Today on the train

Death Watch at the Vancity, May 27th

There's not much online yet about Bertrand Tavernier's Death Watch; the one interview with the director I find is entirely too Glasgow-centric - understandable, given the site, but still somewhat frustrating, as there is much more to this film than where it was shot! As an added incentive, then, to those coming out on May 27th to see the film at the Vancity Theatre, I'm going to prepare a handout with portions of a yet-to-be-published interview I did with Tavernier a couple of weeks ago. He became quite enthusiastic, and briefly he and I bonded in a sort of fannish delight for the work of Harvey Keitel, Romy Schneider, and Max von Sydow in the movie (with apologies to Harry Dean Stanton, who plays a cynical, sleazy TV executive: we didn't really spend that much time on you, but it's a fine performance, really!). Of course, Tavernier MADE the film, so he isn't just a fan, but it's nice to discover he loves some of the same things that I do about it. We also talked at some length about the troubling prescience of the film; he imagines a future very much like our own, not one of steel and glass highrises (as per dystopian SF norms)  but of general dilapidation and decay, where people are all too dependent on computers, tune in to grotesquely exploitive "reality TV" (something the filmmakers had no actual model for, back in 1980) and riots and demonstrations are commonplace. Teachers in particular who are feeling uncomfortable about government plans to increase the use of computers in schools will be particularly shocked, or validated, or something to see one protester with a sign reading "keep human teachers" (which apparently, as Tavernier tells me, is an area of concern in present-day France, as well as in Vancouver). We also talked at some length about the score, by Antoine Duhamel - see the IMDB trivia section for the film for some fun revelations about that - and the screenplay, co-written by Tavernier with esteemed (and now departed) screenwriter David Rayfiel, who also co-wrote the terrific Three Days of the Condor. Apparently both Max von Sydow and Harvey Keitel describe Death Watch as a favourite film of theirs from the period; it's very, very easy to believe, since they're given terrific roles. I highly urge anyone interested in cinema who HASN'T seen Death Watch to be present on the 27th, since screenings of this film are a rare occurrence indeed.

Note: the film is not presently available on DVD in North America (though there's a later release slated for later this summer); all previous versions to come out on VHS and Laserdisc in North America have been substantially altered from Tavernier's vision of the film. We'll be playing the full 128 minute European cut of the movie - actually clocking in at 124 minutes because of PAL speedup, since we're projecting from a French DVD. (Tom Charity tried really hard to find a film print, but the avenues he explored proved either impossible or impractical, and probably would have meant playing the shortened 117 minute version, to boot). One wee caveat: the price of seeing the film at its proper length is that there will be non-removable French subtitles at the bottom of the screen, but y'all put up with Japanese subtitles for years on El Topo and The Holy Mountain, so it shouldn't be too much of a challenge to just ignore'em...

By the way, at no extra cost, The Creaking Planks will do a short set before the film, and there'll be a short subject - a surveillance-themed video by The Rebel Spell... Come early, we'll be beginning at 7pm!

Do the Sponge!

Those intending to see the Dwarves this weekend should check out Blag Dahlia's contribution to the Spongebob Squarepants "yellow" album...

Recognize the Dwarves, Slut!

Had a very enjoyable conversation with Blag Dahlia of The Dwarves for this week's Georgia Straight; the band, celebrating its 25th anniversary, is having an ultra-cheap show at Fortune Sound Club this (long weekend) Sunday. I last saw the Dwarves back around 1990 at the Cruel Elephant on Granville Street, on what I guess must have been the Blood Guts & Pussy tour, where they played for a wholly satisfying fifteen minutes, knocked some shit over, and made a big impression on me (tho' Blag tells me that now they actually get paid real money to perform, sets are a regular length). Even back then, HeWhoCannotBeNamed was naked, 'cept for boots and a bag over his head (not a wrestling mask - I'm told he's played with many a head cover, including a flour sack, which fits my memory better). Impressed though I was, The Dwarves are one of those bands (like Motorhead, up til a couple of years ago) with whom I've been content to own only a very small sliver of their early work, which I've played frequently and consistently enjoyed without ever once venturing into their later catalogue. In fact, until recently, my Dwarves collection has consisted of exactly one album: Blood Guts & Pussy. I own it on vinyl and CD, and have never felt the need to buy another Dwarves album: it's simply so good and has such fond memories attached to it that it hasn't been necessary to explore beyond its boundaries. It's almost like I've been keeping the Dwarves in reserve until I might really need them, like I've been saving them for a rainy day.

Since I've been experiencing a rainy day in my life for the last three years, how GLAD I am to discover, now that I get off my ass, just how good a band the Dwarves have remained. They're not even *really* a punk band, in my understanding - this is HIGHLY energetic pop music that partakes of punk theatre and transgression, and draws on all manner of other musical influences - surf, garage, hip-hop, you name it (tho' hip hop isn't really present on the new album much - we gather it was controversial on their last one). The Dwarves Are Born Again is a very fun record indeed - with the high point for me being "I Masturbate Me," more on which you will find in the Straight article. Anyone looking for something to do on Sunday night who has any fondness for energetic, outlandish rock and roll should roll into Chinatown for this gig - I suspect it's going to be pretty spectacular. Recognize the Dwarves, slut!

Persecution Dream

In the dream, I'm working as a writer at a newspaper. I'm not sure that the paper was ever named in the dream - but I don't think it matters, since it was based on a patchwork of workplaces and circumstances in my life. My main editor was a female, for instance, which is not the case at the paper where I actually do sometimes write (where everything appears to be going fine); and the staff room was modelled on the Japanese high school where I once taught. Anyhow, I had pushed my luck too far, been too arrogant, too superior, presumed too much on people's tolerances, and suddenly everyone decided they hated me; I was fired, and then - as part of a rarely employed ritual - beaten, crucified, pissed on, and mocked en masse by my colleagues in an orgiastic, hate-filled office party. The dream didn't end there - I was trying to put myself back together and find a way to fight back, in part because they planned to withhold my next check, and I needed the money; but I woke up before I could dream my way 'round to getting it.

Hell of a thing to wake up to on an unemployed Sunday morning.

Bertrand Tavernier's Death Watch at the Vancity Theatre

It's hard for me to keep a list of "favourite films" these days, but for the longest time, when I had such a list, one of the titles on it was Death Watch, Bertrand Tavernier's prescient, seldom-screened 1980 SF film starring Harvey Keitel as a man with television cameras implanted in his eyes, hired to surreptitiously film a proud dying woman (Romy Schneider) for a reality TV show - a concept for which there was no factual basis back in 1980. Harry Dean Stanton and Max von Sydow star; the film is shot in an unnamed European city (actually Glasgow), was co-written in close collaboration (adapting a DG Compton novel) by Tavernier and esteemed screenwriter David Rayfiel (who also co-wrote The Three Days of the Condor, another favourite of mine), and has a very moving classical score by Antoine Duhamel. I just spoke to director Tavernier this morning; I'm not entirely sure what will be done with that interview as yet, but it was apropos of a May 27th screening of the film at the Vancity Theatre which I will be hosting, which seems worth mentioning before we get too close to the day. Cinephiles out there are urged to attend - this is a thought-provoking, surprisingly poetic film with terrific performances from the entire cast (von Sydow is particularly delightful - M. Tavernier told me this morning that along with The Three Days of the Condor, this is one of von Sydow's favourite of his own English-language film roles, which pleases me immensely to hear). The film will be preceded by a musical performance by The Creaking Planks and a short subject, a video by The Rebel Spell (all at no added cost!). It is true that Shout! Factory will be releasing the film on DVD and Blu-Ray this summer, but as yet, runtimes listed for that release correspond to a shortened American version of the film, not Tavernier's "director's cut," which is what I'll be screening, from a French DVD; this may simply be an error on the part of sites like Amazon - I'm in touch with Shout! Factory, awaiting a response. More will probably follow here, but be assured - Death Watch is a thought-provoking, moving, memorable film, one with many supporters and admirers (it means a great deal to Keitel, as well). Screening one night only; please do spread the word! 

Preoccupied

Going to be away from the blog for a bit, have some other projects cooking...

Hansons play the Cobalt follow up

A point of clarity, following up a previous post: I actually have nothing against the Hanson Brothers or the new owners of The Cobalt (where the band plays tomorrow night). Having thought about this quite a bit, while I suspect the attempt to cultivate a punk scene there again may be misguided (from a business point of view), divisive (from the POV of the punk scene) and/or in poor taste, all things considered (considering recent history), I don't in fact have any strong objection to attempts to make live music happen at The Cobalt again; just because various people (including myself) feel they can't go back there ever again, given the history, doesn't mean that EVERYONE should feel that way, or that people who DON'T feel that way are doing something bad. Why should some new arrival to Vancouver, or band not previously connected to the scene there, or non-punk businessperson, or any other otherwise disinterested third party feel obliged to boycott the space? Unless it was part of a blanket campaign to boycott venues owned by the same family (which as far as I know includes at least The Astoria), it's not like staying out of the building will change anything or help anyone. Seems the only real reasons I can locate in myself for not wanting to go back involve my personal sentimental attachment to the space as it was, and my respect for and loyalty to wendythirteen; but I can't generalize these feelings into a principle that others should follow. If enough people feel comfortable re-entering that space to make gigs a success there, so be it...! I got a little touchy, having been called a "pretentious prick" by someone involved in the gig, in the comments section on that previous post, but I am here officially shrugging and walking away. Do what thou wilt, folks, do what thou wilt - best of luck at the show tomorrow, sincerely.  

Petunia interview online!

Al Mader (the Minimalist Jug Band) and Petunia, onstage at the former incarnation of Slickity Jim's; photo by Femke van Delft, not to be reused without permission

Fans of Petunia (or rockabilly, roots music, western swing, or just plain MUSIC) should check out this interview I did with him about his most recent LP, with photos by Bev Davies, Femke van Delft, and Lee Shoal of the Creaking Planks! Petunia and Al (above) are currently on a Canadian tour - wish'em well!

The Hunger Games: belated mini-review

Plans are afoot in my life that will distract from serious blogging for awhile, but I just wanted to mention that I rather loved The Hunger Games, which I finally caught up with yesterday, and urge adult filmgoers who may be lumping it in with Twilight and other teen-'tween fare and thus staying away to check it out while it is still playing theatrically. It is no great masterpiece of cinema, but will be of interest to anyone who cares about imaginative film fare; further, it is: 

a) Not so derivative of Battle Royale that it deserves to be accused of plagiarism. I was concerned about this initially but was pleased to see that The Hunger Games stands on its own merits, though Battle Royale IS an obvious precursor. (Anyone who enjoyed The Hunger Games should check Battle Royale out, btw). 

b) Probably going to be the most widely-seen film of 2012 to deal explicitly with issues of class, race, and social control, though it displaces these onto a future society

c) An intelligent "dystopian game" film, belonging to a long-established genre that uses an SF scenario involving players who "break the rules" of a contest in an unjust society to get at problems in our own society. The lineage extends back through Battle Royale to The Running Man, Rollerball, and Death Race 2000. Like these films, it contains an indictment of the way media is used as a tool of social control, and challenges concepts of celebrity and glamour. Going further than these films, it also shows how romantic relationships and hopes can be manipulated as an aspect of  media/ social control; the film actually raises questions about "the politics of love," particularly where media depictions of romance are concerned. If I had a 13 year old daughter I would be DELIGHTED if she were interested in this film. Hell, I would drag her to it.

d) Highly competent and occasionally quite moving, in that classic Hollywood way - you can't but be drawn by its manipulations, obvious as some of them may be.

e) Nicely production-designed; it's a vision of the future I haven't seen before, and uses its design elements as part of the thrust of its queries (unlike, say, Michael Bay's The Island, which uses design for its own sake)

f) Reasonably respectful of the intelligence of its audience, for a mainstream commercial film; it takes awhile to enter the "world" that it crafts, is comfortable raising questions that it doesn't get around to answering right away, which is a pleasing thing. Adults will not find this a "childish" film, whatever its target market. 

g) Quite well cast; it has a terrific central performance by Jennifer Lawrence, the young actress from Winter's Bone, a much admired independent film of a couple of years ago, and has roles for both Donald Sutherland (who needs never really act again - he can just turn up and be Donald Sutherland) and Woody Harrelson (who, while a likeable fellow, I'm sure, has never REALLY seemed much of an actor, but here steps far enough outside his usual range of characterizations that I was briefly unsure, when he first appeared onscreen, if it was indeed him - a reaction I cannot recall having to any other performance he has given. Later in the film, his Woodyisms manifest, but I still think this is one of his better roles). 

That's about as ambitious a review as I have in me at the moment, but I hope it might sway a couple of you to check out this film. The 3:50 screening at the Fifth Avenue yesterday only had about five other people in the audience, so it probably won't be sticking around much longer. If you're a parent of a teen, go with them, and be on hand to talk about it with them after its over. I think you'll be very pleased, if you do. 

"Around 100 Hits a Day"

Someone overheard me talking about traffic on my blog at the Robots on Fire concert and thought I was discussing my LSD consumption. Ha!

DJ Voodoo Funk at the Anza!

Be appraised: New York-based DJ and Afrobeat archivist Frank Gossner (AKA DJ Voodoo Funk) will return to the Anza Club this Saturday to spin heavy African funk vinyl - like this. Alex Varty briefly talks with him here, more info here, Facebook link here.

Robots on Fire for free, Wednesday May 2nd

Fun stuff: Robots on Fire have pieced together a trailer for their upcoming free concert on Wednesday from an apocalyptic Kinji Fukasaku film that I have yet to see (Fukasaku made several very rowdy yakuza films in the 1970's, and attained another kind of notoriety for an apparently Godawful SF film called The Green Slime, but today's cinemagoers are more familiar with his final completed feature, Battle Royale. Those wishing to expand their awareness of Fukasaku are directed to the first film in the Yakuza Papers series, usually given the ungainly English title of Battles Without Honor and Humanity; it's truly essential Japanese film fare. If Martin Scorsese had been Japanese, he would have been Kinji Fukasaku). Sax-bot Darren Williams also directs your attention to this video, which has no particular connection to Robots on Fire at all, except spiritually (or philosophically, depending on how much of an atheist you are. Cinematically, meanwhile, it kind of evokes Zabriskie Point crossed with Jackass). There will also be a Sorrow and the Pity show at a venue called the Toast Collective on Friday. Apparently I was sent a Facebook event invite for that awhile back, but thems what know me know that I have very limited use of that site - I resent how it has monopolized internet activity. Remember when people actually sent each other emails?

The Monkees Head tonight!

No, seriously: the Monkees' Head is one of the great psychedelic films of the 1960's. Not all of it ages well but the stuff that works is delirious and delightful. Plus Timothy Carey is in it! The film plays the Vancity Theatre tonight; seats are only $6. Seriously, folks, if you want to have a fun night out tonight, go see Head!

Musical freakshow dream

In the dream, I am visiting friends on Vancouver Island (not any that actually exist). They have young children, who play no particular role in the early part of the dream, which I don't really remember anyhow. When I leave for the ferry - being given a ride, non-driver that I (actually) am - they become important, however; the kids ride along, and they explain that they are going to stop at a Chapters (I think) and perform a concert with their new band. I'm expecting childish pop, but once they set up, it turns out that the "band" consists of a female dwarf in her 40's, a grotesquely obese man who appears to be in his late 50's, and the male child (who is maybe nine years old), and they're making a grotesque noisy racket with a vaguely tribal beat, a truly fucked-up music that rivals noise legends Smegma for weirdness. They perform three "songs" before being heckled down by people in the back, and then a discussion/ decompression ensues, including a possible "fourth member" of the band, a "normal-looking" guy in his 30's who apparently works as a bacteriologist. I leap to the band's defence, excitedly arguing on behalf of their obvious desire to break boundaries as to what a band looks like; the bacteriologist is somewhat disappointed that I don't focus as much on their music, so I blurt a defense of that, too, getting all het up in my enthusiasm for their reconceptualizing of what music can be. The people in back continue to heckle and express their disdain for what they'd just seen; they don't buy my arguments in the slightest. I ask them by a show of hands how many of them are Lady Gaga fans - as if such conventional tastes might explain their rejection of the band we've just seen - but only one girl timidly puts her hand up, so it explains nothing.

The band and I reconvene to some large room elsewhere with many people in it - their friends; its their headquarters, perhaps - and I start trying to explain who I am to them, that I've interviewed... who have I interviewed that they'll know? Jello Biafra? They don't really know who he is. Lemmy! I'll tell them I interviewed Lemmy! ...and they recognize that and are impressed; I convince them that I can be useful to them, and start hatching plans to write about them, to tell the world. Do they have a CD yet?

The elements that contribute to this dream are all drawn from my recent life. I've been enthusiastically catching up with the Dwarves, for one, who play the Fortune Sound Club on May 20th; I have only ever felt the need to own Blood, Guts and Pussy previously - the tour I saw them on back in the 1990's - and am delighted to discover that their other albums are also very strong and creative. They, of course, use a dwarf (Bobby Faust) on many of their album covers. Also of bearing on the bands' appearance, I'd been reading about Diane Arbus and her "freak" photos before going to bed last night. As for the journalistic elements, I've been re-activating myself as a music writer, now that classes are finished. I'd introduced myself to members of the band Damn the Eyes at a gig in Hammond the other night (since I'd written about them in the Straight awhile back). As with the band in my dream, I asked a couple of bands that played that night if they had CDs (the Jen Huangs did). There were also kids present at that gig, hence the kids in the dream; plus I've been thinking about someone I'd been seeing in Victoria, who wants to have kids. The bacteriologist may have something to do with the scientists in the films of David Cronenberg, which I have recently been revisiting. Besides having elements drawn almost entirely from identifiable sources, what's remarkable about the dream is how completely and accurately it depicts ME; while often in dreams, I am merely a cipher for the main character, with the details of my life being obscured, here, there was no question that the guy who I was in the dream was completely and utterly myself. It was odd to be so much myself in a dream, in fact. Is it odd that it was odd?

A great Ernest Borgnine moment

Oh, my. I had not seen this - it's quite delightful. Ernest Borgnine on the secret to his longevity.

Cards with Ma

The Wicker Tree: new on DVD and Blu-Ray

EDITED to include mini-review, now that I've seen the film:

Jeez... I may complain about the selection of DVDs at the Zellers in Maple Ridge, but they taught me something today: they had in stock The Wicker Tree, a follow up to the cult classic The Wicker Man written and directed by the same soul as made the original, Robin Hardy. Even Christopher Lee has a bit part! Before today, I was completely unaware that this film existed. Since I wasn't prepared to invest $19.99 in it, sight unseen, I found another means of viewing it, with the understanding (between myself and the universe, but I generally keep such promises) that if it proved to be a film I'd be glad to own, I would do the right thing and buy it.

There are, indeed, very interesting things about The Wicker Tree. It at first comes across as being about the sexual contradictions that proliferate in America - which, depending on your angle, can be seen as a chastity-obsessed, purity-ring-wearing conservative backwater, or a den of sin and overt sensuality; the film makes the inspired choice of embodying both sides of the contradiction in one character, Beth Boothby (Brittania Nicol), a former pop starlet - best known for her hit "Trailer Trash Love"  - turned Born Again evangelical Christian. Beth and her fiance (a "Cowboy for Christ") travel to Scotland for missionary work, where they encounter, of course, randy Pagans with beliefs of their own, who put them to the test. Its a very interesting theme to table - "sex in Christian America" versus "sex in neoPagan Europe," say - and got me excited to see how the film would proceed with its explorations, and where it might arrive. The second most inspired aspect of the film lies in the use of song - particularly a hymn about how there is "wonder-working power in the precious blood of the lamb," which is very interesting to hear through Pagan ears. One very memorable scene (mild spoiler follows) involves the villagers' reworking of this song, for their May Day festival, as a prelude to a rather bloodthirsty (but too briefly glimpsed) revel; its a minute that more than justifies the time the movie asks you to invest to get there. Finally, on the plus side, The Wicker Tree  has some lovely landscapes and sets, and is photographed with an aesthetic that, while contemporary and fresh-feeling, does bring to mind the original, pleasantly enough; given the time between the films, the differences in contexts of reception, and so forth, Hardy should be applauded for this achievement and encouraged to continue. Fans of The Wicker Man will find this follow-up well worth watching, whatever its flaws.

It does, however, HAVE flaws, and those not concerned with spoilers may wish to read further on them. I'm not sure, for one, that The Wicker Tree needed a backstory involving a nuclear accident and infertility: where such, er, elaborate elaborations are not needed to tell a story effectively, they should best be left out, that they not distract from the main point. There also comes a time in the film where it seems to drop altogether its interest in American sexual contradiction as viewed through the eyes of European Pagans; the tabled theme vanishes into thin air as the May Day celebrations get underway and our young Americans find themselves in jeopardy, which alas does kick in with a bit of a feeling of formula. In fact, I'm unclear whether the film ultimately makes any statement at all about America, beyond the odd passing jab... or if indeed it makes any statement about anything at all, since, unlike the original, it doesn't tell a particularly elegant story, and there are bits in it that seem to clutter up the landscape unnecessarily, contributing in no way to the main thrust of the film and confusing attempts to read it. A case in point would be a  moment that seems deliberately designed to evoke the Hostel franchise, which I was not at all expecting and did not really need (since I don't think the parallels between the films - both involve Americans running into trouble in Europe - cast any very interesting light on the film). Last and least, I found myself thinking at times that, as much as it was true to the spirit of the original, The Wicker Tree was a little too "soft" for the contemporary cinematic landscape; showing a male character undressing, for instance, Hardy retreats to a rear view, and is consistently tasteful and inoffensive in places where he probably could have gone much further. The original film pushed some boundaries as to what could be done onscreen - this film should have done the same, which probably would have meant going briefly hardcore now and then. It would have been much more satisfying and disturbing, as would keeping more closely to the theme of sex. The ending of the film is simply not orgiastic enough. This applies to the film's violence, too: I mean, if you're going to (spoiler!) flay someone, these days it pretty much has to be done onscreen if you want to make an impact in the world of horror (cf. the French film Martyrs).

Final verdict: though I am glad to have seen the film, I must make my apologies to Zellers, to Robin Hardy, and so forth: no way will I be shelling out $20 for The Wicker Tree. If I find it used for $3 someday, MAYBE I'll buy it. Still, readers are advised to cautiously check this film out, by whatever means are available these days that suit your conscience (I would recommending renting the DVD, but that's gotten very hard to do). It IS worth a watch. It is NOT essential viewing, but definitely - as others have said - it's better than that ridiculous remake...

Tonight in Maple Ridge

Funny how it goes: the two most interesting events happening in Maple Ridge this month are doubtlessly tonight's Adstock fundraiser, at 7pm at the Hammond United Church Hall, featuring the Jen Huangs and several other bands; and the Horrorshow midnight movies screening of George A. Romero's original Night of the Living Dead (actually beginning at 11:30, and taking place at the Hollywood 3 Cinemas in Pitt Meadows). I'll be at both; what's odd to me is that I'll doubtlessly be the only person over 30 at either event who is not a parent of one of the people involved. The average age of attendees will likely be around 19, though I might bump that up a year or two by sheer virtue of my advanced years. I'll likely feel alternately like a loser ("he couldn't get a date") or a creep ("he must be here to fuck one of us"), but so be it - it beats another night alone in the apartment. 

Vote for The Creaking Planks

Everyone's favourite "jug band of the damned," the Creaking Planks, are hoping to do some cross-country train travellin' (and concomitant entertainin') this year. Vote for them to make it a reality!