In film news...

Todd Haynes unleashes more genius:



I love it when actors act and directors bother to be creative. Fall is going to be an excellent time for film...I hope.

In Film News...

YEEESSSS!!!!

but first...

Tim Burton's remake of Planet of the Apes (2001) is a tragedy. Big Fish (2003) was good, but as time passes I am less and less impressed (except with Helena Bonham Carter, I love her as the witch). Similarly, as time has passed I have begun to loathe Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005). What a waste of two great talents. And Corpse Bride (2005), I forced myself to love it, but it's just not that good. The fact of the matter is, Sleepy Hollow (1999) was the last true Tim Burton film. Where is the director that stole my child soul with Beetlejuice in 1988?

I think, quite possible, that he's back:


Never Forget. Never Forgive. Ooooooo, I just peed a little. One can never truly tell, but Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street looks Tim Burton as hell! I could give two shits about the Broadway musical (I honestly don't know a thing about it), I just wanna see Burtonesque sets and Johnny Depp's ass acting adult and murderous! And I don't think I'm alone on this, as it seems Sweeney Todd was one of the most anticipated films at this year's ComicCon...apart from The Dark Knight of course, but who can beat that train?


Synopsis: (stolen from IMDB cuz I'm lazy)
Based on the 19th century legend of Sweeney Todd and the hit Broadway musical with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, Sweeney Todd a.k.a Benjamin Barker returns to London after being sent away by Judge Turpin with the help of a sailor, Anthony Hope. He opens a barber shop above Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Shop were she sells "the worst pies in London." With the help of Mrs. Lovett, Todd tries to rid of all the people who have ever done him wrong and hopes to be reunited with his daughter, Joanna, who is now Judge Turpin's ward.

All you really need to hear is that you'll be watching Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter interact on screen for most of the film.

There is apparently a limited release date for December 21. If God knows what's right, it'll be in my area, and if it is, y'all know what I'm doin' for my birthday. Otherwise, we inexplicably have to wait until January 11, 2008. I hope this signifies a new age of Burton, and I hope Jack Sparrow is dead. Sorry, but I'm sick of how much those movies suck overall. Depp should not be sleep walking his genius around.

The Power of the Penus

This clip is just too much. lol (pay attention to the look on the lady's face on the left throughout this their 'discussion')

uknowha'Imean?

A BRIEF BOOK REVIEW FULL OF RUN-ON SENTENCES, CORRUPT SEXUAL CLICHES, AND VIRTUALLY NO POINT.

by Derek Loozander

08/18/07

Harry Potter Wants You To Open Up

So I finally caught up with the runaway train that was the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows book release. Now I know what you're thinking, and I agree, it is pretty disaffecting that 25 year old adults such as myself get wrapped up in kids books about magic - even though they ARE awesome, even though getting people to read is a wonderful thing and no other series of books has taken the world by storm in such a manner as these - I do agree with you, at least, until I finish the book anyway...

See the thing is, what made me love these tales, these stories that have already become a deep part of our culture and will be read by our children and our children's children (and nobody else because after that our society will start looking like the society in the movie Children of Men and nobody will be able to have children anymore), were the characters. Its the same thing that make me love any book, movie, or TV show that I happen to get wrapped up in at the moment (which, btw, anybody seen HEROES? - special clip-episode to air this Monday, bitches - as the great Fergie-Ferg once said, "check it out."). This is the reason that when somebody bought me the first Harry Potter book as a gift to read while I was laid up with a broken foot one summer, it just reinforced my hatred of what has come to be known as "Pottermania."

Again don't get me wrong, I thought it was a good book - a great book even, FOR KIDS. But the particular kind of storywhore that I am craves a character a bit more complex than an 11 year old. A person's character is the ultimate tale of themselves, and therefore, to me, is the ultimate form of story, and as I have said many times, I love a good story. This occurred to me about 400 pages into the new Harry Potter novel, as I put the book down in boredom, questioning what made this book so much different from the other books and thinking, "when the HELL are Ron and Hermione goona DO IT?!" since this has been an evident destiny to me ever since I began the Harry Potter series - It was then that I realized the thing that bored me about The Deathly Hollows; nothing happens in regards to the character drama that was so prominent in the other four books I've read until about page 407...

Again, let me explain; the thing that got me into these books was the characters, so when I decided I would give this "beloved children's tale" rubbish another go, I started with the third installment, the installment most of the people I know started with, The Prisoner of Azkaban, or, as we like to refer to it, Escape From Azkaban. In the third installment, the kids are thirteen years old, so I could appreciate their characters a little more than I did in the first installment, and, having followed these characters through three and a half other adventures, I now want to go back and read the first two installments (for the first time) since there have been a ton of throwbacks and references to those books. As far as The Deathly Hollows goes, I don't know, I haven't finished it yet and my final verdict is not in. So what the hell is the point of this book review?

Basically - even if the mere mention of his name pisses you off these days, give Harry another go, I did, and I remembered today that it was TOTALLY WORTH IT. Its really a lot more than just a silly kid's book.

Breaking News

...SIT ON MY FACE!!!

"When Under Ether, the new single from PJ Harvey, will be released on September 17th 2007 by Island Records.

The first single to be taken from PJ Harvey’s much anticipated eighth studio album, White Chalk, When Under Ether will be released on download and vinyl 7”. The b-side is previously unreleased and unavailable track Wait, one of the first songs ever recorded by Harvey in 1988."

OOOoohhhhhh yeeeeaaaHHHHHH!

FREE WINONA

MEMORANDUM

08/15/07

TO: Winona Ryder

FROM: Derek Loozander

RE: Bring It On!

Oh Winona, My Sharona....

A most unique rise to fame, yours began with such dark and respectably offbeat choices as Heathers, Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, and Dracula, only to progress onward to be peppered with more casual, but still atypical female roles in movies like Mermaids, and Little Women. It was by the mid-90s that your career had clearly achieved a notorious cult status.

This notoriety was clearly not put to waste either, as you led a generation into social combat with your oh-so-famous Reality Bites graduation speech, claiming, ever so nonchalantly, that the answer to all of the world's problems was simply, "I don't know." It may have been exactly then, in that GENX famous moment, that an entire league of people your age felt, for the first time ever, that it was okay - that they had the power to stand up and say to their parents, "You totally just FUCKED us all, thank you very much." 

During this time, in case you were not aware, you systematically rose above all other talented actresses of your age, and mind you there were many, from famous families even - Bridget Fonda, Gwyneth Paltrow, and yes, even Drew Barrymore to name a few, to become an icon. Yes. ICON. For you were not the girl next door, but you were also not the party girl. Not the good girl, but not exactly the bad girl either. Definitely not silly, but also not plain. And yet despite being none of these girls, in a way, somehow, you were a little of them all. You were yourself, in a time when this was the most important thing you could be.

In a time of political correctiveness, when the appropriateness of certain gender roles came into question, you set an example. You were never anybody's wife, but it was not because you were at a loss of alternatives and you were obviously powerful, but never in a way that was threatening or unattractive. You shot straight into outer space, making girls in other galaxies covet your haircut. 

But then there was a breakup, the loss of a good friend, and alas, scandal. And although these forces have worked their fingers into virtually every Hollywood legacy, they worked them a little too deeply into yours, but trust me when I say that it doesn't have to be the end. You still have a respectable career. PLEASE stop playing cameos and bit parts - the world wants to see you! We want to see your skill; the soft kill of your lovely two and only brown eyes. We want to see your grace, and your face - a face untouched by age! We want to see the girl who was there while we were all growing up - the girl we love - GET UP! DO SOMETHING NOW!!

Keira Knightley is vastly approaching....  

"Gays Too Precious to Risk in Combat", Says General

'Gays Too Precious To Risk In Combat,' Says General

Elderly, Florida man experiences death of his inner child; Friends say he refuses to play Canasta.

A rare disease, Sudden Inner Child Death Syndrome (SICDS), appears to be responsible for the death of an elderly man’s zest for life. The victim has been a Shady Pines resident for the past 10 years; Tommy, now prefers to be called Thomas. Friends began to notice changes in his behavior weeks ago when he stopped making fart jokes and began quoting “CSPAN”.


“It was like all of a sudden he lost his sense of humor and ability to fart on command at once! We knew something was not right” said one former friend.

Thomas was one of the events coordinator for the retirement home made famous by the hit show “Golden Girls”.

“We haven’t received this much publicity since Sofia Patrillo became a temporary resident against her will” said Shady Pines founder, Bert Johnson. “As soon as the residents brought it to our attention, we called his Doctor and Therapist to see what was wrong.”

Leading SICDS expert, Dr. Imas Ico gives us some insight: “Most people misdiagnose SICDS as a form of dementia, but careful psychological testing often reveals that the cognitive functions are fully intact, in fact more so than average. Some differences can be measured in higher level tests, when you compare them to the general population. As you can see from the charts I have provided there is a tendency to be drawn to a more conservative political stance and patients usually present with a decreased sense of humor, or the humor found on FOX News or Newt Gingrich”.

When asked what may be the leading cause of the disease, Dr. Ico cites excessive Canasta playing mixed with fart jokes and inappropriate sexual innuendos.

“There appears to be a short circuit response from the excessive use of the area in the brain responsible for keeping the Inner Child alive, coincidentally the same part of the brain that is required to play Canasta, fart, make jokes, and laugh inappropriately.”

For now there is no cure, but most victims don’t seem to mind anyway. When asked how he felt about SICDS, Thomas simply stated “Go to hell. You're interrupting my show!”

The show Thomas was watching? The 700 Club.

Research is underway to further explore this heartbreaking disease.

Ride it Again

Two New Westerns you probably missed because A. You hate old westerns and/or B. You need to start paying more attention to your surroundings. How many times do your mother and I need to tell you...

On second viewing the realization hits- The Proposition (2005) is a masterpiece. I was loving every second more than I remembered on the first time through. I love movies that hit me like that, always better on each go around.

In short, two outlaws are captured by a lawman. They turn out to be two of the three notorious Burns brothers, wanted in connection with the brutal massacre of a British family. Charlie Burns, played by the amazing Guy Pearce, receives a difficult proposition from the Captain- he has 9 days to find and kill his eldest brother Arthur (he's the crazy violent one) or his youngest (and virtually useless) brother Mikey will be hanged. Throw in the turmoil of race slaughter and general immorality, and its on.

The Western film genre is on the rise again. Edward Norton's Down in the Valley (2005), sadly, made it clear that the genre should definitely still stick with the late 1800 time period. Nick Cave (genuine whiskey-rock crooner, does film's soundtrack as well, extra cool points for landing P.J. Harvey and having the sense to duet with her) understood this, but he understood it in a way that is far more creative than any other new western that I'm sure will be pooped out of Hollywood in the next 2-3 years. Cave understood that environment is just as important as bad ass shoot outs, and virtually lawless 19th century colonial Australia is a refreshingly new backdrop, though not utterly unlike the Western scenery of old. Clint Eastwood wishes he had to deal with dark skinned natives throwing spears through his chest. The violence is extreme, but absolutely fitting, and no one gets to carry the virtue stick, not even the pretty English wifey (played in usual broken-woman* fashion by Emily Watson.) The visuals of the film are enhanced by director John Hillcoat. I have NO idea who he is, but he and Cave are working on another film together, so hurray!

It is worth noting that Nick Cave also managed to write one of the best ending scenes in a film ever. "What are you going to do now?" YES! Watch it, and you'll know. Gloomy Australian balladeers need to write more films.

Which brings me to another great new Western of sorts: The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada (2005). Apparently 2005 was the year of awesome. Not only did Nick Cave up and write an excellent Australian period piece, but Tommy Lee Jones went and proved himself a high class director. Not to mention that he can still act better than anyone, he just has to be allowed.

A rancher named Pete struggles to uncover the mystery around his friend's death, and keep a promise he made to him about his final resting place. Written by Guillermo Arriaga, scribe of Amores perros (2000), 21 Grams (2003) and Babel (2006), the film retains the grittiness of the three aforementioned films, as well as the out of order narrative style he seems to prefer. But Tommy Lee Jones is also largely responsible for maintaining the grit. His squint alone provides enough grit to last a lifetime. This is before the good casting comes in. Most notable apart from Jones, is Barry Pepper, whose blonde Canadian hot ass is abused for most of the film. He stumbles well, and accomplishes what a good actor should- he artfully makes the viewer feel compassion for a despicable human being. Well, despicable may be harsh, considering he does feel bad about killing a man, but he's all shoot first- figure out what you're shooting at later. Without redemption, he's a midwest hick, which is just plain unforgivable.

Three Burials actually disproves my belief that Westerns should remain in the 19th century, though period pieces are just plain awesome. The film also has a similarly awesome ending as The Proposition- "Hey! You gonna be alright?" God love it! Really the bottom line is Nick Cave should write a movie that Tommy Lee Jones directs and stars in.





*stolen from Billy


___________________on a side, though not totally random note:


Guy Pearce is the greatest stealth actor around. His magnificence lies in his ability to vanish within each role, as a good actor should, but his true genius lies in the fact that he doesn't stand out from the rest of the cast. He spreads his skill around. That's why, as you read this, you can maybe only think of one other Guy Pearce movie, but you've actually seen, like, twelve.

Top 5 Guy Pearce movies I love, and everyone must see:

1. A Slipping Down Life (1999)
2. The Proposition (2005)
3. Memento (2000)
4. L.A. Confidential (1997)
5. Ravenous (1999)


He is excellent as Andy Warhol in Factory Girl, but the movie just isn't. And I'm curious about his portrayal of Harry Houdini in the upcoming Death Defying Acts, though knowing what I know about Houdini, I am bothered that they apparently couldn't find anything interesting about Houdini's actual life so they made up an affair with a psychic (a type of person Houdini would have personally skinned alive), but what do you do? It's the price we pay to see Guy Pearce get it on with Catherine Zeta-Jones.

Summer Reading

Fuck

There are people who will tell you
that using the word fuck in a poem
indicates a serious lapse
of taste, or imagination,

or both. It's vulgar,
indecorous, an obscenity
that crashes down like an anvil
falling through a skylight

to land on a restaurant table,
on the white linen, the cut-glass vase of lilacs.
But if you were sitting
over coffee when the metal

hit your saucer like a missile,
wouldn't that be the first thing
you'd say? Wouldn't you leap back
shouting, or at least thinking it,

over and over, bell-note riotously clanging
in the church of your brain
while the solicitous waiter
led you away, wouldn't you prop

your shaking elbows on the bar
and order your first drink in months,
telling yourself you were lucky
to be alive? And if you wouldn't

say anything but Mercy or Oh my
or Land sakes, well then
I don't want to know you anyway
and I don't give a fuck what you think

of my poem. The world is divided
into those whose opinions matter
and those who will never have
a clue, and if you knew

which one you were I could talk
to you, and tell you that sometimes
there's only one word that means
what you need it to mean, the way

there's only one person
when you first fall in love,
or one infant's cry that calls forth
the burning milk, one name

that you pray to when prayer
is what's left to you. I'm saying
in the beginning was the word
and it was good, it meant one human

entering another and it's still
what I love, the word made
flesh. Fuck me, I say to the one
whose lovely body I want close,

and as we fuck I know it's holy,
a psalm, a hymn, a hammer
ringing down on an anvil
forging a whole new world.

-Kim Addonizio

BREAKING NEWS

HELLO KITTY!

by Derek Loozander

08/12/07

Did you see THIS?

Police Officials in Bangkok Thailand announced last week that officers caught committing small misdemeanors will be forced to wear a pink armband emblazoned with the "Hello Kitty" characters. One police official explained that the old system, which forced deviant officers to wear a plaid armband, did not create enough shame, as the officers began collecting the plaid armbands as souvenirs, and that if the Hello Kitty system is a success, officers who are repeat offenders will be punished by having to wear this as part of their uniform:

 

Sometimes sun shines...

Anytime a group of people are couped up in space, you know some shit's gonna go down. Aliens are the least of anyone's problem when deteriorating human psyches are involved. Throw in a hot Irish actor, an excellent and only partially known cast, amazing visuals, and you've got yourself a new Danny Boyle film.

28 Days Later was the beginning of a beautiful working relationship between director Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, The Beach), writer Alex Garland (28 Days Later) and actor Cillian Murphy (Breakfast on Pluto, Red Eye). Their newest offering, Sunshine, is what Event Horizon (1997) wanted to be- an epic, well acted, slightly psychotic space showdown between men of science and men of religion. I can't stress enough how awesomely visual this film is. It needs to be seen in a theatre to be fully appreciated. It looks expensive, but it doesn't look polished, which is a huge plus. I couldn't help but focus on the fact that actress Rose Byrne has no make-up on. Bless her, she looked perfect. It reminded me of Sigourney Weaver in Alien, how she was sans lipgloss and eyeliner the entire time and looked better for it. I love that. Learn Hollywood, learn!

However, makeup-less women is not what the film is about. In the not too distant future, the sun is dying and Earth is locked in a solar winter. Please spare me any scientific reasonings as to why this is impossible during man's existence (because Star Wars and the Aliens flicks are flawless in their scientific accuracy). Eight astronauts are en route to the sun with a giant bomb (the payload) meant to be detonated inside the sun to create a new star within a star, and get Earth cookin' again. The Icarus II is the last hope for mankind, Icarus I having vanished seven years prior. Cue mechanical failure and ghostly distress signal, shake well and let the fun begin.

I was told prior to watching the film that the scene where the character named Kaneda is asked "What do you see?" is amazing, and it was, so I pass that down to you as incentive. There were several shots throughout the film that left me with a wowed feeling. It's what happens when talented people make films. For anyone interested in good films, I have to insist that you see this one. If you don't I will never ever talk to you again, but if you do, I'll be your best friend, the best friend you ever had.

No, not really, but in all seriousness Danny Boyle still gots it. This film is being grossly under-promoted and is in limited release, so make it count.

In Other News

Official End of Summer Product: BLEACH!!!


It's been around forever, and really never fails to accomplish the task you set out for. Nothing compares to the sin absorbing powers of bleach!


Bathroom mold invading your pristine white tiles? Bleach!
Disgusting stains in your kitchen sink? Bleach!
Questionable stains on your bedroom sheets? Bleach!
Even more questionable stains on your cotton grandma panties? Bleach!
Wanna have lingering dizzy spells after 24 hours? Bleach!
Need to kill your best friend/worst enemy Heather and you're fresh out of Drainol? Bleach!

Never fails, available everywhere. Breathe in that sweet lung dissolving relief: BLEACH*


*Now available in child-deceiving fragrances.

Bring the Bats Back to the Tower

Lamenting the Loss of Interesting Vampires in Film

Back in my imaginary play days, executing a perfect vampire snarl was important. One evening was particularly triumphant when down in my friend’s basement (our headquarters of method acting from the ages of 5-13) I managed to frighten her little sister bad enough to snap her out of character. Your teeth, she told me. You really look like a vampire. Hell yes. It was the stuff of big black cobweb dreams.

Maybe it’s because I’m descended from Transylvanian dwellers, but I cannot remember ever not being obsessed with vampires. My dedication over the last two decades have led through some pretty sweet ups, but mostly shame spiraling lows. If there’s one thing an undeadophile learns over the years, it’s that mainstream culture and even subculture doesn’t actually understand what’s cool about vampires.

The most blazingly horrific example of this misperception is evident in film. The last great vampire film, in my opinion, was Interview with the Vampire (1994). The last sweet vampire film was the first Blade (1998). I don’t have any issues with Kate Beckinsale personally, but the Underworld (2003, 2006) flicks blow. Only guys like those movies, and it has nothing to do with the actual vampires. I can’t remember what happened in John Carpenter’s Vampires (1998) and Van Helsing (2004) was the saddest example of 21^st Century CGI I’d seen up to that point, not to mention Kate Beckinsale embarrassed herself again with her sesame street Romanian accent. I actually own Dracula 2000 (2000). It entertains me to no end; Gerard Butler is a hot Scottish bastard, and it contains one of the funniest sex scenes I have ever seen, but the film is, well, a flick.

In terms of literature, I totally bought into the Vampire Chronicles, but I am well aware that Anne Rice missed her shit plenty of times. At her best, though, she created some of the most interesting immortals to hit the streets. It’s her fault that I expect a certain amount of depth from vampires, but Hollywood’s only concern is how high a bloodsucker can kick in latex. Hollywood’s startling lack of imagination is evident in several film genres, but when it comes to vampires they have totally crapped out on ideas. Vampires in leather and latex were cool, for two movies, but now it is mind numbingly boring. Why would an immortal choose to wear two of the most uncomfortable materials in creation (aside from polyester and 100% wool)? And don’t get me started on vampires using guns, though this isn’t as annoying as female vampires being delegated to plummeting neck lines and stilettos (stilettos are an affliction affecting many action heroines of the last five years or so, but that’s a whole other complaint).

Any sense of artistic purpose has long since fled from vampire cinema. I’m not really sure where it went, but I am sure it has to do with the fact that in this day and age when things are scientifically explained away, vampires are not taken seriously, and when a subject is dismissed like that, no one takes the care to present it with any real style. With the movie industry’s penchant for book adaptations and remakes, I’d even be grateful for another version of Dracula.
Scratch that, Gary Oldman needs to play another vampire. Yes! Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) is rife with issues, but not all of the casting is bad, and there are some amazing visuals. Stunning visuals are key in vampire films (see also: Interview with the Vampire). One of my favorite scenes ever in all of horror cinema takes place near the end of the film when Dracula is in bat-like form. He is confronted by Van Helsing and the other men, crucifix in his face: “Look what your God has done to me,” he utters before stomping his foot and sending the cross into flames. The Count then backs up into a closet and into the darkness where only the red of his eyes are visible. When he steps back out, the shape of his form is evident, but there are only rats. He opens his arms, and then the rats all drop to the floor and flee the room.

The Good Old Days:

Coppola’s adaptation is hands down far more amusing than the actual book. Stoker cannot write, and his one famous book is only good for one read. Pumping it up with nipples and a werewolf raping a half-conscious redhead is just something you have to do to get things snapping. But really, it’s Oldman who captains that ship. His Romanian is flawless, his sinister cackle inimitable, and his chameleon-like switch from old Count to young is mind blowing. Which brings me to one of my main points, vampires should be played by talented actors. Hell, playing a vampire can make an actor better. Lestat is one of the few times Tom Cruise ever disappeared into a role, and it made the world a better place. I’ve never longed for Tom Cruise more than when I sat through the heart piercingly awful adaptation of Queen of the Damned (2002). As far as I’m concerned Aaliyah made one film (Romeo Must Die, 2000). How a group of people could take arguably one of the best books in the Vampire Chronicles and turn it into a holocaust of poor decision-making is beyond me. Interview is a shining example of an adaptation gone good, and if Tom Cruise can put on a blonde wig what the hell is Stuart who-the-hell-are-you Townsend’s excuse? It’s not about being painstakingly accurate, it’s about paying attention to facts such as: Lestat having blonde hair is perhaps one of the character’s most defining characteristics. Gary Oldman wouldn’t even need a wig, he would just will his hair blonde.

Further Example of Talented Actor as Vampire: Klaus Kinski in Herzog's "Nosferatu the Vampyre"

But back to film, and the interesting vampires NOT showing up. Currently there are two upcoming vampire flicks I am tracking, as yet undecided as to whether I can stomach seeing either in theatres. In December the Will Smith vehicle, I Am Legend will arrive. Having not actually read the 1954 novel, I cannot yet comment on how much it’s been destroyed, but the use of computer effects in the preview scares me. Can Smith be as funny as Charleton Heston was in Omega Man, 1971 (a half-assed adaptation)? Can he be better? I can only pray the appearance of the undead is not too embarrassing. Also on the way is 30 Days of Night, a comic book adaptation set for release in October. While the comic book mini series sounds interesting, the film stars Josh Hartnett, so…what it all comes down to is, I’ll probably end up reading more vampire lit than watching a new vampire flick in the upcoming year. Perhaps animation is a better home for vampires at this time.

Someone give me a film crew, a handful of good actors, dentures and fake blood. I could rock your world.

She's the One: Why Carina Round Should Own You

The best musical discoveries are accidents. You catch a song on the radio one morning, and the rest of the day it’s all you can think about. Or perhaps by some horrific chance you are forced to watch MTV for longer than .234 seconds and you see something you actually enjoy and must know where you can find more. Or better yet, you’re flipping through the used CD bin at one of the last great record stores in the state and you see an album cover that speaks to you. Now, it’s quite rare these days that any album cover is worth looking at for longer than it takes to read the title, but now and then some kind of magic does happen.

In this last great record store, you happen upon a disc that is consumed by a woman’s face. She is at first a seemingly standard looking pale and curly haired songstress, but something about the way she’s looking at you through the cheap plastic of the CD case hooks you and stills your rapid-fire hand. Her defiant yet calm expression directs your eyes to her name, Carina Round. Because in the past you have purchased unknown discs on a whim and been sorely disappointed, you lose your nerve a moment and slip her album back into oblivion. But as you do this, a sticker with a glowing review stays your hand: “The best album of the year, hands down.” Well, your brain tells you, how bad could it possibly be? Discovering Carina Round, one of the best secrets around, only cost me $4.99.

Because musical tastes are varied, I may not sway some by merely stating that Round’s sound is simply awesome. In general, lazy journalists compare her to PJ Harvey, which is code for “awesome guitar-based rock female vocalist.” If I had to hold someone’s hand and compare this particular songstress, I’d say she leans more toward the Patti Smith end of the spectrum, with a healthy dash of Jeff Buckley and bad assness.

The more I hear and the more I read about this woman, it is clear that she’s just a badass bitch. But none of y’all know it. Normally, I’m all for being a pretentious, secretive music snob, but when I hear that this woman is hand-making CDs and selling them on Ebay so she can get her guitar fixed despite the fact that she is signed to a major label (a certain label who delayed her third album for over a year without cause), it is clear that it would be beneficial to her creativity if a healthy amount of musically inclined folks were clued in. One thing is clear; Carina Round’s record company has no idea what to do with her. Alleged singles have come and gone with nary a radio debut or three song promo. She has in some measure or another unleashed several videos for songs on her new record, but only on her myspace page. Such goodies are fantastic for die-hard fans like me, but it’s hardly conducive to an artist trying to make herself known in the world to people who aren’t actively looking.

This is me clueing you in. If you enjoy talent, you will enjoy Carina Round. You don’t need a bio, you need album titles. I would recommend starting with her second album The DisconnectionFirst Blood Mystery (2001), is also wonderful, but hardly a carbon copy (talented people tend to do that, make albums that sound different). (2004). This is the album I was lucky enough to stumble upon. I feel it is a good representation of her true sound. Her first album, It’s a bit more stripped down, and the content is not unlike witnessing a person with their chest sliced open and quite willingly allowing everyone to stare. It’s a difficult introduction, but once you dive in it’s pure bliss. The Disconnection, while maintaining her radiantly intelligent and poetic writing style, exhibits more optimism and more rock n’ roll. Make no mistake, Carina Round can rock out. Her recently released and no less enjoyable album Slow Motion Addict (2007) ups the squeal factor, which is a plus. I have recently begun to believe that she secretly listens to death metal, which is awesome. It is difficult, however, to get over the fact that Glen Ballard, of Alanis Morissette- Jagged Little Pill fame, co-produced this new endeavor. While I do not feel that he obviously altered Round’s style, I can’t shake the feeling that she would have left things a lot less smooth. It’s hard not to picture the one company meeting where they actually took the time to give a shit about her, and some Simple Life watching leech suggested they get the one producer who can make women marketable. But Slow Motion Addict ain’t no top 40 record, and ultimately, if her success keeps mounting as steadily as it has been Addict will be many a person’s actual introduction to this wonderful Brit. Hell, it’s probably the only album you can physically find at the record store at this point.

I haven’t had the pleasure yet, but I would bet my life that seeing Carina Round live would be the ultimate introduction, and I greatly envy all those Los Angeles residents who have had her all to themselves for the past year or so. Now it seems that they will have to share, as she is embarking on a semi-national tour with The Cinematics (they’re Scottish!). Carina Round on the road will be unstoppable, she will outshine the bands/performers she opens for because she is true fire and release on stage. Youtube her, Google her, whatever. If you don’t agree with me, you are dead inside. Sorry to be the first one to tell you.


Trust me: (note: this blog hates me and I can't remove the duplicate video)

IN OTHER NEWS

SCHOOLS USE NEW TACTICS FOR SEX EDUCATION

by Derek Loozander

08.05.07

EVERYWHERE, USA. Disappointed by their students' superior knowledge of sexuality, public school officials across the nation have again begun to promote abstinence in their campaigns for sexual awareness. Like campaigns of the past, the new campaigns WILL utilize fear to instill (brainwash) traditional presbyterian values within the minds of America's youth, however, instead of simply warning students, educators effectively intend to frighten them to near-death by showing them the following picture:

BREAKING NEWS

ODE TO THE AMPUTEE

by Derek Loozander 

08.05.07

Legless woman with messy hair excitedly departs a bad relationship.

EVERYWHERE, USA. So for those of you non-adventureseome white trash losers out there (in the midwest) who don't know, moving to a new city is like dumping somebody.

Sometimes you're overjoyed. Sometimes your significant other has bound you within their CHAINS for far too long and you've been FANTASIZING about the day when you finally succeed in GNAWING through that last hunk of FLESH - that last bundle of tendons - until you finally sever your own ARM and break FREE. Ahh, the joys of roaming the earth as an AMPUTEE - free to drip BLOOD out of your STUMP upon whatever land YOU CHOOSE! 'Tis beautiful - like a FUCKING GREEK PLAY...

CHORUS: Rejoice!

Then you get to your new place, and its everything you dreamed of.......until you settle. All of a sudden things that intrigued you start getting old, and then irritating. You start to question if its just you, but it doesn't really matter, because even if it is you're still uncomfortable. I swear, stagnancy is the downfall of our species. Look at our age-old mating habits. Look at our ripple-less gene pool. Look at Britney Spears. After a few years you get the itch to gnaw off that other arm and before you know it its done; you're roaming the earth again as a torso with legs and a head (and crazy hair that you can no longer pick up a brush to comb)...

CHORUS: Rejoice!

Now, should you even make it to another place your ever-increasingly neurotic and cynical ass must ask of itself some questions:

• Who wants a torso with legs and a head and crazy hair?
  
• If somebody does, what might you chew off to get away from this person?
  
• How will you get to the next shitty relationship when you only have one leg?
  

Well, I don't know about y'all, but I am an OPTIMIST; where there's a WILL there is a fucking WAY, GOD DAMN IT! And God Forbid anybody should DARE block that path because I will KICK THEIR ASS with my FUCKING TONGUE if thats all I have LEFT!  

Sometimes though, after moving/dumping, you're not overjoyed, because at a certain point you start to realize that after much more moving there will be nothing left of you. That no place is perfect. That each place you've lived hasn't necessarily been bad, it just hasn't fulfilled your needs, and that the consequence of moving forward, is having to leave things behind. And even though you're carrying more baggage than ever, your arms are strong because of it (or your.... teeth - or whatever, since you don't have arms) and you just start to hope that one day you will find a place where you can put that stuff down and recuperate...

And that then, like in a Greek Fucking Play, The Chorus will rejoice (and that also your leg and arms will grow back, so you can comb your hair).

What ever happened to BBMak?

Don't you wish they were back here? Baby?

She's Coming...

PJ HARVEY- WHITE CHALK- SEPTEMBER 24TH

sneak peak: When Under Ether

track listing:
1. The Devil
2. Dear Darkness
3. Grow Grow Grow
4. When Under Ether
5. White Chalk
6. Broken Harp
7. Silence
8. To Talk To You
9. The Piano
10. Before Departure
11. The Mountain

And it makes me realize that I've been missing her.

Colonic anyone? Anyone? ...no really

I've come to a decision.

I'm going to get a colonic. I know what you're thinking. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

No doubt you've heard about all the cool celebs getting them? I'm sure Paris, Lindsay, Nicole and the like get them on a daily basis to maintain their "healthy glow", but then again that could also be from something else.
()

For some years now I have been secretly curious about the mysterious world of colonics. The thing is, the stories I hear are so mixed that I still don't know what to make of them. I have heard horror stories wherein one feels violated, molested and repulsed. But I have also heard magical-fairytale-like encounters wherein beautiful unicorns are set free from the vestibules of one's inner dark being . Some have called the experience traumatizing, while others have bought packages for future sessions.

I'm sure you see my dilemma. I can't live my life not knowing. I'm what you call an experiential learner and I need to know. Don't worry, I'll be doing my research.

There you have it. I've put it down in the blog-universe, therefor this is a binding (HA!) contract. I will promise to document the experience, but first I have to find a center near me. But how can I do such a thing? Wait! I know.... SpaFinder can help. :)


The picture is quite appropriate, don't you think?

You should check this site out though, for real. I've gotten gift certificates through them. They make a great gift you can choose from TONS of spas that take the certificate.

Do it for real, bitch!

Werner Herzog's Rescue Dawn and the Benefits of Actual Reality in Film

My former film teacher, Robert T. Eberwein, who happens to be one of the greatest living film scholars you haven’t heard about, often lamented in class that the prevalence of CGI in film today greatly interrupts the viewing experience. Even the best CGI money can buy will force the audience to come out of the moment and think, wow, that was some good special effects. There’s hardly a way to see a film these days, especially this deep into the summer months, that doesn’t bring about such a momentary, if not several momentary interruptions of either “Wow” or “Dear God, that looked terrible. Who the hell got paid for that crap?”

Last week, I had the pleasure of seeing the a film with no computerized effects that isn’t either an indie-film family drama or boy-meets-girl but isn’t-ready-for-commitment so will-they-stay-together type thing. After months of constant release date changes, Werner Herzog’s Rescue Dawn was released. It was a priority viewing primarily due to the presence of the great Christian Bale, but also because I am finally being clued into the ways of Herzog. Bale’s utterly natural performance, bizarre accent and all, is magic. In fact, his accent alone should banish any further Academy Award Ceremonies. Every time I see a new Christian Bale performance I cackle at the idea that some bunch of studio execs actually believed that Leonardo DiCaprio, as an actor (but also as a name) was the better man to portray yuppie sociopath, Patrick Bateman in 2000’s American Psycho. Seriously? I could maybe see DiCaprio pulling off the role now, but Bale owned it then, and he still cartwheels miles around DiCaprio. He pretty much is better than everyone.

But I digress because the point of my musings is not the superhuman talent czar that is Christian Bale, but Werner Herzog’s breath-of-fresh-air film. In a brief synopsis, the film sounds like another prison break/war film. An Air Force pilot is shot down on his first mission during the Vietnam War, and is interned in a Viet Cong run prison camp. Even if you learn that this particular tale is based on actual events, so what? What war film isn’t? Perhaps it peeks your interest a smidge more when you learn that the main character, Dieter Dengler, is a German-born American whose village was bombed by the U.S. during World War II, and as his hometown was being laid to waste all he could think about were the amazing fighter planes and how he needed to fly. Dengler, played brilliantly by Christian Bale, doesn’t operate like everybody else. His funny accent aside, it becomes increasingly clear as the film progresses that this human being thrives on the elusive emotion of unabashedly pure hope. The feeling of hope in Rescue Dawn feels unique because Dengler isn't constantly compelled to explain his gut instinct. It’s just a given for him. Unlike his fellow captives, it would never even occur to him to just give in and sit around for two-plus years. He is immediately formulating an escape plan, utterly undeterred by warnings of death by the hands of the Viet Cong or the perilous jungle. Perhaps it’s easy for me to say from the comfort of a theater seat, but Dengler’s determination and resilience was infectious and it was almost difficult to understand why the other POWs were so hesitant. The lack of doubt and fear is why Dengler lived to tell his tale.
A lack of doubt and fear must also be the reason why Christian Bale lived to discuss this film in interviews. Werner Herzog clearly does not make sure to provide trailers and craft service tables for his actors. “Dedication” is only one of the words that stuck out in my mind as I watched Christian Bale hanging upside down with an ant’s nest tied to his face while an angry guard spun him around in dizzying circles. He is dragged on his ass through dirt, and barefoot 98% of the time. Steve Zahn never warmed my heart more than as the scruffy-bearded, under-fed Duane, whom Dieter makes a point to look out for. He just looks so exhaustedly pathetic and small. Jeremy Davies gives the performance of his career as the just cracked-up Gene. His skeletal frame rivals that of Bale’s in The Machinist.

There is no studio lot in all of Hollywood that could capture the unpredictability of a true jungle, and it shows onscreen as you watch these startlingly malnourished men plunging desperately through the Vietnamese landscape (though apparently this was filmed in Thailand). The oppressive amount of foliage, large insects, rivers suddenly shifting into waterfalls, monsoon season; it’s just another day in Laos, baby. These examples onscreen prove that no computer whiz can ever truly match the intensity of reality. No blue screen can beat hauling a camera crew up a mountain, period. I dare anyone to prove me wrong.

I am overjoyed that in the summer of 2007 I sat through an epic film that had not ONE shred of CGI. I can’t say it enough! Who among you doesn’t want that same feeling? A recent reviewer in, I believe, Entertainment Weekly stated that she found Bale’s weight loss in the film to be obscene because there are millions of starving people in the world who don’t have the luxury of voluntary weight fluxuation. I imagine she was referencing his phenomenal portrayal in The Machinist as well. Maybe I’d give that one to her if she worked for FEMA, but she’s a film reviewer! If as a film critic you take issue with authenticity and skill, please quit and give me your job! I could really use it to pay off my mounting student loans.

Give me Christian Bale’s skeletal ass and you can keep all 145 minutes of Transformers. That film, being the antithesis of Rescue Dawn, was maybe enjoyable for the first forty-five minutes. God save Shia LeBeouf from such drawn-the-hell-out pointless Michael Bay crap. I loved Transformers the cartoon, cartoon being the operative word in the sentence. How complicated does Optimus Prime need to look? Christian Bale could look like a robot if he wanted to. Actually he already did that in American Psycho, so one more point for team Bale. My point: The action in Rescue Dawn trounces Transformers. Good filmmaking will wow you with action while stimulating the part of your brain that generates thought and emotion. I shouldn’t be half asleep practically sprawled out on the seat next to me while an epic showdown between Megatron and Optimus Prime goes down. I haven’t been that bored since I saw the first XXX movie with Vin “Make it Stop” Diesel, and I was stoned.