 Charing Cross RoadDelightful film. Anthony Hopkins, Anne Bancroft. I was surprised how I fell in love with it from the very beginning. I cried. Jenny the Librarian has since encouraged me to read the book. I can’t wait.

Tonight’s film:

A Man for All Seasons – this will be a rewatch. I really liked it the first time. Goodness is the main character, and I remember how inspired I felt four or so years ago when I watched this movie. I cried. I’ll probably cry again.

Next in the queue:

Tron – Yes, I’m feeling very nostalgic and old-school nerdy. Doesn’t everybody? Make me want to cry.

The Dish – See comment just above. Also, we recently celebrated the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing. For those of us who think it actually happened. I might cry.

Princess Mononoke – I like Miyazake. According to some, his work is fanciful. I probably won’t cry.

The Straight Story – I’ve been very interested in seeing this for a while. It’s a drama. I’ll probably cry.

I’m posting this here. Again.

Patty is performing at the Wellmont Theater in Montclair, NJ on June 2, as part of Three Girls and Their Buddy. It would be awesome to go, but tickets are sold out. The next closest concert is on May 29 in Atlantic City. I mean, I already saw them on February 20, but … now it seems I’ve my train of thought, but you get the idea. Anyway. 

The very first Patty Griffin album I got was Flaming Red, back in 2003. The album was already five years old at the time. The song on repeat was the penultimate track, “Mary.” The lyrics are simple enough, and they repeated enough I could follow them quite easily, yet they’re deep enough, and the melody is also simple and beautiful enough that the song bears repeating, because I just can’t get enough of this song. “You’re covered in treetops, covered in birds, who can sing a million songs without any words.” I like how the melody is strung out for that line.

Apparently the story of “Mary” is that it’s about Patty’s grandmother. I mean, it depends on who you are and where your sensibilities lie, and while this song means a great deal to Patty personally, what does it mean to you? What kind of power does this song hold? The answer to those questions for me is why ”Mary” is part of my top 10.

Mary
You’re covered in roses, you’re covered in ashes
You’re covered in rain
You’re covered in babies, you’re covered in slashes
You’re covered in wilderness, you’re covered in stains
You cast aside the sheet, you cast aside the shroud
Of another man, who served the world proud
You greet another son, you lose another one
On some sunny day and always stay, Mary

 

 

Jesus says Mother I couldn’t stay another day longer
Flys right by me and leaves a kiss upon her face
While the angels are singin’ his praises in a blaze of glory
Mary stays behind and starts cleaning up the place

Mary she moves behind me
She leaves her fingerprints everywhere
Everytime the snow drifts, everytime the sand shifts
Even when the night lifts, she’s always there

Jesus said Mother I couldn’t stay another day longer
Flys right by me and leaves a kiss upon her face
While the angels are singin’ his praises in a blaze of glory
Mary stays behind and starts cleaning up the place

Mary you’re covered in roses, you’re covered in ruin
you’re covered in secrets
Your’e covered in treetops, you’re covered in birds
who can sing a million songs without any words
You cast aside the sheets, you cast aside the shroud
of another man, who served the world proud
You greet another son, you lose another one
on some sunny day and always stay
Mary, Mary, Mary

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