To Boldly Go...and All That Shit...

So anyway, enough fiddle-fucking around I suppose. So...Star Trek. Has anyone not seen it yet? No? Good...then I can proceed without fear of pissing on anyone's Corn Flakes. So where to begin. I suppose HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT is as good a place as any! My initial reaction after my first viewing was nothing short of complete and total geek-gasm in my pants. Seriously...the last time I had a smile like that on my face, my wife had just finished...er, uh, ummmmmm...never mind. But I thought, "No...I'll wait. I'll save my thoughts and reactions until I've had a second viewing. You know Mike, be a little more objective once you've had a second run at absorbing everything."

Did that work out like I planned. Yeah, um...not so much no (Sorry, thanks for playing - here's a lovely parting gift for you. What do we have for our contestant today Bill? Why it's a toaster Bob...that you can FUCK!). In all seriousness though, you'd have to be one bitter, hostile and cold motherfucker not to find something awesome to love in this new iteration on the adventures of Captain James T. I-Should-Totally-Have-Lost-My-Cock-To-Space-Chlamydia-By-Now Kirk and Co. In Insurrection, Ad'har Ru'afu insultingly commented that the Federation was old. And so too it seemed was Star Trek after the complete and utter box-office failure that was Nemesis (still largely the fault of Paramount's advertising department if you ask me), and Enterprise getting cut off after four struggling seasons. Prior to this film, the longest gap between any two Star Trek films was four years (between Insurrection and Nemesis), and averaged 2-and-a-half years. So it would seem, seven really is a lucky number.

So, from the minds of wunder-producer/director/writer J.J. Abrahms, and hit-or-miss screenwriters Alex Kurtzman & Roberto Orci (I mean really...The Island?!) comes a...restart/reboot/re-imagining of one of the most (arguably, I suppose) beloved ideas (sci-fi or otherwise) of at least the last century. I must admit, I hate this whole Hollywood concept of reboots/re-imaginings - there's just something so fake about it. With a few exceptions (this film being one of them), it demonstrates an unnerving laziness and lack of originality worming its way through the film and television industry. Remakes are nothing new in La La Land. There are 3 film versions and one TV miniseries about Beau Geste, and about 15 or so variations on Jane Eyre. I suppose that's the more "high-brow" end of the spectrum. Then there's the polar opposite, the likes of say...Friday the 13th. A film who just last year saw a "remake/re-imagining" even though the original is not even 30 years old and spawned 9 sequels.

Wait a minute...30 years/9 sequels - ok...that's weird. I just used that little factoid to piss all over one franchise when the exact same rule (or nearly so) applies to the subject at hand. Or at least the Star Trek film universe anyway. I suppose the difference is that one is an intelligent, engaging, and optimistic view of the future of humanity, and the other is about a mutant, all-pro linebacker in a hockey mask that likes to hack n' slash co-ed's whilst their boobies be showin'. Anyway, to get back on track, Star Trek as a concept has been desperately in need of a new set of eyes for a while - fresh blood if you will. I say they got it in spades. Dicking around with the space-time continuum is a bit of an old hat in the Trek universe. So, initially, hearing that this story was another time travel plot met with many a groan throughout fandom. But I think the take Abrahms and Co. took with it is actually quite refreshing. It basically allowed them to tell an origins story, and do it essentially with a clean slate - not always having to adhere to the 'oh-so-precious' Trek canon that so many Trekkies (literally in some cases I think) live their lives by. One of the really cool things (something I think some of the more hostile fans haven't considered) is that some or perhaps even most of the adventures we know this crew has already had can still happen - it may happen a little differently, but they'll still happen. Some of them have to happen - V'Ger is still on it's way, so is the whale probe; and Khan is out there...somewhere. The possiblities are almost endless. This gamble of theirs also allowed them to completely take some things that most superfans (and even those casually acquainted with Trek) take for granted and completely turn them on their heads - even one or two actual "Holy Fuck" moments.

I think one of the first of those was before production even began. It was that little moment (I think during San Diego Comic Con) almost two years ago or so when Abrahms walked out on stage with Zach Quinto and Leonard Nimoy and announced that the former would be portraying the younger version of the latter and both were going to be in the new Star Trek film (opening Christmas 2008 - yeah...that happened - fucking Paramount!). Generally speaking, I'd guess most of us were somewhere in the neighborhood of "Holy Shit...that's fucking BRILLIANT!!!". Otherwise, the film lay in a sort of "what is it?/good?/bad?" limbo until it was released last month - especially after Paramount announced it was moving the release by six months. Normally a move from winter to summer would indicate that they thought they had something good on their hands. But no one really knew, did they? I'd argue that they had something more than just 'good'...this is downright special. Abrahms has gone somewhere with Trek that even good ol' Gene Roddenberry couldn't seem to muster - he's made a Trek film for everyone.

Star Trek 2009 is a film that opens up the whole Trek universe to a new legion of fans and simultaneously engages and entertains most of the long-established fanbase. It would seem the only one's left feeling as though they just witnessed the rape and murder of their grandma by the family dog are the über-est of the über-Trekkies. Well...they can go back to fucking their blow-up Orion slave-girl love dolls in their mom's basements anytime they want. This Trek essentially took the layout and characters from a long-standing franchise, and cranked up the adrenaline by applying all the dazzle and pizazz of a slam-bang summer action blockbuster. And it works...for what ever reason, it works - gloriously. And it's ballsy. Getting back to those 'holy fuck' moments, what have we got: Obviously the biggest one - they fucking destroyed Vulcan...three words: GIANT BRASS COJONES. Then, let's see...how'sabout: They killed Spock's mom - Jebuth! Then: Spock's bangin' Uhura - Holy Jebuth! And then there's all the little in-jokes and references wallpapering the whole film - off the top of my head, a few of my favorites: Chekov's inability to pronounce V's; Kirk's complete inability to think with anything but his dick; Bones' space paranoia; the obligatory red-shirt demise; the Kobayashi Maru test (lamented by some - but I abso-fuckin'-lutely loved it); that slight "Shatner-esque" moment at the end when Kirk steps onto the bridge for the first time as the 'official' captain of the Enterprise; Captain Pike's seemingly predestined fate to end up in a wheelchair; the disappearance of Captain, er sorry...Admiral Archer's beagle. Some of it's in your face, some of it oh-so-subtle - but I loved so very much of it.

I thought generally, the casting was quite brilliant as well. I'd just like to say that Bruce Greenwood should be in every movie made from now on...ever. I didn't care for the look they gave Anton Yelchin's Chekov (he was brilliant in Terminator:Salvation btw), but the character and mannerisms were dead on. You can add Zoe Saldana to the list of women whom I'd like to suffocate beneath their buttocks...oh and her Uhura wasn't bad either. I found it odd that they cast a Korean to play an iconic Japanese man...but wtf, 'Harold' did a good job with what they gave him. I agree with Brad that it was a little bit of a bummer that we had to sit through half of the film before Simon Pegg's Scotty showed up - but it was well worth the wait (even if they did give him a weird little sidekick). Karl Urban's Bones was awesomely grouchy. If there was a fault to be had, it was that he was the only one who seemed to be trying to emulate their predecessor's performance of the character (that and the fact that he had the wrong eye-color...I know, details...). It was really geek-tastic (at least for me anyway) to see Lenny Nimoy play Spock one more time (even if the part was sort-of shoehorned in). He's been Spock for 43 years, there's a nuance, a sort of I dunno...comfort to seeing him. Like an old blanket your grandmother gave you. He is Spock, and he's always a welcome sight.

I read a comment on a website somewhere (I don't recall where) where someone was griping that the Romulan's all had Australian accents. Well let's examine that for a minute - for one: only two Romulan's had speaking parts in the film; and two: of those - only one is actually Australian; and three: the one that is Australian never spoke with an Australian accent. Bana's Nero, if not for the fact that he was a genocidal bastard hell-bent on his quest for revenge, almost seemed charming. I love his "Hi Christopher...I'm Nero." response to Captain Pike - hilarious. Nero...while not quite on par in villainy as Khan (will there ever be?), was an adequate nemesis for this film, and Bana's performance of him was adequately menacing (maybe too strong of a word) in turn. Then there are the two leads: Kirk and (young) Spock - Chris Pine and Zach Quinto. Boy oh boy...you know, I can't remember the last time, or maybe anytime, that two actors took two pre-established roles, especially ones as iconic as Jim Kirk and Spock, and really made them their own; really without any hint of emulation, parroting, mocking, any of that. I honestly believe that this is the best (as characters) Kirk and Spock have been together since The Voyage Home, maybe (maybe) even Wrath of Khan. It was quite effortless really, I was sold on both of them the second they each (respectively) appeared on screen. Quinto perfectly embodied that long-established conflict between Spock's logic and human nature. And Pine absolutely nailed that smart-ass rebel with a wink-in-his-eye but still commanding presence of James Tiberius Kirk. I simply can not wait for summer of 2011, these folks (the whole ensemble that is) really need to get back on the screen again - they just fit together.

Brad said he took the slightest issue with the 'stopping a supernova/supernova that could destroy the galaxy' plot element. I only slightly agree with half of that. I agree that a little more exposition as to how/why a supernova of the Romulan star could have such an adverse effect on the galaxy could've/would've/should've been included. The other notion, finding fault that they were able to halt the star from going supernova, I dismiss completely. To me, taking issue with that would be to take issue with the entire Star Trek universe. There's a short series of 'prequel' comics released prior to the movie that offer a deal of background detail on the events leading up to the beginning of Star Trek. Amongst those details is that the time-period 'old' Spock came from was roughly 30 or more years after the events of Nemesis. Given where the people of the Federation were technologically in Nemesis, I don't think it's a leap, even a skip really, in logic to think that they would possess the ability to do what Spock was trying to do. Just my two cents on that. Another detail I would've liked to have seen (which would have explained both the Romulan shorn and tat'd heads, as well as Nemo's missing ear tip) would have been the deleted sequence involving Nemo's time in and subsequent escape from the Rura Penthe prison whilst waiting for Spock to arrive in the past (maybe an extended cut DVD in the future eh?).

Then there's Michael Giacchino's score. While it's not quite on par with the grandeur of Jerry's TMP, or even Horner's WOK, it's still quite good. Especially in the context of the film. This score I think had a job to fulfill unique from any of the prior 10. It's really the only one that had to first be an action score, then be a science fiction score. If you listen to the FSM podcast about the new Star Trek from a couple months ago, someone made a comment that Giacchino's main theme sounds more like a counter-line to a stronger 'main' theme. I don't believe I would've put that association together had it not been for that comment - unfortunately, it is a valid point. Still, this new main theme is one of the catchiest fucking things I've heard in a long time. And, I think it's his most solid work to date - perhaps the additional orchestrators (aside from Tim Simonec) had some influence on that. Is Giacchino a busy little fucker lately or what. He's got three big summer scores all within 5 fuckin' weeks of each other. Nobody does that anymore! Anyway, if you head out to jwfan.net and search around there's a discussion thread that lists where all the cues from the score CD fit into the movie, as well as what's missing (somebody's seen this thing waaaaaayyyy too many times already). Essentially, we got a little less than half the score on the CD. Several great bits are missing (about half the ending sequence - including that awesome choral variation of the theme as the Narada gets sucked into the singularity) and some of the cues we did get are incomplete. If you want that awesome main title bit, I think all you need to do is splice the first minute or so from "Enterprising Young Men" to the last 15 seconds from that same cue. Simple as most of it is, I'd still say that overall it's the highlight of my summer movie-going/score listening season so far (still waiting on a few things: Transformers II, Harry Potter, hell even Silvestri's G.I.Joe could be interesting - oh and let's not forget Maestro Goldenthal's return to mainstream film with Mike Mann's Public Enemies...yea!).

Ok, so...you wanted it, you got it ("mostly..."). That's most of my thoughts on Star Trek - to sum up...I need a throwrag. I say that's most of my thoughts because I'm certain I have enough for another paragraph (or five) but I don't want to drive you guys totally crazy (or is that crazier?). I'll be back in a bit with my thoughts on Up (which by the way will be Der Monkey's first trip to the movie theater, here in a couple of weeks...how cool is that!)...after I've had a chance to see it again - in 3D!

Yep...He's My Son!

So anyway, over the weekend my son made a rather peculiar announcement to the Missus and I. He came into the living room and proclaimed:

"Michael want pussy." (btw - to him cat is kitty, so...)

Now...I know parents shouldn't react overly positive or negative to things like that...but this time, we just couldn't help it. We broke out into complete and total hysterics. Ok, so I know...I'm a horny little fucker - but I know I've never said that in front of him...at least not in that context! The laughter didn't last long though...eventually we stopped and asked him to clarify what he was asking for. But, he just continued repeating:

"Michael want pussy."

"Michael want pussy."

"MICHAEL WANT PUSSY!!!"

Surely that can't be what it sounds like. Daddy want pussy too, but I can't believe for a second that we're talking about the same thing here. Whatever the hell it is he really wants it. We continued to quiz him on what it was he was after. Frustrated, he ran into the kitchen, opened the refridgerator, and returned with...

...a 2-liter of PEPSI!!!

So now that makes pussy, cock, and fag (he can't pronounce the "l's" in flag and clock yet - we're working on it) ...he goes to a Lutheran day care - he's gonna make someone fucking faint...or cry...or maybe both!

Of Fanboys and Film Critics (or: Just Shut Up and Enjoy the Fucking Movie Already)

So anyway, I caught a mid-day showing of Wolverine on Friday. I'll get to my thoughts on that in a minute - though that shouldn't imply any negative connotations, I actually enjoyed the hell out of it - but first I wanted to share my thoughts on a couple of things.

As my title would suggest, I've got a few words regarding a couple of very specific groups out there amongst the populous. But allow me to proceed to commence to start to begin by saying that I've always felt there was a distinguishable difference between the concepts of a 'film' and a 'movie'. I've never really tried to elaborate on those differences, mostly because I've never been certain that it was something I possessed the ability to explain thoroughly. But seeing Wolverine on Friday, combined with the lackluster reviewing it received has motivated me to at least try. I suppose as evidence, I submit to you the work of Steven Spielberg. Or more specifically - Steven Spielberg in 1993. That year we got both Jurassic Park, one of the top grossing films of all time, and also Schindler's List, considered by many to be the man's finest achievement behind the camera. Essentially yes, a film and a movie are the same thing - a series of images on celluloid film stock, run through a reel-to-reel projector at 24 frames per second, that present recorded action with sound. I believe both can be enjoyed as a source of entertainment equally, but in the end, one is more a representation of artistry and craft, where the other is based more on its aesthetic escapist entertainment value. In the prior example, I offer that Schindler's List is a 'film' at the concept's finest, whereas Jurassic Park is a 'movie' at its most enjoyable levels. For another example, I suggest that you consider the typical five Best Picture nominees from the Oscars each year. Going back as far as your memory will take you, how many "movies" can you recall receiving a nomination. Going back a mere decade, only two jump out in my mind: Chicago, and Gladiator (and even then, I think Gladiator treads the line a bit). Go back another decade and you average about one a year (many of those, again, treading the line between the two).

What does this have to do with my title? Well...you may or may not have noticed that Wolverine more or less got slaughtered by the critics (those lovely adamantium claws were no match for the wicked, printed tongue lashing - of death - provided by a majority of the critics out there). This got me thinking, or at least reaffirmed an already held belief that critics...don't like movies. That's it in a nutshell - film critics are precisely that - FILM critics. They don't like movies...they can't. Far too many "horrible" movies have made too much money at the box office, despite critical bashing, to suggest otherwise. This is why I hate critics. Yet, at the same time, I can't help but catch early reviews of flicks I've been really wanting to see to see what the "experts" think of them. It's an interesting dichotomy really: I hate critics and could care less what they think...but I have to know what they think prior to the film's/movie's release in theaters. What is a critic really? There's the old cliche that a critic is essentially a failed filmmaker. Someone who couldn't cut it making their own films, so they choose to tear apart everyone else's. Is that really so inaccurate? I don't know much about the biographies of any of the major critics out there, but I'd be willing to bet that at least 90% of them went to film school, and sucked ass at it!

Seems to me film critics, I dunno, lack the gene necessary to just sit down and lap up 120 minutes worth (or less) of mindless entertainment. They can't do it...they CAN'T FUCKING DO IT!!! They see a film like Wolverine, who's sole purpose is to pack in crowds of movie-goers, elicit 2-hours worth of 'ooh's' and 'ah's', rake in oodles and oodles of cash for the production studio, and just basically entertain the masses - and they don't fucking get it! Movies, generally speaking, aren't meant to elicit any deep or philosophical thought from audiences - so stop trying! The deepest thought anyone should get out of your typical summer blockbuster is, "Gee, I wonder how the FX guys got the giant lizard robot's cock to morph into the death ray that destroyed Düsseldorf so realistically?! That was fucking AWESOME!!!" THAT'S IT...that's all the deeper anyone needs to get!!! It's like trying to make Nietzche out of fucking Sesame Street!!! STOP IT! BAD MONKEY! No banana for you. So, my theory...film critics don't know how to like movies - that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Now I just have to figure out how to stop caring.

Then there's the other subject...fanboys. As geeked out as I and the rest of you (all three of you) are about music and movies and such, I would offer that none of us really qualifies as...a fanboy! Sure, we collectively know just about all there is to know about the worlds of Star Wars, Star Trek, general Sci Fi, comics, movies, music, and what not, but I feel safe in asserting that none of us is truly what one might call - Hardcore! Have any of us showed up at a midnight premiere of a Star Wars prequel in full Jedi get-up (with homemade lightsabers)? Have any of us gone to a Comic Con or Trek Con in full Klingon garb, fluent in the language? I doubt it. We like these things, we love these things, we live these things, but they don't own us. Then...there are the fanboys. The basement troll dweebs that can relate to anyone the entire history of every major X-men character since 19-dickety two. The WoW mongers who know the schematic details of every iteration of the Starship Enterprise better than any chief engineer who's ever served on one. You've seen them...you've mocked them...you've maybe even envied them ever so slightly...but, you are not one of them! I don't want to be a fanboy. They're, in a word...scary! Just check out a talkback board on a fansite like Ain't It Cool News. These are a group of people that essentially collectively comprise (I would guess) 1/1000 of the movie going/tv viewing population - yet, every little detail about Comic Movie X, or SciFi T.V. Show Beta: The Next Penetration that doesn't conform to their particular vision of how it should have been made meets with thrashing after thrashing of criticism and general disgust. It would be absolutely hilarious how insane some of the folks are...if it weren't so pathetic. Opinions...are like assholes. Everyone has them - and they're usually full of shit! Fanboys aren't that indifferent from film critics - they all think they know exactly how things should be. Trouble is, they wouldn't really know a good thing if it was sitting on their faces! And you would think after reading comments from your average talkbacker that they believe their particular opinion on any given subject ranks somewhere on par with God. So really, just shut up and enjoy the fucking movie already - or quit yer bitchin' and go find another fucking hobby!

Generally speaking, I hate the suits in Hollywood as much as the next guy. But I also know that for the most part they are good at putting the money where it belongs (just don't let them make any actual creative decisions; I'm looking at you Weinstein's - that's how clusterfucks like Battlefield Earth and Pearl Harbor get made). I love that we live in a society where anyone can publicly voice their opinion on anything. I just wish there were some way to make certain people understand when it's a good time to speak, and when they need to shut the fuck up! In the end it's simple - if you can make it better...go fucking do it!!! Learn to quit analyzing, or quit fucking watching it! If Anus M. Critic or fucky_mclumphead_talkbacker REALLY knew anything...they'd be the one's cashing in on my movie-going dollar. But they don't...which brings me back to Wolverine. I don't know enough about the history of X-men to call it out on all its flaws and problems. I like to think I know just enough about movies and film making to know that I, nor anyone else for that matter, has any business judging this on 'film' terms. It's a movie, and a really entertaining one. I can't help but be a little gay for Hugh Jackman in this role...he was really born for it. I'm so glad Dougray Scott walked from the first X-men, so that Jackman could step into the role. Really, I can't think of anyone that could pull it off so awesomely well. Firstly, let me say that, yes, it's obvious that the production values of the earlier films (particularly the first two) aren't as present in this newest installment. But...who gives a shit. I can't think of any moment in particular that pulled me out of the film and distracted from my enjoyment of it. I think the resolution of the movie could've been a touch tighter. But it's a prequel of sorts - and there was continuity to consider. A lesson that everyone in Hollywood should have burned into their long-term memory as a result of the Star Wars prequels.

But overall...a solid, and highly entertaining flick! The casting was spot-on, the effects were good to excellent throughout. From a character standpoint it may have been a little over-crowded, but again, it wasn't anything that hindered my entertainment. I was...well...underwhelmed I guess by Harry Gregson-Williams' score. I don't know, I guess I was just expecting something a little more bold, grandiose, and honestly, a little more thematic. I really enjoy HGW, so I'm hoping and praying that he didn't blow his compositional load on Kingdom of Heaven. But overall, the music was good, or at the very least, serviceable. I'd say it's a great start to the summer movie season...pulled in a respectable haul at the box office over the weekend. It's almost a shame really that it's going to get absolutely crushed by Star Trek this weekend. But it's a defeat I'll gladly (or is that giddily) contribute to - goddamn Friday can't get here fast enough!!! Still, putting what I've been ranting about into context - X-men, sort of walks that line between film and movie; I'd easily classify X-men 2 as a film - a highly entertaining film, but still a film. X-men 3 - a movie, and clearly a lesser endeavor than it's predecessors. But consider this - X-men 3, most critically and fanboy...um, -ly(?) despised (why do people hate on Brett Ratner so much? Say what you will of the guy, but generally he does know how to make an entertaining picture) of the trio...

...and also the highest grossing of them as well...

Hrmmm...

...And Don't Call Me 'Shirley'

So anyway, if you follow the film music world much at all, particularly the licensing of said music for CD production, you'll know that Paramount Pictures (a Viacom company) is and has been the stingiest bunch of fuckers this side of a Hasidic fund raiser for the German arts. Or at least, that was the case...until yesterday.

Apparently, LaLa Land Records has broken through Paramount's steel chastity belt (of death - see, sounds scarier, eh?) and come to some sort of arrangement. The details of said arrangement are known only to the fine folks at LaLa Land and Paramount, but the long and short of it is that "the wall" is coming down - and it's beginning with a real doozy!

Beginning May 12th, at 2:00 p.m. local time, orders will be taken for one complete score to what is perhaps the greatest comedy of all time - Airplane!, composed by none other then the late, great Elmer Bernstein. This, near as I can figure, is the comedy score that defined how to really compose for comedy - that is to say that the music plays completely straight against the absurdity on the screen.

Even if you aren't particularly familiar with the score, or of Paramount's steadfast inability to budge on letting their music out, you should be rejoicing at this news...a literal vault of amazing film music is about to be loosed upon the world. Think about it, complete scores from the likes of say: All of the Star Trek films, Johnny's Black Sunday, a reissue of Chinatown, Basil's Hunt for Red October, the list goes on and on...

May is going to be so fucking AWESOME!!!

On the Subject of One Trick Ponies

So anyway, VareseSarabande recently released their tri-annual crop of "club" CD's. If anyone isn't familiar with what this entails...allow me to explain. Three times a year, VareseSarabande, considered by most to be the premier soundtrack record label, release what they call 'Soundtrack Club" CD's. These usually consist of four, sometimes five soundtracks that come either from their vast archive of out-of-print LP's, or music that is new to soundtrack album altogether. In both cases, most if not the complete score is represented in some fashion - and they're available in limited quantities...so they sell out...

...fucking fast!!!

The usual pattern includes one album with 3,000 copies, one or two with either 1,500 or 2,000 copies, and one with a mere 1,000 copies. Any guesses as to which ones go first (regardless of quality of music)?! Thus far, they've released 99 club albums. Of those, 53 are sold out, never to be made available again (thanks to licensing and re-use fees). They include such gems as the "Jerry Goldsmith at 20th Century Fox" 6-disc box set, and Alan Silvestri's Predator (arguably one of the most sought after film scores ever) amongst others too numerous to list here - let's just say I've spent a tidy sum at Varese over the last few years...and that there are a few I missed that I'm royally fucking pissed about. At any rate Varese has a penchant for releasing rare items from the filmographies of Bill Conti, Elmer Bernstein, Jerry Goldsmith, Alex North, Franz Waxman, and even occasionally John Williams.

With this last batch, I picked up three of the four (opting to skip the vintage Waxman score). One was a funky little synth-score to the 1987 film Russkies from James Newton Howard, starring a young Joaquin Phoenix (when he was still going by 'Leaf'). The second was Henry Mancini's Nightwing (a pseudo-horror film from the early 80's about vampire bats and Native Americans - odd combination, but not a terrible film). The third brings us to the title of my post...John Barry's score for the 1979 WWII drama, Hanover Street, starring Harrison Ford. So I suppose my question is thus:

Why the hell are people so goddamned ape-shit crazy for John Fucking Barry?!!!

Don't get me wrong...I like John Barry, at least some of his music anyway. I always liked the music to Hanover Street, which is why I picked it up. But Barry is, well...he's limited, at least to my ears anyway. Lovely as Hanover Street is, you could easily remove the melodic content from the theme(s) and substitute Out of Africa or Dances With Wolves and not get off by more that a beat or two. I mentioned in my last post that Brad and I have a bit of a running joke that John Barry (much like Maurice Jarre) only has three, maybe four scores. There's James Bond - I'll admit, I'm not particularly intimate with the various Bond films he scored, but to my ears they're all kinda "1000 variations on a theme". Then there's big, epic drama Barry - with the likes of The Lion in Winter, Out of Africa, Dances With Wolves, etc. In the end, these all sound relatively identical as well. Different themes and motifs to be sure, but not much variation on harmonic progressions (in fact, Barry seems to be the king of common practice chord progressions - I can't recall the last time I even heard him write something in an inversion). I suppose calling the rest "everything else" seems a bit too all-encompassing (and maybe a little lazy) but I don't want to dig that deep into his repertoire to be more specific.

Much like our dear friend James Horner, Barry seems to have an established bag-o-tricks that he falls back on regularly. I suppose one might argue that what makes him a better composer though is that he hides them better. Like Horner, Barry has a "danger" motif. Well more of an orchestral stab than an actual motif. It usually consists of very shrill, triadic brass stabs, moving this way and that diatonically - I need to be sitting at a piano to analyze them better, as it is, I'm more or less doing this off the top of my head. Anyway, you can hear it plainly in sections of Hanover Street (when ze Germans are coming). There's a lot of it in his older Bond scores, particularly when the bad guy has just done something nefarious. And almost the entire score to Disney's The Black Hole is comprised of those moments (except when it's being all jaunty and British). Still, the man seems to have his admirers amongst the younger generation of Hollywood film composers - just compare the main theme from Hanover sometime to the love theme from Pearl Harbor, ahem...

There are people out there (lots of 'em apparently) that are far more intimately familiar with Barry's musical library than I ever could be with John Williams, or Brad with Jerry Goldsmith. Maybe that's where my lack of understanding comes from - I just haven't heard enough. But then again, if he's been using the same ideas and language for his entire career, then what is it about that language that kept his fandom coming back time and again. Again, I don't know a great deal of Barry's music, but I'd be willing to wager I'd be able to pick him out 9 times out of 10, regardless of what you put on for me to hear. So what is it?! What is it that causes such unwavering adoration? I frankly just don't hear it...some of it's interesting, some quite lovely - but some is just downright boring, and more repetitive than Jim Horner could ever dream of being! If I were to post any of this on a message board, say over a FilmScoreMonthly or Intrada, I'd be strung up faster than an 1890's cattle rustler (I figured that was more PC than some allusion to a black man in the south)!

But for the love of God, don't tell a John Barry nut that he's boring...they'll find you...

...and cut your balls off! (John Barry is GOD, after all!)

Au Revoir, Monsieur - or - ...And Then There Were Three

So anyway, I know it's been a while since I posted a celebrity obit...but since this one falls into a category most of my esteemed readership - all three of you - can relate to, it seemed prudent to write it up. Monsieur Maurice Jarre (again...pronounce zhar-AY) passed away yesterday at the age of 84. As the alternate title of my post suggests, that leaves three of the "old school" of Hollywood film composers remaining - John Williams, John Barry, and Ennio Morricone. Barry has been in retirement for upwards of a decade. Big John is retired for pretty much all but Spielberg's films (though I've still got my fingers, toes, legs, arms and nuts crossed that he'll finish off Harry Potter). As for Signor Morricone, he's as busy as ever...not bad for an 81 year old guy (though after over 500 scores, one has to wonder how much new music the man has left in him). Still, his last American film score was 2000's Mission to Mars (still one of the oddest scores in recent memory) - and he's supposedly scoring (if you can believe it) Quentin Tarantino's Inglorious Basterds...it should be notable if for no other reason than it's Tarantino's first scored film!

Anyway, back to Jarre - I don't imagine that amongst our little group there's a great deal of heartbreak over this news - but still, it is kind of sad. For one, it's one step closer to the end of an era in Hollywood. And also, despite some possibly perceived short-comings as a composer, he did leave a substantial mark in film music - granted, most of it a decade before I was born. Brad and I often joke that Jarre, like Barry, only has three (maybe four) scores. There's the electronic fluff Jarre, then there's the electronic Euro-Jazz-fluff Jarre; there's also the giant David Lean epic Jarre (my favorite), then as for the rest - I suppose it could arguably be lumped into one all-encompassing mish-mash category (though what anyone would begin to call it I'm really not sure...maybe just call it...French!).

I for one have always loved Lawrence of Arabia - if ever there was a score in desperate need of a complete re-recording... Dr. Zhivago also has a beautiful main theme and generally a good score overall. I've always enjoyed Enemy Mine for some unfathomable reason - an oft forgotten Wolfgang Petersen sci-fi film from back in the day when he was a serious filmmaker . It's typical Jarre, but for some reason...it always struck a chord with me (no pun intended). One of his truly great scores, which I posted about a couple years ago, was for Top Secret!. It was perfect scoring for one of the great screwball comedies of all time - and like any great self-respecting film composer, Jarre composed the music complete straight against the absurdity that was happening on screen.

Other recent notables include Ghost, with which one could practically define the concept of tragically romantic; and another personal favorite is A Walk in the Clouds (an interesting little movie from the mid-90's which coincidentally, proves that Keanu Reeves can act). Jarre did romance well - maybe it's all the wine (did I mention he was French). Looking at his filmography, I'd forgotten that he'd scored some pretty serious films over the last couple decades, including Dead Poets Society and Jacob's Ladder (the latter of which I wouldn't mind revisiting just to hear what he did with it). Also of note, Film Score Monthly released a CD of some of his concert work recently which, when I get the opportunity, I'm definitely going to pick up.

At any rate, adieu Msr. Jarre...au revoir and all that! Say hello to Jerry, Basil, Elmer, Michael, and everyone else when you see them.

So, umm...yeah, the Pope is...well...he's retarded.

So anyway, I'm still typing this, so the lightning hasn't smote me yet. I'm sorry, I can't help it...I read this article on CNN.com and I stand fully behind my post title. So the Pope is in Cameroon...or to put it into perspective, he's on the single most AIDS-riddled continent in the world...and he's standing firm that people shouldn't, or rather can't use condoms (them's just big 'ol brass balls there man).

Riiiiiiiggggghhhhhttt!

I can't help but wonder what his stance would be if a gang of natives took turns ass-raping him for a solid 36 hours. Yes, I just made a statement containing references to both the Pontiff, and the butt sex (of the forced variety) - oh yeah, I went there. I'm still waiting for the smiting to begin...wait for it... At any rate, the article does go on to say that his Holiness is considering the holy ramifications of allowing married couples to use condoms should one of them have HIV. So, let me get this straight - it's ok, or at least might be if married couples (and let's be honest for a minute - he's referring to those in the civilized western world) to use a Jimmy hat to not give HIV to each other, but ze darkies (remember, the man is one of ze Germans) - who believe the myth throughout most of the continent that raping virgins will get rid of their AIDS - need to find an alternative to contraception and safe sex because God doesn't want all those precious spermy-men going to waste! Oh for Christ's sake!

See...this is why I don't have a religion. I have faith - I believe there's a bigger picture, I believe there's a higher existence and a higher power. But I can't stand religions. I especially don't like the leaders of religions imposing their ridiculous, ill-informed, and totally archaic beliefs on my life and the way I live it. So...fuck religion!!! I wish I knew where my old man would stand on my beliefs and opinions. He was raised Catholic, but lived life as a twice-a-year Catholic - you know, only went to mass on Christmas and Easter. I have to believe that he'd feel generally the same way I do about things like this. My problem is that there are quite literally over a billion people on the planet that live by this man's word as law!!! WHY?!?! He's just a man - and a man of questionable morality and judgement on top of that (Nazi ties anyone?!). Why, as the world moves ever onward into the 21st century, do the major religions of the world insist on keeping their faithful locked in the beliefs of the dark ages.

I usually like to smack my righteous indignation in the face of Islam at times like these, thinking that maaaaayyyyybe Christianity is getting it's collective shit together. Let's face it, you can almost time to the second when a news piece will come along relaying the tale of some 102-year-old Muslim woman who's being given 1,001 lashes, 60 days in a gulag, and having her tits sawed off because she was in the vicinity of a neighbor's male goat - my total disgust with modern interpretation and practice of Islam is another post altogether. Then a story like this thing with El Sombrero Gigante comes along and (*cue slide whistle playing down*) like a bad case of karmic, guilt-laden erectile dysfunction, the Catholics once again swap our Viagra for a Tylenol with a healthy dose of morality, circa 1452 A.D. on the side.

It's probably a safe assumption that most of us guys have, as the Catholic church would have you believe, committed a holocaust of galactic proportions with all the spermy-men we've wasted in our lifetimes. But remember, the priest with his pecker up the alter boy's ass is fine...so long as he doesn't slap on a Ramses, or pull out! Would it be in bad taste to send the Vatican a Trojan Condom Christmas Tree as a gift this year? I can't help but find it both tragic and simultaneously hilarious that the Church can justify being one of the world's leaders in HIV care and treatment, but won't have fucking anything to do with HIV prevention. Get sick and die in agony - that's cool, but don't you dare do anything to avoid getting sick in the first place - YOU'LL GO STRAIGHT TO HELL MISTER!!! It's interesting the mentality that the Vatican, and American Insurance companies share:

Big Blue Boner Pill - GOOD!!!

Itsy Bitsy No-Make-A-Baby Pill - BAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDD!!!

One-Fingered Rubber Glove - FUGGEDABOUDIT!!!

I dunno - maybe they share board members or something...I better stop before I get really mad - and really get the Big Guy's attention.

"I am a man...in search of a vision!"

So anyway, I'm not really doing any soul searching or anything like that, but I do have a question/problem that I'd like a bit of input on. Allow me a moment to bring everyone that's not Brad (because he already knows most of it) up to speed. My thesis piece was a tone poem for orchestra with optional chorus and electronics called Solar Flare. It was a musical interpretation of a hypothetical stellar event...duh. In addition to wanting to revisit the piece and tighten a few things up, I've decided to make a trilogy of it. I know, I know...why do things always have to be in three's? What can I say, even I'm not immune to Hollywood corporate influences.

At any rate, Solar Flare will comprise the second of the three movements. As a movement it will focus on musical motion, action, and drama. As I said, I want to revisit it - among other things I want to remove the electronic element from it and find a way to suit my needs with the percussion section. I also want to give the violas more to do as I've learned quite a bit about orchestration in the years following my graduate study (shame I didn't learn much during my graduate study!). I also want to put the clarinets back into the piece (for one, it will simplify and justify their inclusion in the other two movements, and also, in retrospect, I think I made an error in judgement leaving them out to begin with). The first movement will be more about sound and texture, and will revolve around the creation of the universe (I was listening to a lot of Close Encounters when the ideas started flowing in). The third movement will be a conceptual combination of the first two and will be called Supernova. I actually had ideas for this immediately after I finished Solar Flare, I just never got very far with it. In a way, the three will represent the beginning, middle, and end of...well...everything!

...and now for my problem...

It's not much of a problem, but it is a problem. I don't know what in the hell to call the first movement. I absolutely refuse to call the first movement The Big Bang. I'm sorry, there's just waaaaaaaayyyyyyyy too many allusions to porno music with that - not to mention that generally speaking, it just sounds kinda gay and tacky! I thought about Genesis, but that might have too much of a religious context for my tastes. It might also bring with it this expectation of liturgical text for the chorus, which is something I really don't want. The chorus in all three movements is optional; their parts will be doubled somewhere in the orchestra (at least to some degree), and they're really only there to add to the aural palette - so, you know...basically just lots of "ah's" and "ooh's". All in all, I'm hoping for somewhere around a combined 30 minutes of music from the whole thing. So, I put it to you (Brad included)...what should I call my first movement? Silly as it sounds, I'm having a hard time moving on with it until I know what to call the fucker! So any and all help will be appreciated.

Oh...and I know my audience/readership/whatever. So I fully expect a deluge of dipshit, bogus, goofball ideas in the comments. Just try, okay, at least try to throw out a legitimate idea or two amongst all the ridicule. Sorry...no prizes for the winner, just a fair amount of genuine gratitude.

Ready...

...GO!!!

p.s. listening to Sneakers whilst typing all this up...I forgot how much Arvo Pärt was in there - and I mean a LOT!!! Sounds like he lifted it directly - not sure he even bothered to change keys (?). I mean seriously, it's like listening to Brad score a slasher film... ;)

Edge of a Knife, Treading Water, On Thin Ice...Pick Your Favorite Euphemism

So anyway, you might have heard about a certain political cartoon in the New York Post that's causing quite the uproar as of late. If not, this, this, and this should catch you up. God almighty, where does a guy even start without pushing at least one frakkin' hot button?! This is such a touchy subject I'm almost afraid to post my thoughts on it. As it is, I'm going to keep this as short and simple as I can as to avoid any and all potential hate mail, protests, and/or rallies that may or may not result from me, Joe M. Whiteman, voicing my opinion on the subject.

To the leaders of the African American community...please give it a rest! Have the expressions "A room full of monkeys could have done a better job" or "Put a group of monkeys in front of a typewriter and eventually they'll type out Shakespeare" never passed your ears...ever? Never?! REALLY?!?!

...wow...

...who knew?

The only thing the cartoonist was guilty of was not having enough sense to show an entire room full of bullet-riddled sapiens rather than the single victim. No one, everybody get that, NO ONE was making any similarities between chimpanzees and our new President (or anyone else in the black community at large). All in all, it was actually a very clever political pun (feel free to call me a lousy, no good, inbred, backwoods, redneck, white-supremacist cracker anytime - I can take it). No one has been oppressed by the cartoon. No one in the cartoon suggested any form of hate against a black individual. It's a pun, plain and simple, so please everyone just step back for a minute...breathe...good. Now, put away your righteous indignation for a moment and realize that it's 2009, a black man is in the Oval Office, workplace of the most powerful man on the planet. Rap stars and basketball players are making more money every year than Solomon ever dreamed of. And there's nary an African American even alive today that even had a grandparent that was a slave. I don't know if I'm feeling so bold as to say, "You've WON!". Oh, I guess I just did...hrmm. Having said all that I fully expect Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson to show up on my front lawn in a few days demanding I apologize to the entire black community.

Chris Rock was right once when he said that, "...there ain't a single white person in America that would change places with me...and I'm RICH!!!". Black people still are treated differently in nearly every business and social situation in this country. More often than not though, I think one would find that that is a result of fear on the part of the white party - fear how the black party (or minority in general) will react to what is being said and/or done. Here comes the part I'm certain many people, both black and white (but particularly black) don't want to hear: If you want to be equal, if you want to end segregation...stop segregating yourselves! That's it! It's that simple...blacks in this country don't want to actually be part of white society as much as they perceive that whites don't want them. Everybody just needs to get along...gay as that sounds. Each generation seems to become more tolerant than the last...which is a great thing! Extremists will never go away - but as the population blossoms, their herds will thin. Look, I understand completely from the historical standpoint where Reverend Al and the NAACP are coming from. It just seems to me they're trying too hard to find hate and malice where there really isn't any. I guess I just find it...distasteful...that I'm not really allowed to voice my opinion openly because of the color of my skin. Holy fuck!!! When did that happen?!

I don't know...I'm just hoping I'll live to see a day when everyone will get the joke and not see it as an excuse to spew hate and nonsense at each other. But I'm fat...so probably not...

Potty Elation (or Sometimes It's Really Awesome To Be Right)

So anyway, here we are - another post. It's kind of like Taco Tuesday - except that it's Monday...weird. Anyway, something glorious happened on Saturday. The Monkey figured out how to use the toilet! He's been more or less fighting us with it for months now. He'd pee, but it was like pulling teeth to get him into the bathroom to do it. Pooping was another story all together. For weeks (maybe months) we've been grinding the mantra "Poopy goes in the potty...not in your pants!!!" into his noggin. Like a good little soldier he would repeat - but the concept wasn't really sinking in. So, day after day, a glorious lump-o-funk would show up in his drawers. A few months back, we had the notion that we should start putting him in his "big boy" underpants everyday to show him how awful it was to have that crap in there - to little avail. One thing I'm thankful to my mom for is that she has this uncanny nose for sniffing out shit. It's scary really - she knows when he's done it...all the way from the other side of the house. All in all I'd say she drew the short straw the day they were handing out the super powers, but what the hell...it's served a purpose.

All the experts say that negative reinforcement is an absolute no-no when it comes to toilet training a child. Saturday morning, after having already changed his clothes three times in the span of about 90 minutes, the monkey stood in the kitchen doorway and proceeded to piss all over himself and the floor. I may have overreacted, but I paddled his ass for it. I felt terrible really - it was like I was scolding the family dog. We then proceeded to make him sit in his little monkey chair with his mess for the better part of a half hour. When we couldn't stand to see him miserable anymore, we changed his clothes...again...and let him go about his monkey business (pun intended).

Not ten minutes later, he was charging into the bathroom to take a piss. Another half-hour later, he did it again. I had no idea how much of a pee machine he was until he repeatedly started using the toilet. He goes 15 or 20 times a day!!! Then again, I'm also convinced he drinks three times his body weight in fluids daily as well. His mommy was the lucky one. She went in to help him once as he stood there pushing and pushing and pushing some more. She tried to explain that if there wasn't any pee in there he didn't have to come in and try. It was at that moment that a big turd plopped onto the floor behind him. Sunday, I became victim to my very first self-fulfilling prophecy. We bought him a new potty chair a week ago thinking he just didn't like getting up on the big seat. Sunday morning, I caught him sitting on the old porcelain throne...pinching one off.

I...was...exstatic!

I said months ago that one day, out of the blue, and for no particular reason, he'd just...get it! Goddamn if I wasn't right! My one regret is that I had to hurt his feelings to get the point across. But that's beside the point now, isn't it?! I was thrilled, flabbergasted - completely overjoyed. I couldn't help myself, I looked into that pot, and I...well, I cried! I can't remember the last time I was so totally happy at something. You just don't know - unless you have a child, you can't!. I'm not trying to take anything away from anyone, but I don't care how many cousins, nieces, nephews, or little brothers and sisters you have...it IS NOT the same. Obviously Der Herr und his Frau are working on it, but you really can't appreciate what I was feeling at that moment until it's your child. You just can not know the relief and elation of seeing months of struggling, months of disappointment, just disappear in a flash. I spent months racking my brain for a solution. Weeks, maybe months in a panic that maybe something was wrong - that we did something horribly wrong with him - that he wasn't right and was going to need special help. And all of that...it just...went away, all with one, adorable little...plop!!!

The plop heard 'round the world.

It was glorious. This may have been the single best weekend of my life - thus far anyway! So, to all the experts who would say I was a horrible parent for doing what I did...fuck you! That's right...fuck you - suck all the dicks. Not just a dick...all of 'em! To Brad...I've got a new potty seat for you if you'd like it (I know it's early, but what the fuck...it's free, right?!). And to anyone without a child, I hope that when you do someday have one, you don't have to go through the potty-hell that I have. And if you ever do...then I wish you all the happyness in the world when you finally get over that giant fuck hill.

Now...teaching him to wipe his little monkey butt...

...awwwwww fuck!