Cash and Currency
Alone with the Man in Black

“My name is Wyclef, my freestyle is homicide
I shot a man in Reno, like Johnny Cash, just to watch him die
Flee to sicily, get a call from my agency, said
They want me to do the Johnny Cash show, you gotta be kiddin’ me
Rick Rubin pick me up in a Bentley, not a El Dorado
Dressed in black, lookin’ like Zorro, Johnny Cash, chewin’ tobacco
Country’s legend fusin’ with the hop-hop
Mom said don’t play with guns, so Johnny Cash, here, you hold my glock.”
–“Delia’s Gone”, Wyclef Jean

• Intermission: 10 out of 10. Funny, aggressive, violent, surprising, mocking, original, well acted…this was the perfect movie to end the festival with. I thought it was going to be a Colin Farrell vehicle, but he’s barely recognizable in this. There’re about a dozen story lines that all tie together and cross over, about crime and marriage and loneliness and violence and greed…there’s even a high-speed chase set to Clannad. Awesome, awesome, awesome. “Fuckin’ delish”, even.

• Young Adam: 5 out of 10. Copious amounts of nudity, water, coal, sex and the colour gray. Welcome to Scotland. Not a terrible movie, but two days from now I won’t remember anything but the custard. And it’s better that you don’t ask what I’m talking about.
• Underworld: 8 out of 10. Cold. Late. Loud. Cooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool.

• Dogville: 8 out of 10. Lars von Trier’s become one of the big names at Film Festivals worldwide the last few years with Breaking The Waves and Dancer In The Dark, so there was a big crowd on hand at the Elgin Theatre today for his newest, Dogville. Of course, a good portion of the crowd was there to see Nicole Kidman (and, possibly, Chloe Sevigny). There was enough celebrity worship to make us squirm a bit. The film was 3 hours long, and von Trier’s really taken the Dogme 95 Manifesto to heart; no music, no visual effects, no nothing…not even real sets. The entire movie was shot on a single stage, with only tape outlines marking where walls and buildings (and plants, and animals) would be. There were a few props…chairs, desks, tables, beds…but nothing that didn’t figure into the movie in some way. It was dangerously close to being incredibly pretentious, but got away with it because of the sincerity of the writing and acting. This won’t come to many theatres, and it won’t be for everyone, but it was bold and different, and you can’t fault anyone who at least tries something like that.
• Casa de los Babys: 6 out of 10. John Sayles, as always, makes a story out of nothing. However, unlike Lone Star or Sunshine State, this one just wasn’t all that interesting. Good performances by Lili Taylor, who’s hilarious, and Marcia Gay Harden, who does sociopath very well, but other than that, unremarkable. Maybe it’s just because Dogville had gotten me used to a long movie, but this film seemed abbreviated, like I needed to know more about what happened to each person. He introduced all these characters, got them about half way into the audience’s minds and then rolled the credits. Too bad.
• Stander: 7 out of 10. By this point we’re tired, propelled only by iced coffee drinks and kickass spots in line. We were wary of this film, since we knew nothing about it (we picked it as a backup just because there was no other real choice in that time slot), but it worked out quite well. It was a story about a South African cop turned bank robber, a story I’d never heard before. It started off being rather cheesy, became very entertaining, degraded into a bit of a chase movie for a while, and began to drag near the end, but it did what it set out to do: told the story of André Stander, if a bit heavy on the glamour of it all. Nothing new or groundbreaking here, just a good story well told. We stay for Q & A, then leave, dog tired. 7 movies in about 53 hours is a lot to handle. Now if you’ll pardon me, I’m for bed.

• The Fog Of War: 9 out of 10. Errol Morris, one of the great documentary film makers, made a film featuring conversations with Robert McNamara. McNamara was Secretary of Defense under JFK and Lyndon Johnson for 7 years, head of the world bank for more than a decade, and president of Ford Motors for about as long as a cup of coffee. As Piers Handling said when introducing Morris, he doesn’t make judgments about his subjects, instead putting everything out there and letting the audience decide. It was fascinating to see this man who was instrumental in the fire-bombings of Tokyo, in the Vietnam war, in the Cuban missile crisis and the cold war in general, to see him explain these decisions and directions not with remorse, but with the questioning nature that wisdom and distance has brought him. He criticizes Curtis LeMay and praises him (or, rather, parts of his nature) in the same breath. He cries when he talks about JFK. He defends Lyndon Johnson furiously, even though audio tapes show that he disagreed with Johnson over Vietnam and tried hard to keep them out (and later withdraw). He refuses to talk about some topics, but then speaks of them anyway. He talks about the use of power and how it should have been applied differently in Vietnam, about the dangers of empire, when you suddenly realize he’s really talking about the current US administration. And I’m blown away by how similar his early footage is to how Donald Rumsfeld acts at the podium now, as if Rumsfeld modelled himself after McNamara; I found myself wondering if, in 35 years, we’ll see Rumsfeld in a documentary.
• Alien: 10 out of 10, obviously. It’s the quintessential sci-fi thriller/horror/tension movie, so there was no question of that. What made it extra-special cool was that Sir Ridley Scott sat 20 feet away from us and watched it with us. Yaphet Kotto was there too, and he’s huge…I had no idea how huge the man was. People still jumped during the scary parts, even though everyone’s seen it god knows how many times. And it was weird to watch Bilbo spew white fluid and attack Sigourney Weaver sans head. Anyway, Ridley Scott spoke before the movie started about the making of it, and both he and Yaphet Kotto answered questions after. We only stayed for a few, as they were either a) specific to the craft of directing, or b) seriously sci-fi/film geek questions (e.g., “there was a real mother/martyr theme throughout the 4 movies…can you speak to that?”). But it was just super-cool to watch a classic film in a cramped theatre with the be-knighted director sitting a few rows away. I love the film festival.

• I Love Your Work: 8 out of 10. Adam Goldberg’s second movie, with Giovanni Ribisi playing a character who seemed to be modelled on Goldberg himself. Kind of a twisting story, and a couple of times I felt smart because I was sure I’d figured out what was really happening, but it didn’t actually go that way, so it kept me guessing and admiring the shots and cuts that got increasingly manic along with the main character. Most of the cast showed up: Goldberg, Ribisi, Franka Potente, Christina Ricci (who’s h-o-t-t hot), etc. They held a Q & A afterward; some guy in the audience asked a really bizarre, long-winded, non-sensical question that had everyone in the audience laughing at him. After, we headed to movie #2.
• The Event: 6 out of 10. I still haven’t seen Thom Fitzgerald’s first movie, The Hanging Garden, or his second, Beefcake, but they won him acclaim in Canada. This was a bigger budget movie for him, and included a good cast — Sarah Polley, Parker Posie, Olympia Dukakis, Don McKellar and Jane Leeves (who, unfortunately, never made me think of anyone but Daphne) — most of whom showed up and answered questions after the film. I thought it was a good idea done clumsily. Parker Posie and Sarah Polley who are usually infallible, in my opinion, seemed wooden, or appeared to be reaching. Olympia Dukakis is always solid, and Don McKellar’s a very underrated actor, so I was expecting more. So it was good, but didn’t live up to how great the cast could’ve been. Interesting note, too: this was the first movie filmed in Manhattan after the terrorist attacks, and it works its way into the movie in subtle shades, and I was glad for that. It would’ve been easy to make a ham-handed attempt to draw the stories together, and I was relieved that they didn’t. Why use one tragedy to batter another out of our heads?

We just finished the time-honoured tradition of standing in line for two hours to wait for our tickets. Turns out that, even though we were box #8 and box #30 was selected, we got all the movies we asked for (4 #1 choices and 6 #2 choices). Here’s what we’re seeing:

• I Love Your Work
• The Event
• The Fog Of War
• Alien (Ridley Scott will actually be there to talk about the remastered version of the film!)
• Dogville
• Casa De Los Babys
• Stander
• Young Adam
• Underworld
• Intermission

There were a bunch that we didn’t get, like Lost In Translation, Elephant, The Human Stain, 21 Grams, Coffee & Cigarettes, Wonderland and The Agronomist, but most of those will come to theatres anyway. I’m really looking forward to I Love Your Work and The Fog Of War. I’ll post reviews here, so have an eye. Posts’ll start on the 5th.

I’ve wanted to see them for years. We thought about it in Vegas, we forgot about it in Chicago, and we didn’t have time for it in New York. When the Complex Tour came to Toronto, I slapped my money down on the barrelhead and said “Gimme Blue Man Group tickets”. Last night they played the Sears Theatre at the Air Canada Centre with special guests Tracy Bonham and VenusHum.

First, before I really get started, let me just get this out of the way so it doesn’t give you the impression that I disliked the show: there were annoyances in the crowd. Flyerman (who my be familiar to those of you living in Toronto) was in attendance, and he’d periodically fire up his flashing jacket until security got hold of him. Most annoying, though, was the father and son behind us. The kid hadn’t learned to speak at anything less than a high-pitched yell (even though he was 6; I learned his age when he screamed it into his father’s cell phone), even when the theatre was dead quiet. The father, in addition to singing loudly and badly throughout, just encouraged the kid. The hellion had a special talent, something I can only guess his father had been training him to do, possibly for military use, possibly to appear as a stupid human trick on Letterman in the future. His special talent was to emit the most horrifying, piercing, hair-raising scream I’ve ever heard. I’m talking Banshee-from-the-X-men, Buffy-in-the-Hush-episode, Ned-Flanders-from-the-Simpsons quality screaming here. This kid had no gonads, I’m sure of it. And he screamed constantly, to the point where I got a bad headache. The lady sitting next to me actually ducked for cover whenever he let fly with another shriek. If I ever see the wee fucker on the street, I’ll pre-emptive strike his ass. But enough about that.

I was really happy that Tracy Bonham was opening since I’ve been a fan for 7 or 8 years now. She came on at 8:00, carrying only a fiddle, and launched into “Black Dog”. Never before have I heard Led Zeppelin done only with voice and fiddle, but there it was…and it was awesome. After that she brought out two band members, and they played a nice little set of four or five songs before blowing my mind completely. One guy grabbed his guitar, the other took out a set of spoons, Tracy picked up her fiddle and they proceeded to play “50 Ft. Queenie” by PJ Harvey. I think there were only about 10 of us in the crowd who even knew what the song was. Jaysus. I would’ve paid $30 just to see Tracy Bonham’s 30-minute set.

Recipe for VenusHum: One part Bjork, one part Enya, one part Esthero and one part Underworld. Mix well. Pour down sink. Pour shot of whiskey instead and call for Tracy Bonham to come back out.

After the unfortunate VenusHum incident, there was a 20-minute break. We were kept entertained by a pair of feisty LED readouts until the lights went down, and then the show started for real. This tour was different than most Blue Man Group performances in that it’s a true concert, with a large backing band and light show. The Blue Men themselves play percussion (beating on moveable pipes, hitting giant kettle drums and exploded pianos with maces, whipping antenna-like sticks to create different tones, whipping a tube to keep a quater-note beat, etc.) and interact with the crowd, the band plays and sings and so on, and the other component is the instruction coming from the giant video screen (e.g., “Standard concert movement #1: the head bob. Ready, go.”; “Standard concert movement #2: the one-armed fist pump. Ready, go.”; “Standard concert movement #5: the big entrance.”, etc.), which was often very funny. Basically, it was a rock concert making fun of the rock concert genre, so I loved it.

The music itself wasn’t spectacular, except for the drumming. The covers of “White Rabbit” and the Donna Summer song “I Feel Love”, featuring Tracy Bonham and VenusHum respectively, were good, but the real highlight was when they broke out Baba O’Riley during the encore (“Standard concert movement #26: the fake ending.”). The Blue Men had these big multi-pipe harnesses so they could play the intro, and the crowd went nuts. Tracy sang, and played the fiddle part at the end. The whole outfit rocked us into a standing ovation; we stayed there for the final song, which encouraged many standard concert movements.

I wanna be a Blue Man.

Jimmy Swaggart once declared music to be “the new pornography”. I immediately declared Jimmy Swaggart to be a flaming idiot, but Carl Newman’s a little more understanding than that, so he just swiped the subtext of the soundbite and formed his side-project band.

And so, last night Mike and I polished off our beers and walked down to The Phoenix to catch the result, the New Pornographers. Through the gay village and past the crack park, to Grandmother’s house we went, with visions of Neko Case dancing in our heads. We arrived in time to catch The Organ; I thought they sounded like The Cure done badly, and I fucking hate The Cure. I’m sure there were some shoegazer girls in the crowd digging on it, but they put me right to sleep.

At 11:00 (punctual…I like it) the New Pornographers took the stage and proceeded to sound the alarm on my little Organ-inspired nap. They rocked. I always like a new CD more after I hear it in concert. Even “Testament to Youth in Verse”, a song I normally have no time for, seemed to work live, especially the little wanky singalong at the end. It amazed me to really think about how complex Carl Newman’s songs are…even in semi-radio-friendly songs like “Letter From An Occupant” or “All For Swinging You Around”, the song shifts themes three or four times. Neko Case…what can I say? She’s incredibly talented (though you don’t see much of that talent in this setting), she’s got the most distinctive voice this side of Tom Waits, she’s hotter than all get out and she really makes this band. Carl Newman is the brains, but Neko’s the pretty face (figuratively speaking)…the flash, the part that grabs the eye and sets the ear to itching. Blaine Thurier, on the other hand, is hilarious. He hasn’t a shred of musical talent (only being admitted to the band ’cause he’s Carl Newman’s friend…he’s a filmmaker for chrissakes!), he’s about as tall as my cat and the way he dances suggests he’s on strings. Honestly, I think they put him there to occasionally take everyone’s eyes off of Neko.

They played about 20 songs in total, pretty much all of Electric Version and most of Mass Romantic, and threw in a cover (which, sadly, I didn’t recognize, nor am I able to remember the words this morning, but given their history it was probably The Kinks) to close the encore. I think they actually came back out for another encore as we were leaving, but I left happy. They’d played every song I wanted to hear and more. Good concert. Well done. And so, in closing, Neko Neko Neko Neko Neko Neko Neko. Neko Neko. Neko Neko Neko Neko. Neko, everybody. Neko.

so, walking up yonge street on friday, i see none other than geddy lee strolling past, chatting on a cell phone. a boyhood idol once removed. if it’d been neil peart, i’d have begun giggling like a nervous sorority girl. i’d probably also have soiled myself.