INHERENT VICE: The Film Babble Blog Review

Opening today at an indie art house near me:

INHERENT VICE

(Dir. Paul Thomas Anderson, 2014)

In a recent interview on Marc Maron’s WTF podcast, writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson claimed he wasn’t a stoner, that he really didn’t get stoned. 

Well, INHERENT VICE, Anderson’s adaptation of Thomas Pynchon’s 2009 comic-noir novel of the same name, coulda fooled me.

It’s such a rambling, sprawling, shaggy dog story with a lotta ins, a lotta outs, a lotta what-have-yous as The Dude would say, all filtered through hazy clouds of pot smoke that it feels like it could’ve only been made by a filmmaker who’s stoned out of his mind.

Of course, my mention of The Dude doesn’t come from out of the blue. The film’s depiction of a countercultural underdog unraveling connections throughout the seedy underworld of Los Angeles heavily recalls the Coen brothers’ THE BIG LEBOWSKI (1998), as well as Robert Altman’s THE LONG GOODBYE (1973).

Pynchon’s novel seemed to have those references embedded in it as well, and Anderson puts forth a largely faithful take on the original source material, right down to the exact wording of large chunks of the book’s dialogue.

In his second film for Anderson following 2012’s THE MASTER, Joaquin Phoenix plays pothead protagonist Larry “Doc” Sportello, a long-haired, unkempt sideburns-sporting private investigator living in Gordita Beach, California in 1970. Doc’s ex-girlfriend Shasta (the pretty and appropriately flighty Katherine Waterson) shows up after an absence of over a year, and asks him for his help concerning her current boyfriend, a real estate mogul named Mickey Wolfman (Eric Roberts).

Mickey’s wife (Serena Scott Thomas) and her lover, are working on what Shasta calls “a creepy little scheme” to have her rich husband committed to a mental institution so that they can make off with his fortune.

From there, Phoenix’s Doc gets hired by The Wire’s Michael Kenneth Williams as a member of the “Black Guerilla Family” gang to find a white supremacist, named Glenn Charlock (Christopher Allen Nelson), who happens to be one of Mickey’s bodyguards.

After following a lead that ends up with our extremely high hero getting knocked unconscious at a Massage parlor named Chick Planet, Doc is questioned by his long-time cop nemesis, Christian “Bigfoot” Bjornsen (Josh Brolin, going big and succeeding), a thick-necked, flat-topped, hippie-hating hardass member of the LAPD.

Luckily, Benicio Del Toro as slick marine lawyer Sauncho Smilax swoops in to get Doc released, but, unluckily, Shasta and Mickey have completely disappeared into thin air.

As if things weren’t complicated enough, Doc takes on another case that’s possibly related, involving the death of surf-rock saxophonist Coy Harlingen (a whispering Owen Wilson) as his widow Hope (Jena Malone) thinks he’s still alive.

From there, Doc visits with his special lady friend, Deputy D.A. Penny Kimball, played by Phoenix’s WALK THE LINE co-star Reese Witherspoon, gets interrogated by FBI agents (Parenthood’s Sam Jaeger and Veep’s Timothy Simons), and, most amusingly, does cocaine with Martin Short as an coked-up dentist. Doc’s trail keeps leading to some sinister entity called “Golden Fang,” which is either a mysterious ship for running drugs, an Indo-Chinese heroin cartel, and/or a syndicate of dentists. I’m still not sure which.

Making her film debut, indie singer/songwriter Joanna Newsom serve as the film’s onscreen narrator Sortilège, a minor character in the book but here the custodian to descriptions of Doc’s inner thoughts, somewhat surreally I might add.

Which means that one minute, Doc is driving with Sortilège riding shotgun telling us about “the long, sad history of LA land use,” and the next minute she’s gone. The freshness of Newsom's delivery of Pynchon's prose enhances the dry sections of the film considerably.

The fading of the sunny idealistic ‘60s into the scary, smacked out ‘70s is conveyed strikingly through Robert Elswit’s always stunning cinematography (Elswit has shot 6 of Anderson’s 7 movies), which gives both dark, dank interiors and sun-bleached exteriors a great burnt-out look, and the score by Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood mixed with well chosen songs by Neil Young, Can, Lex Baxter, and the Chuck Jackson Motown classic “Any Day Now,” perfectly evokes the era as well.

Unfortunately INHERENT VICE is no masterpiece. It’s frustratingly low energy at times with scenes that linger on and on. Many critics are calling it “incoherent vice” (there’s a joke I bet will be made at the Oscars) for understandable reasons, but while I sometimes stared at the screen and thought that it was a meandering mess, I was more often struck by the brilliance of many of its moments.

I’ve seen it twice now, and I enjoyed and “got it” a lot more the second time. Phoenix's performance, which initially bothered me as being half-assed, seemed more nuanced (I could see that he was really using his full ass), and I felt more of a poetry to its slow pace than before.

Being the first ever adaptation of a Pynchon novel – books that many have said are unfilmable - is no small feat, and I can’t imagine anybody doing a better job with this particular material than Anderson.

Folks who aren’t Anderson or Pynchon fans going in aren’t likely to be won over, especially at its long-ass length of 2 and a half hours, but those who are hip to its vibe and can get into a groove with its stoned tone are likely to think it’s a gas, man. Sorry, to lay that outdated lingo on you, but I bet deep down you dig it.

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Musings On The Music In The Coen Brothers' Movies: Part II

 
As the Coen brothers’ latest, INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS, is opening in my area tomorrow, I thought I’d re-post a two part piece I had written wrote for moviezeal.com a while back that chronologically covered the scores and songs of their filmography up until 2007. In addition, I'll be posting a Part 3 which will cover their films’ music from 2008 onward.

Part I covered from BLOOD SIMPLE to FARGO, so now let’s take a look at THE BIG LEBOWSKI through NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN.

PART II: From a Movie Mix-tape Made By The Dude to a Muted De-Countrified Terrain With Some Soggy Mountain Boys Songs on the Side (1998-2007)

In late 1997, not long it felt after the buzz of the awards and accolades for FARGO died down, a trailer appeared that announced the Coen brother’s next film was going to be a loud colorful comedy about an aging hippie bowler caught in, yep, another kidnapping caper! I know I was not alone when watching the preview in thinking “bring it on!”

 
THE BIG LEBOWSKI blew me away when I first saw it on the big screen with the music being no small part of the experience. Especially since the movie is wall to wall music – from the first frame to the end credits over 30 songs are heard in either fragments or filling entire scenes.

The issued soundtrack is the first of the Coens’ recordings to consist of songs - not composed tracks - with only one Carter Burwell original - “Technopop (Wie Glauben)” - That’s because there is almost no Burwell in the film – a bit of suspenseful strains to heighten the tension in the ransom drop-off sequence is the only bit I can find.

With A-list producer T. Bone Burnett brought in as “musical archivist” it’s apparent that the songs are where it’s at in the world of The Dude. In an interview in Entertainment Weekly at the time of the film’s release Ethan Coen said: “We were trying to find signature songs for each of the characters so the only thing [the songs] share is that nothing is particularly contemporary sounding. They’re all from previous eras, consistent with the characters, who had attitudes shaped by the ’60s, ’70s, or earlier.”

The movie begins with Bob Nolan’s immortal “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” underneath the rambling narration of Sam Elliot as “The Stranger” – simple enough, huh? The soft scratchy strings of “Tumbleweeds” accompany The Stranger nearly every time he appears, luring us onward into the tall tale, introducing us to “The Dude” (Jeff Bridges) as he shops for half and half at the grocery store Ralph’s.

After a classic cold opening involving the Dude’s rug getting defiled, Bob Dylan’s uncharacteristically catchy “The Man In Me” hits the screen set to a bowling montage credits sequence. “Oh, what a wonderful feeling” Dylan sings as we see bowling shoes getting sprayed, pins getting knocked down, and bowlers in a choreographed line hitting their marks in sweet succession. This obscure 1970 song from Dylan’s New Morning LP defines The Dude in all his off the cuff ramshackle charm – maybe the only Dylan song ever to have repeated “la la la la la la” lines.

We hear the song again later in the film as it’s on a tape in The Dude’s Walkman labeled: “A: Venice Beach League Playoffs 1987 B: BOB”. If you have the itch to actually hear the Dude sing “The Man In Me” – there is this YouTube clip of Jeff Bridges covering the song at a Lebowski Fest funnily enough.

The Dude also listens to CCR, usually when driving with bits of “Run Through The Jungle” and “Lookin’ Out My Back Door” rearing their swamp rock heads. He has the lone new song on the soundtrack by Elvis Costello (“My Mind Swings”) blaring in his headphones when he goes to the doctor – one of the odd musical pieces that doesn’t quite fit.

As for his musical background, The Dude worked as a roadie for Metallica (“bunch of assholes”) and hates the Eagles who he can’t abide playing on a cab stereo (“Peaceful Easy Feeling”). The Eagles are also interpreted by the Gypsy Kings in a standout scene that has a Spanish version of “Hotel California” assimilating itself as the theme song of minor character but pivotal rival bowler Jesus Quintella (John Turturro).

Musical motifs continue throughout – the millionaire Jeff Lebowski (David Huddleson) has Mozart’s “Requiem” on his hi-fi in an intense dark chamber scene. Daughter Maude Lebowski (Julianne Moore) has an eclectic collection of vinyl including the fictional Autobahn (which features Red Hot Chili Peppers’ basist Flea) – “their music is a sort of–ugh–techno-pop” she says. Another tuneful thematic treatment: pornographer Jackie Treehorn (Ben Gazzara) has Henry Mancini’s “Lucon” to suavely set his tone. Like a tuneful tumbleweed itself, Townes Van Zandt’s cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Dead Flowers” speaks volumes of all these folk as the film wraps up.

In their use of the many songs in THE BIG LEBOWSKI the Coens were coming too close to making a full throttle musical. Especially when you consider the central sequence, another dream-scene in which The Dude imagines a huge Bubsy Berkely-type musical number. Kenny Rogers and The First Edition’s “Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)” serenades the Dude joining dancing girls in Roman garb with Maude Lebowski as their leader and a Saddam Hussein look-a-like. This rousing set piece incorporated from another era forecasted the Brother’s next phase.

On the horizon approaching fast was coming a plucky period piece in which the music mightily overshadowed the movie.

 

The soundtrack for O BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU? is the most successful soundtrack of all of their films – a #1 hit (certified 8 times platinum) on the Country and Soundtrack charts that inspired a concert tour (documented in Down From The Mountain) and earned a Grammy for Album of the Year (2000).

This time T. Bone Burnett was “Music Producer” with Burwell credited with “additional music” so again the songs take the center stage. Over 50 performers are listed as personnel on the soundtrack including Alison Kraus, The Stanley Brothers, Emmylou Harris, Tim O’Brien, Gillian Welch, the Fairfield Four, the Cox Family, and everybody else in the Americana roots genre available it looks like.

The film is a great screwball romp about escaped convicts (George Clooney, Tim Blake Nelson, John Turturro) making their way across Depression-period Mississippi. They befriend blues guitarist Tommy Johnson (Chris Thomas King) who claims to have sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads. Many folks have thought that this was based on Robert Johnson but there was a real Tommy Johnson who made the same claim.

Johnson's tunage, though, is supplied by Delta blues legend Skip James – King performs James’ “Hard Time Killing Floor Blues” in one scene. Johnson lends a hand when the wanted men form a makeshift band – The Soggy Bottom Boys. With Clooney lip-syching to Dan Tyminski’s vocal, they record a invigorated version of the standard “Man Of Constant Sorrow” that becomes a regional hit proving that life does a pretty fair impression of art every once in a while.

In a 2000 interview, when asked if he was a fan of country music by the British magazine Uncut, the normally elusive and ironic Joel Coen said he was but that “[the soundtrack is] not exactly country music. It’s American roots music – folk music, in a way – and there’s lots of different strands. In the movie there’s Delta blues, early mountain music, and gospel music. They’re all different but they all come from that time and that general area.”

The gospel must be stressed as much of the music in O BROTHER is spiritual. Prominent are such songs such as “Oh Death”, “Angel Band “, “Lonesome Valley”, and the beautiful rendition of the traditional “Down to the River to Pray” by Allison Kraus, who appears in the film. While Clooney has help from overdubs, Tim Blake Nelson takes lead vocal on “In The Jailhouse Now” – a reprieve from the heavy hymns dominating the proceedings.

Now that the Coens had taken on the stylings of an old school era and with the help of T. Bone Burnett put their stamp on an entire musical genre in the process it again looked like the right time to scale back. Minimalism, both movie and music-wise, was the order of the day on their next project.

Joel Coen told a reporter that their film the following year, THE MAN WHO WASN’T THERE was “about a barber who doesn’t want to be a barber.” Shown in luxurious black and white (there are color versions of the film available in Europe and Japan), the film is another period piece taking place in 1949 Southern California. With Billy Bob Thornton as the barber we’re back to Burwell basics with no T. Bone track-picking involvement – which means spooky repeated piano figures and swelling string sections punctuating key plot points. 

Mind you these points are few – most of the movie plays with no music and often when music does appear, it lurks beneath the surface, a separate non-intertwining track. Apart from his tasteful cues Burwell conducts his muted orchestra through a few truncated Beethoven numbers – “Pathétique,” “Piano Sonata No. 25” and “Appassionata” respectively. 

Among Thornton’s hardships in this eccentric existential exercise is his longing to help Scarlett Johansen as a piano prodigy get recognized for her talent.

When told by a pretentious teacher (Adam Alexi-Malle) that she would make a good typist – “tap tap tap” – one can see Thornton’s tortured long face get longer and sense his heart sinking. The aforementioned classical pieces with smatterings of opera and big band bits are just blips on the radar of this soundtrack. Fittingly, THE MAN WHO WASN’T THERE has a score that is barely there itself.

For the most conventional comedy they’ve made to date, 2003's INTOLERABLE CRUELTY has a soundtrack that, despite Burwell’s inspired contributions, is pretty indistinguishable from most rom-com platters. Tom Jones, Chuck Mangione, Edith Piaf, Simon & Garfunkel, (even a Melissa Manchester track!) all make for a bland background mix for a cozy cocktail party. Actually I’m sure that’s pretty much what they intended.

While I think the movie is better than its critical and commercial reception implies, I think the only really truly notable musical element is the credits sequence use of Elvis Presley’s “Suspicious Minds.” Summing up the theme of the entire escapade and providing the tone with some much needed punch, especially after the less than classic cold opening (maybe the worse first scene in the Coens’ canon), the King’s mature yet winking vocal on top of crudely animated cupid imagery works wonders for a few minutes at least. INTOLERABLE CRUELTY has few fans but I’ll go on record to say it’s not without its musical merits.

Back with T. Bone Burnett, the soundtrack for the Coens' 2004 comedy THE LADYKILLERS was a failed attempt to catch the O BROTHER lightning in a bottle a second time. Nevermind that the film is unnecessary on many fronts – as a remake, as a farcical retread, as an ensemble piece – it also just goes through the motions and never quite hits any stride. The spiritual old timey leanings here just call attention to the ground already trodden.

The soundtrack alone though is a nice listen, split between “Trouble” songs (“Trouble of this World,” “Trouble In, Trouble Out,” and “Troubled, Lord I’m Troubled” by the Nappy Roots and Bill Landford respectively) and the “Let Your Light Shine On Me” songs, there is an infectious unity, but these flourishes come off cynical and smarmy in the context of the flimsy on-screen shenanigans. Still, the Coens’ brand of cinematic silliness does redeem itself in some surprisingly sincere segments in THE LADYKILLERS, as few and far between as they are.

There are only 16 minutes of music in the Coen brothers Oscar winning Cormac McCarthy adaptation of NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN. Burwell sans piano uses singing bowls and Buddhist metal bells to make his most minimalist score ever. The result is the first Coen movie to have no issued soundtrack. There are 2 Hispanic songs heard in the movie – “Puño de Tierra” and “Las Mañanitas” – but like the almost non-existent backing in THE MAN WHO WASN’T THERE, movie-goers should be instantly forgiven for not remembering them.

In methods mostly circular – like the old timer said in RAISING ARIZONA – the Coens and collaborator Carter Burwell have tracked and back-tracked over styles and genres, fearlessly leaving marks on the movie and musical map for pop culture appraisers and explorers to chart for ages to come.

They again will have the chance to hit the mark coming this fall with their next film, BURN AFTER READING *. ‘Til then we’ll have their scenes and songs to soothe our cinematic souls. Any one of the tracks I talked about may be the “Same Old Song” like the Four Tops sang in BLOOD SIMPLE, but they sure have a different meaning since the Coen brothers came along.

* This was written in 4/08. 

Coming soon: Part III: From a Star Studded Spy-style Lark to a Dark Folksinging Farce (2008-2013)

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Catching Up With The Classics: Akira Kurosawa’s HIGH AND LOW (1963)

Since I took July off from babbling ‘bout film to work on a book project (and go on vacation with my wife in Virginia), I thought instead of writing about some big new movie at the multiplex, I’d jump back into the blogosphere with a post about a classic I just caught up with. A black and white Foreign one at that.

I’ve seen a bunch of the films of the late great Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa (1910-1998) over the years, but somehow never got around to seeing his 1963 thriller of sorts HIGH AND LOW until now. 

A co-worker spoke of re-watching it recently and I made the mental note to put it in my Netflix queue. So glad that I did because it had me from the get go with Toshirô Mifune’s intense performance as an executive for a shoe manufacturing company trying to fight off his colleagues attempts to cut costs and quality in a starkly shot opening scene.

With 16 films under the director, Mifune was to Kurosawa what Humphrey Bogart was to John Huston, or Robert DeNiro to Martin Scorsese, but the duo are more known for their Samurai movies than their modern day dramas like this one that they made together between 1948-1965.

The Hitchcockian HIGH AND LOW (aka “Heaven and Hell”) can be broken down into 3 acts. The first is set mostly in the interior of Mifune’s luxurious mansion overlooking the city of Yokohama and concerns the tycoon dealing with the kidnapping of his chauffeur’s son. The kidnappers meant to abduct Mifune’s son, but the kids who were playing “Cowboys and Indians,” or more accurately “Sheriffs and Outlaws,” had switched outfits.

In long unbroken widescreen shots a stressed-out Mifune wrestles with whether or not to pay the huge ransom (30 million yen). Paying it would ruin him as he just mortgaged his house in order to gain more control of his company, but not paying could destroy his reputation and his business could suffer greatly.

The Chauffer (Yutaka Sada), and Mifune’s wife (Kyōko Kagawa) beg Mifune to pay the ransom, while a dapper police detective (Tatsuya Nakadai) suavely oversees the situation. Mifune gives in and arranges to make the exchange for the child. Turns out the kidnapper has cleverly planned to have Mifune throw the money in 2 suitcases out of the window of a moving train, with the boy being released near the next stop. “Damn clever” Nakadai says.

The train sequence, which heightens the tension of the movie greatly, begins the second act. The film’s police procedural p.o.v. intensifies with the investigation into the kidnapping leaving no stone unturned. The cop that the Dude in THE BIG LEBOWSKI asks about leads may have joked sarcastically about detectives working in shifts at the crime lab, but here the police are definitely putting in overtime studying films, photos, and even the kid’s crayon drawings to close this kidnapping case.

The third act consists of the kidnapper (Tsutomu Yamazaki) being identified by the police and getting caught in their trap involving a heroin deal. I recently read a rant by a filmmaker about how framing something or somebody dead center is boring, but Kurosawa’s cameras, manned by cinematographers Asakazu Nakai and Takao Saito, keep Yamazaki in the middle of many shots as he makes his way through the dark streets, and it’s never not visually interesting.

In one shot a mirrored wall in a crowded club is shown, seemingly at an angle, but as the camera pans across the room we see that the wall itself was slanted, and Yamazaki in a strikingly bright white collared shirt and shades again enters in the center. 1995's SIN CITY (Dirs. Frank Miller, Robert Rodriguez, and Quentin Tarantino) featured a nod to this imagery via Elijah Wood's psychopathic character, Kevin.

During this sequence, the policemen following him are demoted to supporting players in the shadows, with the antagonist eerily commanding all of our attention.

These scenes also show how Westernized Japan had become in the early ‘60s. The sight of drunk patrons dancing to surf guitar music blaring from a jukeboxes in noisy bistros isn’t that far removed from background fodder in a MGM Elvis movie from the same era.

HIGH AND LOW is a multi-layered story told straight with little in the way of artistic flourishes and it’s all the better for it. The non-flashy clarity of the screenplay by Kurosawa, Hideo Oguni, Ryûzô Kikushima, and Eijirô Hisaita (based on the 1959 novel “King’s Ransom” by Ed McBain) makes for a very satisfying watch.

As densely detailed as it is, HIGH AND LOW ultimately boils down to a concept as simple as its title. “The kidnapper is right,” says one of the investigators looking at Mifune’s mansion from the poverty stricken streets below.

“The house gets to you…as if it’s looking down on you.” This view is confirmed by Yamazaki meeting face to face with Mifune in the final scene.

“Why should you and I hate each other?” Mifune asks. “My room was so cold in winter, and so hot in summer I couldn’t sleep. Your house looked like heaven to me, high up there,” Yamazaki explains. “That’s how I began to hate you. That gave me a purpose in life. It’s interesting to make fortunate men unfortunate.”

Unsurprisingly, there has been talk of remaking this film. Scorsese, Mike Nichols, and Chris Rock (!) have expressed interest in taking it on, but if you haven’t seen it, don’t wait for that to happen. Folks with aversions to old black and white subtitled films should get over it and queue this one up (or purchase the fancy Criterion Collection edition). It’s another in a long line of classic Kurosawa keepers.

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10 Classic Albums That Only Exist In The Movies

It's time for another random list! This one focuses on the fictitious output by fictitious musicians in the movies. Sometimes you don't get to see an album cover by the character of the artist (I don't remember seeing any of the albums by Jeff Bridges' Bad Blake in CRAZY HEART for example), but I'm always amused when we are lucky enough to get a glimpse of their records' art. Here's 10 that caught my eye:

1. “Rock and Roll Creation”: Spinal Tap This is one of several albums we see throughout Rob Reiner's rock documentary satire THIS IS SPINAL TAP (1984). The others were “Shark Sandwich,” “Intravenus de Milo,” “The Sun Never Sweats,” and “Brainhammer” which all had convincing looking ‘70s-style art. In the extremely funny film, Reiner, as director Marty DiBergi, reads an excerpt from a review (of course fictitious) of the album to the band that has this priceless quote: “This pretentious, ponderous collection of religious rock psalms is enough to prompt the question “What day did the lord create Spinal Tap, and couldn’t he have rested on that day too?”

2. “Black Sheep”: Dewey Cox John C. Reily's Dewey Cox goes through every musical phase, many borrowed from other artists, imaginable in Jake Kasdan's music biopic parody WALK HARD: THE DEWEY COX STORY (2007). During his Brian Wilson/SMiLE psychedelic period he records what some consider his masterpiece: “Black Sheep.” The album cover heavily cribs from the Beatles' “Yellow Submarine” soundtrack's cover from '68 as much as the song riffs on Wilson's SMiLE sessions lunacy.

3. “Time Will Come”: Jack Rollins Christian Bale takes on Bob Dylan in Todd Haynes' I'M NOT THERE (2007) on this mock-up that offers a variation on Dylan's 1964 classic “The Times They Are A-Changing” album cover. The burlap fabric aesthetic is a nice touch.

4. “The Freewheelin’ Bob Roberts”: Bob Roberts Tim Robbins' directorial debut BOB ROBERTS (1992) also re-did Dylan on this and all of his conservative folk-singing Senate candidate characters' album covers that pop up throughout the splendid political satire. This one obviously skews Dylan's 1962 classic “The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan” but it edits the girl on the voice of a generation's arm for a guitar and replaces the aloof distant shoe-gazing with a stride of pride.

5. “Rogers and Clarke: In Concert Live!” It's a stretch to say that this would be a classic because it was a flop in the world that Elaine May's ISHTAR (1987) takes place in - the final shot/joke of the movie has the album listed at a “Special Low Price” in the window of what looks like a Tower Records. I love how the album is titled “In Concert Live!” with an exclamation point (so loved by those who used to title live albums). Incidentally ISHTAR is out of print on DVD, but it's coming out on Blu ray at the end of this month! I'm just disappointed that it's not a Criterion Collection release. Sigh.

6. “Calling It Quits”: Mitch Cohen There are lots of phony album covers in Christopher Guest's folk music reunion mockumentary A MIGHTY WIND (2003), but the art for Eugene Levy's Mitch Cohen character's solo album “Calling It Quits” is my favorite. It's just waiting to be used as the cover of a mix CD of depressing hurting heart songs, and I love how it looks like it could really be one of those singer-songwriter era divorce albums of the '70s. 

7. “To Begin With”: Stillwater Another fake release that looks authentically '70s, the Allman Brothers-ish looking album takes its title from a line in Cameron Crowe's ALMOST FAMOUS (2000) that the fictitious rock band on the rise Stillwater was the subject of: When asked by Patrick Fugit as a young Rolling Stone reporter what he most loves about music, Billy Crudup's guitarist character responds: “To begin with...everything.” A soundbite of these lines is used in one of the intros for the popular radio show Sound Opinions.

8. “Nagelbett”: Autobahn In the Coen brothers' cult classic THE BIG LEBOWSKI (1998), Jeff Bridges' iconic character The Dude learns that the group of nihilists that are behind the kidnapping caper were once in a Kraftwerk-style band called Autobahn. Maude Lebowski (Julianne Moore) has their album in her vinyl collection and says of it “Their music is a sort of, ugh, techno-pop.”

9. “Spanish Fly Fisherman”: Coconut Pete Sure, this fake cover is just a throwaway joke in a clunky comedy, Broken Lizard's followup to their much funnier SUPER TROOPERS, CLUB DREAD (Dir. Jay Chandrasekhar, 2004), but since the list is winding down I thought I'd throw it in. Just like the next one.

10. “Ted Striker's 400 Polka Favorites”: Ted Striker 

Speaking of throwaway jokes: In Ken Finkleman's AIRPLANE II: THE SEQUEL (1982), a moon station officer (Sandahl Bergman) tells William Shatner as Commander Buck Murdock that she's pulled Ted Striker's record. Shatner asks: “How is it?” Bergman: “I don't think you're gonna like it, sir.” (Pulls out “Ted Striker's 400 Polka Favorites”) Shatner: “That's worse than I thought.”

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TRUE GRIT: Another Instant Classic From The Coen Brothers

TRUE GRIT 
(Dirs. Joel & Ethan Coen, 2010)



Since they stumbled in the early Aughts with a couple of sub par offerings (INTOLERABLE CRUELTY, THE LADYKILLERS), Joel and Ethan Coen have been on a grand roll. The Oscar winning NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, the comedy hit BURN AFTER READING, and last year's critically acclaimed A SERIOUS MAN were all excellent additions to their canon, but their newest film, TRUE GRIT, may be the best of the batch.

An adaptation of the 1968 novel by Charles Portis rather than a remake of the 1969 John Wayne film, TRUE GRIT is in many ways a traditional example of the Western genre. What makes it so much more is its handling of the manner of characters that appear naturalistic yet still exuberantly exaggerated - in a way that long-time followers of the Coens will appreciate royally.

The "Dude" himself, Jeff Bridges, plays U.S. Marshall Reuben J. "Rooster" Cogburn - an iconic role that is considered one of the most definitive of the Duke's. Bridges owns it here however with a drunken swagger and a grizzled gusto. The real protagonist of the story is the 14 year old Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) who recruits Bridges to help her hunt down her father's murderer (Josh Brolin).

For such a young whippersnapper, Steinfeld has a stern delivery confirming her determination and her sometimes harsh words to Bridges have a sting to them that is more than equal to Kim Darby's readings in the 1969 version. See? It's hard not to compare this film to the original adaptation. They follow the same plot progressions and the spirit of Western homage is certainly present, but the Coens saw the piece as funnier with less Hollywood sentiment and they deliver a film that lives up to their vision gloriously.

Matt Damon, who was long overdue for a part in a Coens production, has a juicy gruff character of his own in Texas Ranger Le Bouef. Damon is at first just along for the ride with Bridges and Steinfeld, but his jaded face-offs with the Marshall and the foes they encounter along the way have a hilarious bite to them as the tension builds.

As a Western in the classic mold with a body count, I didn't expect TRUE GRIT to be as funny as it is - it's for sure one of the Coen's most laugh-filled films since THE BIG LEBOWSKI - just about every utterance of Bridge's is comic gold and his fellow cast mates (including crusty turns by a deranged Brolin and Barry Pepper as Lucky Ned Pepper funnily enough) hold their own humor-wise as well.

Then there's the magnificent cinematography by Coen Bros. collaborator Roger Deakins that fills the frame with striking shots of the blinding terrain in New Mexico and Texas as well as the extreme jolting actor close-ups that flicker with raw emotion. Another Coen Bros. co-hort Carter Burwell, who has been with them since BLOOD SIMPLE (1984), provides a score composed of gospel hymns and effectively spare piano accompaniment.

TRUE GRIT is an instant classic.

From the Coen Brothers' ace direction to the cast's top notch acting spouting out hilarious dialog line after line and then on to the wondrous look, feel, and heart of the film, I honestly can not think of a negative criticism of it. I can't wait to see it again. If I find anything to dislike about it then - I'll get back to you.

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A SERIOUS MAN: The Film Babble Blog Review

A SERIOUS MAN (Dirs. Joel & Ethan Coen, 2009)



"No Jews were harmed in the making of this motion picture." - End credit disclaimer. 

In the 25 years since they first burst on the indie movie scene with the stellar BLOOD SIMPLE, the Coen Brothers have hit many cinematic curveballs into the woodwork of their films. Those being character or tangents (or both) that appear not to fit initially into their understood premises and leave us scratching our heads to their purpose in the grand scheme of things. 

Examples include: Mike Yanagita (Steve Park) -the high-school classmate of Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) who oddly appears at an pivotal point in FARGO, the pedophile bowling rival Jesus Quintana (John Turturro) who steals a good 5 minutes of THE BIG LEBOWSKI, and Ed Crane's (Billy Bob Thornton) UFO dream in THE MAN WHO WASN'T THERE. As perplexing as these seemingly ersatz elements are, they are often the most memorable moments of their movies. Imagine if they concocted an entire film out of such scenes. 

A SERIOUS MAN isn't quite that concoction, but it comes pretty damn close with its unproven paradoxes, character threads that aren't followed through, and fake-out dream sequences. On the surface it's about the trials and tribulations of Minnesotan physics professor Larry Gobnik (Michael Stuhlbarg) in the late 60's. Beneath the surface it's about religion, betrayal, academia, Jewish suffering, and a futile search for meaning - I think. When the opening couplet of Jefferson Airplane's "Somebody To Love" (a driving force throughout the movie) is recited by a Rabbi as if it's an ancient prayer, you can be sure that what this film is about exactly is going to be up for debate for a long time.


Gobnik is surrounded by headaches - his wife (Sari Lennick) wants a divorce, his schlebbish but possibly brilliant brother (Richard Kind) sleeps on his couch, his daughter (Jessica McManus) is stealing from his wallet for a nose job, his son (Aaron Wolff) is stealing from her for marijuana, and his tenure may be threatened by a series of slanderous anonymous letters that his school's committee keeps receiving. 

There's also a thick headed racist gun-toting neighbor (Peter Breitmayer) and a Korean student (David Kang) who attempts to bribe Gobnik for a passing grade. In a confrontation over that particular no-win situation the student's father tells Gobnik to "accept the mystery." 

Obviously that's what the Coen Brothers are telling us too. Here's hoping movie goers got their A-list fill with their previous outing BURN AFTER READING because there are very few recognizable names here. Folks will likely know Richard Kind and Adam Arkin (as a somewhat sympathetic lawyer) from various television roles, but the cast is mostly fresh and unknown with Stuhlbarg's pitch perfect exasperated everyman standing out in the starring role. 

 As one of the Rabbis that Gobnik seeks solace from, George Wyner (also familiar from TV as well as turns in fan favorites SPACEBALLS and FLETCH) owns one of the best scenes in the film (an instant classic in the Coens canon BTW) relaying a story about a dentist who is shocked to find Hebrew engravings on the back of a non-Jewish patient's teeth. Gobnik's son Danny's (Wolff) bar mitzvah is another notable highlight. 

While his father struggles with existential discord, Danny's biggest concerns are out-running a bully he owes money and getting the best possible TV signal so he can watch F Troop. As seen through Danny's stoned eyes, the paranoia pulsating through his coming of age ceremony is pleasingly palpable.

 

There is quite a bit of humor in A SERIOUS MAN but it's not laugh out loud funny, it's more like inward cringing giggle funny. It has been called the Coen Brother's most personal film as the suburban tract housing world it creates is reportedly identical to the one of their childhood as are the overriding rites of a traditional Jewish upbringing but it rarely comes off auto-biographical. Gobnik and his family's fates are literally about to be twisting in the wind as we leave them and while that's of little comfort - for some reason it made me smile. 

One day maybe I'll be able to say exactly why. 

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DVD Review: THE ACHIEVERS: THE STORY OF THE LEBOWSKI FANS

THE ACHIEVERS: THE STORY OF LEBOWSKI FANS (Dir. Eddie Chung, 2009) 

"Friday we watch the movie, on Saturday we become the movie." - Will Russell (Founding Dude, Lebowski Fest) First released to bad box office and mostly critical indifference, over the last 11 years THE BIG LEBOWSKI has grown a following of fans so large that they regularly meet for conventions all over the country called "Lebowski Fests."

This documentary, made from modest means, tells the story of how these events celebrating "the first cult film of the internet era" came together - from such ramshackle beginnings as an impromptu party at a bowling alley with 150 people to large lavish venues attended by thousands with appearances by actors from the film, rock bands, and all sorts of special guests usually in costume. Full disclosure: though I've never attended one of the fests, THE BIG LEBOWSKI is one of my favorite films of all time. 

I loved it from the beginning, seeing it in the theater in its original theatrical release more than once. I dragged a few less than excited friends to see it - trying to recruit converts before I even considered a cult was possible I suppose. In the years afterwards I saw it many times recognizing over and over that it was one of the funniest and one of the most quotable movies ever made. It's undoubtedly up there with DR. STRANGELOVE, MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL, and THIS IS SPINAL TAP.

Obviously I wasn't alone in this thinking as people from all kinds of diverse backgrounds started convening for these Dude loving festivals running around in bathrobes or dressed as giant Creedence tapes, severed toes, red suited nihilists with over sized scissors, girls in viking gear, and scores of gun toting Walter Sobcheks who all come to bowl, drink White Russians, and to see yet another screening of the film. 

This documentary, named after the moniker message board forum member Lebowski fans gave themselves which comes from dialogue in the movie ("The Little Lebowski Urban Achievers - and proud we are of all of them."), introduces us to founders Scott Shuffitt and Will Russell who are ecstatically surprised at the ever growing turnouts. 

Russell: "All my nerdiest dreams are coming true." They've been organizing these fests since 2002 (the first one was in Louisville, Kentucky) and through past footage and photographs we get all the, you know, a lotta ins, lotta outs, lotta what-have-yous. 

Definitely a highlight is when The Dude himself, Jeff Bridges, shows up to thunderous applause at a Fest in Los Angeles and with his band performs Dylan's "The Man In Me" (which I guess is The Dude's theme song). Bridges in a later interview in Rolling Stone refers to his reception walking on stage as his "Beatles moment."

They cut away from his performance but that's okay since they later have a much better version of the song (sorry Dude) done by My Morning Jacket at a Fest in 2004. Also resonating are the book ending bits (which also thread through) focusing on a young woman (Stormy Lang) who's passionately determined to win 1st place at a Lebowski trivia competition.



With a looser structure than the similarly themed TREKKIES and perhaps too dependent on interspersed and often punctuating clips from the original movie, this plays more like a glorified bonus featurette than a film in its own right. Indeed one of the most recent DVD editions of the THE BIG LEBOWSKI had a 14 minute excerpt from this documentary so be sure to look for it on 15th and 20th anniversary editions in the future.

Not that that's such a bad fate but at 70 minutes with 25% film clips it's not gonna have the same rewatchability factor as the film it's paying homage to. Also it should be noted that the DVD has no special features itself - not even a proper menu and it's one track with no chapter breaks so we're really talking bare bones here. Still for Lebowski fans it's worth a rental with one good concentrated viewing. 

To see the creative costumes, to hear the anecdotes (especially one I won't spoil involving a friend of Joel and Ethan Coen's: USC Professor Peter Exline), and to feel the vibe from everybody involved is a touching testement to what the Coen Brothers created but then left behind (The Coens do not appear in THE ACHIEVERS nor have they commented on the film's appeal or cult in any recent interview). 

I may yet go to one of the Lebowski Fests so it's nice to get an idea of what to expect and it's also good to know that there's all these dudes out there takin' 'er easy for all us sinners. 

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