Thursday, May 28, 2020

HEAVY TUNES: Records I Listened to Today, May 28, 2020

'sup, shorty?

  1. The Amps, Pacer (1995, Elektra)
  2. Brainoil, Brainoil (2003, Life Is Abuse)
  3. Minutemen, Buzz or Howl Under the Influence of Heat, (1983, SST)
  4. Yes, The Yes Album (1971, Atlantic)
  5. Dinosaur Jr., Whatever's Cool with Me (1991, Sire)
  6. Operators, EP1 (2014, Last Gang)

Not an 'undo P. why I chose to listen to short records to-day, but it seemed to work out well. I've whined lengthily elsewhere / elsewhen about the bloatation allowed—seemingly mandated by the physical change from the dominant format being LPs, which stop sounding good at about the 23-minute-per-side mark, to the dominant format being CDs, which contain roughly 74 minutes, so I won't do so here, but what if bands just stopped saying things when they ran out of things to say, even if there was some tape left?

Bonus: I looked up the Amps record Pacer, because back in 1996, I considered it maybe the most perfect pop record I'd heard, and I wanted to see what other folks thought of it. And that's when I ran into this heavy slice of Robert Christgau Being a Fucking Creep:

Kim Deal sounds so sane, so unpretentious, so goddamn nice that you want to take her home and give her a shampoo.
ANI DIFRANCO: Not a Pretty Girl (Righteous Babe) Although her mostly female young cult loves this self-starting folk-punk madly, the guys I know smell trouble every time she opens her mouth. This has nothing to do with her face, body, or sense of style. It's her words, the sheer volume of them, jetting out in expressionistic torrents as if she feels free to say any goddamn thing that comes to mind.
Tribe 8, Fist City (Alternative Tentacles): lay back and trust the band, gal--also your own lyrics ("Freedom," "Barnyard Poontang")
There's more, but I don't have the stamina to go through all of his horseshit from January of 1996. Christ(gau), what an asshole.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

HEAVY TUNES: Records I Listened to Today, May 27, 2020

Goin' back to
High school (rah rah rah)
Goin' back to
High school (sis boom bah)
Man ... I don't think so

  1. Public Image Limited, Album (1986, Elektra)
    I had Cassette.
  2. Suicidal Tendencies, Controlled by Hatred / Feel Like Shit ... Déjà Vu (1989, Epic)
    Possibly heavy music's most-punctuated album title?
  3. Autograph, Sign In Please (1984, RCA)
    I never actually had this one, but the single "Turn Up the Radio" was inescapable. The drummer's story turns out to be the stuff of a pretty good hack novel.
  4. Michael Schenker Group, MSG (1981, Chrysalis)
    Reading the tab for the solo in "On and On" turned me on to this masterpiece. No, I couldn't play it.
  5. Jesus Jones, Liquidizer (1989, SBK)
    Glitched out a lot when I was listening, because my internet seems to like the heat as little as I do. It was hard to tell.
  6. New Model Army, Thunder and Consolation (1989, EMI)
    Probably my second-favorite record with a song about green and grey.

No longer musing on account of obligations.

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

HEAVY TUNES: Records I Listened to Today, May 26, 2020

Old Man, Take a Listen to My Records
They're A Lot Like Yours Were

  1. Spanish Love Songs, Brave Faces Everyone (2020, Pure Noise)
    I didn't know "We're not a Christian band, but we sound like a Christian band" was a sound for slow punk bands. But RIYL Mountain Goats / cool-pastor voice, drinking as a personality, shouting along. Recommended by the Strikewave newsletter.
  2. NOBRO, Sick Hustle (2020, Dine Alone / Scary Monsters)
    I also didn't know "We like L7's guitar sounds" was a going concern, but based on the first song, it seems to be. Good stuff, and gets better as the record goes on! This one's from the Turntable Report by Tracy Wilson.
  3. Hole, Celebrity Skin (1998, Geffen)
    Basically a perfect rock record. Ever since it's been out, I've heard a "criticism" that says "Well, Billy Corgan wrote all the songs," which (a) sounds like a depressingly common way to dismiss / diss / disappear Courtney Love, which is something dudes who like to talk about rock records are distressingly prone to do, and (b) is bizarre even if it were true, because what kind of backwards-ass nincompoop do you have to be to think "This combination of performer and songwriter works beautifully together and made a great record" is somehow a bad thing? One thing I love about the record is how confident in your work you have to be to title a poppy rock song "Heaven Tonight" after Cheap Trick wrote a basically perfect poppy rock song and called it "Heaven Tonight". Here, it works. Not sure I'd recommend the move for lesser artists.
  4. Big Business, Mind the Drift (2009, Joyful Noise)
    When I first moved to Oakland, basically all I listened to was this record, in a weird track order that my busted-ass Coby .mp3 player imposed. Hearing it the "right" way is still a little disorienting.
  5. Thin White Rope, Exploring the Axis (1985, Frontier)
    If Sonic Youth grew up listening to country and reading noir, they might have sounded a little like Thin White Rope.

It was a million degrees today, and I worked 11 or so hours. Not a lot of time for music, but I tried to listen to a couple new things, mostly without satisfaction, and then retreated to comforts. Those Hole, Big Business and Thin White Rope records all dominated whole years at one time or another, and it was nice to revisit them and step away from the same records I've been listening to all year long (Obsequiae's The Palms of Sorrowed Kings and El-P's Cancer for Cure, more or less). What are you trying to listen to to shake things up?

Monday, May 25, 2020

HEAVY TUNES: Records I Listened to Today, May 25, 2020

Hush, Keep It Down Down

  1. Bonnie "Prince" Billy, I See a Darkness (1999, Palace Records)
    Got an email from my girlfriend about a Philip Levine poem that included the line "I see the darkness", so my morning was set.
  2. Marriages, Salome (2015, Sargent House)
  3. boygenius, boygenius (2018, Matador)
    I still have trouble with this record, but I really like Phoebe Bridgers' voice.
  4. Angel Olsen, My Woman (2016, Jagjaguwar)
    Esp. "Not Gonna Kill You". Oft-recommended.
  5. Flat Worms, Flat Worms (2017, Castle Face)
    Real solid punk/post-punk!
  6. Red Sparowes, Aphorisms (2008, Sargent House)
  7. Caterwaul, Portent Hue (1990, IRS)
  8. Trans Am, Trans Am (1996, Thrill Jockey)
  9. Oozing Wound, Whatever Forever (2016, Thrill Jockey)
    Probably the best workout band of our time. So many riffs.

Also read and subscribe to Turntable Report, a newsletter by Tracy Wilson.


Friday, April 10, 2020

Toward a Total Theory of the Messenger Bag: From the Specific to the Universal (The Timbuk2 Classic Messenger)

In late 2015 (!), I had tried and failed to follow a huge, somewhat clunky but infinitely endearing messenger bag, the Jandd Hurricane Iniki, with a sleeker, more stylish number, the Timbuk2 Especial Claro. The style didn't work, but the way the company stood behind the failure made me interested in another of their options, so I ended up with the Timbuk2 Classic Messenger, in Medium, all black.

(The most basic, and basic black, bag around: the Timbuk2 Classic Messenger in Medium.)

I used it daily for more than a year, before putting it into a rotation with the Defy Strapped, and later mixing in the Jannd Shana (link tk). (As I review these receipts, I'm shocked that it only had something like fifteen months of unchallenged No. 1 status.) It's a nearly ubiquitous bike-bag option: in the Bay Area, it's still nearly impossible to leave the house (when you can leave the house) and not see one across somebody's back. It is I think, utterly nondescript, in a way that I kind of enjoy. While it's not wildly appropriate for every office environment, I work in California, so its ubiquity and nondescriptness add up to it being more or less invisible.

A very well put together read on a similar bag by Timbuk2 is by David Pouge at the Strategist. While his is not mine, a couple points he makes seem to me to apply perfectly. As he says:

There’s no corner of Timbuk2 bags that hasn’t been nerdily, almost hilariously sweated over

bigger inside than they look outside

(lengthy, detailed breakdown of his version's pockets, which are different than mine, so not relevant, though still fascinating)

Almost everything about this bag is just ... correct. If you have used any other bag, and thought about it, this bag will impress you as having made the right decision in almost every particular. (NOTE: according to some recent reviews, a lot of the things I will praise may have been phased out, so emptor your caveats and all that.)

Materials

(Cordura on the outside, TPU [whatever that is] on the inside.)

Materials are nearly perfect. The outside is the extremely standard Cordura, but a small, tight weave that holds up beautifully to knocks and dings, avoids snags, and doesn't seem to chafe wool or other materials unduly. The inside pockets are on a fabric panel that's made from a nice, light-colored (grey) smooth "packcloth" I guess they call it that isn't hard to wipe clean and is hard to stain, both of which, in my life, are great. There's also a "TPU" liner which helps keep things waterproof, and is even more wipeable. And only after five years has the TPU started to crack at all.

(Minor cracking of the lining after 5ish years.)

Straps

Not a ton to say here. Shoulder strap: you never notice it. This is good! If you notice a shoulder strap, it's probably because it's binding or chafing or pinching or something, or too slick so the bag slides around too much (like the Defy strap), or made from a wide enough weave to get torn up by the available velcro, like the new Jandd strap. This shoulder strap has none of those problems. It's just there, it's got a little pad on it that keeps pain from happening, it all just works.

There's a quick-adjust flappity that I'm less impressed with, as I routinely thwacked it out of place while under load, which causes the bag to hurtle to the end of the strap length, before jolting harshly, which: unpleasant. Only thing you can do is try to avoid thwacking / flicking. Probably good advice in general, and I honor this bag for teaching me a profound lesson.

The cross-body strap isn't as great: it doesn't easily stow out of the way when you're not using it. When you disconnect it, it's going to bang around your knees, which nothing on a shoulder bag should ever do. I bought a small retaining clip from Jandd, which helps when it works, which is some but not enough of the time. I don't know what would be better. Magnets, maybe? Seems like magnets might help.

There's also a strap that's sewn to the bag with a clip on the end to use as a key fob. People seem to like it. I have never used it, as my paranoia does not allow me to be happy with the idea of keys I own being in something that might not be touching my body at all times.

The straps connecting the main flap to the body of the bag are correct in two ways: the buckles are on the inside of the flap, which looks better and is no less usable than when they're on the outside; the body straps run all the way under the floor of the bag, allowing compression, and enabling stuffing something between the straps and the outside of the bag. (This is one thing I miss a lot when I'm using my Rickshaw Sutro Messenger.)

There's a grab handle, which is also correct. It's very simple, just a flat strap across the top of the bag, but it's usable and essentially invisible, which makes it nearly perfect. Since I tend to carry too much, I routinely worry that the velcro will fail to keep the whole thing together, but I don't think the hook/loop magic has ever actually failed me.

Pockets

Essentially perfect. It is deeply annoying to me that no bag reviews ever give enough detail on the pockets, as a bag just is a pocket, so pockets in pockets are obviously of grave importance. Gravest.

There's a laptop pocket across the back. It's padded on the bag side, but not on the wall side. It fits even my ridiculously large laptop (barely, with some stuffing / shoving and visible stress placed on the fabric), which is rad; a minor scourge of the bag design world is the sense bag designers seem to have that the only laptops that exist are Macs.

There's two water bottle holders. One mesh, one smooth. Both fit a small / 16 oz. type Nalgene bottle fine, but not the standard / 32 oz. size. These are pretty helpful, if only because verticality is a nice thing to impose on a liquid-carrier (and because it's nice to not have your bottle go sideways and start poking you in the back).

And then there's the front wall, a dense city block of pockets. Across the inside front wall: wide pocket; narrow pocket; narrow pocket; wide pocket. The wide pockets are wide and deep enough to hold a hard-sided glasses case (a necessity for me), or two iPhone 6s or similar mid-sized phones. Most bags don't bother to have something that comfortably fits a glasses case, and most bags suck for that reason. The narrow pockets hold two sharpies. Probably could fit three narrower pens, but that would be fussy and insane. Who would do that?

(Detail on the inside pockets under load.)

Behind the front wall, a zippered pocket that doesn't quite run the width of the wall, nor quite to the bottom of the front wall. I believe it should. But it's still a super good place to keep a backup handkerchief, maybe a smaller / thinner notebook. It's not quite deep enough for a typical Moleskine, nor tall / wide enough for my big Baron Fig notebook. But a memory card, a lighter, tampons, or whatever, it's all real good for this pocket.

On the outside of the front wall, a zippered patch pocket (with that little key fob) riding a top-loader. These pockets are bracketed by two vertical strips of the hook side of the hook-and-loop fabric. It's a great way to minimize the amount of this destructive material, but it's still exactly and precisely where a man's sleeve will go most often, thereby getting snagged. The top-loader could stand some pen slots, probably, but I never lost any sleep over it. These two are separated by just a little bit of packcloth, which finally got a bit shredded by the pointy types of cargo I tend to carry here (knives, jacks, throwing stars, etc.). Behind these is my favorite name for a pocket ever: the Napoleon pocket, a side-loader that runs wider than the two square pockets and is a perfect fit for a small tablet (7" say).

(Outside front pockets detail with Napoleon pocket.)

(You knew I was going to show you the damage done by the hook side of hook-and-loop fasteners: check out that fraying! That minor fraying after five years of use.)

Size

This bag has a nominal capacity of 21 liters (1,282 in3). This isn't huge, and the bag certainly doesn't look terribly large, but it always feels as though you can hold Just One More Thing (the bag version of moreishness).

I think it's the depth of the bag that really does this: it's listed as 18.1 inches wide (top, 14.6 inches wide at bottom) which are nothing particularly large, but the 7.09 inches of depth allow a LOT of frank stuffage. Check out the image: that's a bag with four tallboys, a laptop, a coffee mug and a water bottle in it and the bag looks essentially empty. Incredible.

(A bag with a lot in it that doesn't look like it's got a lot in it.)

Historical note on size: After the Jandd, it was very difficult for me to adjust to anything under two-cinder-block carrying capacity. I destroyed the Especial Claro by being unable to pivot to a different strategy. When I traded the Claro for this Classic, still in the shadow of the Jandd Iniki, it wasn't immediately obvious to me that that the Classic was big enough. Since 2015, though, I have tried out the Defy Strapped (nominal capacity unavailable), the Jandd Shana (nominal capacity 1,338 in3 / 22 liters [but I absolutely don't believe this, details tk]), and the Rickshaw Sutro (nominal capacity 905 in3 ~15 liters), and without seeming bulkier than any of these, it just carries more than any of them.

Carrying

Times have changed since I first started thinking about this stuff. Amangst other things, I changed jobs, and my new job (smashing capitalism) required me to buy a car (there are some contradictions)—see here my recent obsession with grab handles—so I don't always remember to stress out about how it goes to stuff in / yoink free a U-lock or two from a stuffed messenger bag, but two features of this bag make those tasks more reasonable: the main compartment is big and deep not small nor shallow, and there's a layer of foam running across the laptop pocket. This foam helps avoid the ol' U-lock kidney strike-&-massage, which is a good thing. I have noticed that it's pretty common to scrape out the pens from the inside wall when pulling out a lock, which is annoying. Mostly it all works real well! All that said, at this point, when I need to carry my locks, I mostly just hang the locks off the shoulder strap.

Punchline

Two thousand words later, on this one bag, this bag that's the most generic thing out there anywhere, after thousands of other words on the specifics of my totally individual needs ... I discover that what works best for me, is the thing that works best for everybody.

David Pogue (and Timbuk2's own marketing copy) is correct: the Classic Messenger is basically a perfected object, with years of lessons incorporated and snags smoothed out. If you can get the one I got, and the reviews on the site right now suggest you may no longer be able to, it's difficult to imagine you wouldn't be happy with it.

(Detail on the inside pockets without load and zipper pocket open.)

Previous entries in the total theory of messenger bags megathread:

Friday, March 13, 2020

On Hooks and Loops

Up late the other night, reading reviews of four-hundred-wing-wang backpacks I am absolutely not going to buy, as one does, I finally found someone who agrees with one of my longest-standing Bag Design Gripes: setting up a layout that rubs the hook side of hook-and-loop fastener against Cordura, or any other fabric with a woven texture, ensures that the fabric will get chewn up by the hooks.

As he writes:

One thing was disappointing; the extremely large, long panels of velcro on the flaps of this bag catch and pull at the nylon used on the borders at the top of the slash pockets and the very edge of the foam back-panel. This makes these parts of the bag look fuzzy with extremely thin loose threads.

However, this pioneer hero far surpassed my humble efforts by not merely diagnosing a vexing problem but actually then sallying forth and essaying a by-god solution: thus

I painted the edge of the slash pockets with Silnet silicone sealer; looks awful, but it’s not showing any signs of wearing further than it has. Functionally, it’s fine, but aesthetically, it’s a knock.

That solution is a tiny bit upsetting, in that it involves slathering hundreds of dollars of equipment with some kind of ... bag chapstick. A previous solution I have seen a few places, probably most notably from SF's own Rickshaw Bags, is to cover the hook-and-loop fastener with something, so that it can't snag stray fabric. Nor, in that case, can it ... fasten, which seems a fairly difficult trade to agree to. But, in Rickshaw's case, they employ strange and troubling magic the spooky action at a distance known as "magnetism" to substitute at least some attraction in the absence of the covered fastener's presence. Witness:

This of course will be nowhere near as strong a closure. Another, then, imperfect solution to the problem of hook/loop material. Perhaps the true solution, as no less than Margret Atwood has suggested, is to be more careful with one's relationship with hooks and eyes:

[you fit into me]

you fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye

—Fat, who wishes to sacrifice zero more sweater sleeves unto the power-hungry maw of front-of-bag hooks

Sunday, February 23, 2020

Birds of Prey

Céline Sciamma began with a trio of films about adolescents navigating through various phases of puberty, learning all on their own how to find their own identities (and genders). Among these films are some of the finest performances from non-professional actors I’ve ever seen.

     Yet without detracting from the quality of Water Lillies (2007, Sciamma), Tomboy (2011, Sciamma), and Girlhood (2014, Sciamma), after seeing Sciamma’s latest release, they resemble something like a sound check in preparation of what follows.



     Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019, Sciamma) is a period chamber piece romantic drama that sublimely invokes the very essence of our individual responses to art through its many forms—specifically from the perspective of woman, as both subject and agent of the feminine gaze.

     The best thing about Portrait of a Lady on Fire is that it made me see through the point of view of someone else—the other—and adapt my perception to theirs. And what makes Portrait of a Lady on Fire so thoroughly feminine is its gentleness. But also, formally speaking, the bonfire set piece is the core of the film; and what’s so transcendent is the way it becomes the language of cinema. Images say things without words. The women’s choir expresses emotions we share with the characters on screen. That sequence is art. It’s isolated from all around it narratively. It explains everything.

     Another motif that resonates profoundly is the repetition of images. The recurring portrait is continuously abandoned, modified, reconsidered, resurrected, destroyed, and yet again repeated. Portrait of a Lady on Fire is both artistic and speaks of the subject of art, expansively, reflexively, and conclusively.

     I cannot say enough about how much I enjoyed this movie. There’s so much to take from it. And some stuff I’m still wondering about. Like, there’s a scene where a housemaid gets an abortion and an infant frolics innocently and helplessly beside her face as it’s happening. Easily one of the coolest movies set during the eighteenth century since Barry Lyndon (1975, Stanley Kubrick) and Marie Antoinette (2006, Sofia Coppola).

Friday, February 14, 2020

Mission: Shogun Bagworks

Like most people, I think the best kind of robot is the kind whose chest opens up so it can shoot missiles or energy beams at its enemies.

(Shogun Warrior Dangard Ace deploying that chest-based what-for.)

Also, like most people, I have long said "But there could never be a backpack that reminds me of the best kind of robot".

(And lo comes Mission Workshop to prove me unimaginably, and consequentially, incorrect. Gaze upon the Mission Rhake, with its chest gawping and its payload imaginable. Image from Zdnet.)

So that's 400 wing-wangs I'm gonna have to spend, I guess. And that's a big pile of yua!

What's weird is that I can't quite tell at this late remove how / why I knew / know that Shogun Warrior Dangard Ace can open its chest to shoot missile laser things and that that's an incredibly cool and important thing to do. It took me metric forever to find an image of the chest-blasting fromthe only issue I had (issue 9), and that image is one tiny panel of two missiles launching that, spoiler: the big monster shrugs off like nothing. So why did I then spend a couple years drawing giant robots (that I was careful to identify as "ancient"), most of which had opening chest plates that revealed neat weapons?

The world may never know.

(I mean, it's not like I saw this rad attack, cropped from here. Anyway, this slightly radder attack.)

Side note one: man, the comics I grew up on sure were turbo-ruined by bad coloring printed cheaply on awful paper. Check out this great Herb Trimpe art and believe me when I tell you the color version of this that I had looked substantially less good than this. That monster design is exceedingly odd, though, with teeth and tongue coming out of what appears to be eyelids...and the whole thing breathes fire?, and it's extremely pleasing in its oddness. Also pleasing is that I could not explain why its name is "Starchild" with powerful telescopes and substantial computing power at my disposal. Also I very much appreciate the least unsuccessful giant robot attack being a head-first tackle that causes the monster to "whump".

Side note two: one of the pitfalls of buying your comics off a spinner rack is that you might only have one issue of a book, and that issue might mostly focus on a character that ... turns out not to be a good one. The issue you pluck might well in fact focus on a character that somebody could even say ... "sucked". (The summary of his career is not the most exciting read.)

(Man, that is some action of the old type. I actually still really like this way of telling a story.)

And yet something about this stuff still makes me happy. And I don't think it's exclusively nostalgia. The Trimpe art is fun, and there's some energy and weirdness to the giant-robots-fighting-monsters genre that translates pretty well to the comic format. I don't know if it's enough to get me to join the backpack brigade, but it's at the very least the closest I've come for a long time now.

—Fat, ever ready to drive a giant robot (as long as it's not a stick)

Sunday, February 09, 2020

Fun

Is there a difference between art and commercial product in cinema? What is it? In the 1950s when the auteur theory emerged, from Sarris to the Cahiers du cinéma group, aren’t most of the directors they’d singled out essentially mainstream? 

     I can’t even say that my personal experiences connecting with high art through film excludes superhero movies because of Ichi the Killer (2001, Takashi Miike), arguably the finest example of the crime genre I’ve found in any movie. And I realize it might be a stretch to call Ichi the Killer a superhero movie, but that seems to be the standard label used in terms of genre, even though I find comic book (or manga) more accurate.

     In my last post I attempted to express my view of a subcategory of films I group by their shared tone I deemed “depression.” Here I will now add “fun,” again, as a tone, not necessarily a genre. Coincidentally most of the movies I can think of that spring from my connotation of fun are based on a comic book. Most of the movies in the Marvel ECU, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010, Edgar Wright), Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets (2017, Luc Besson), and Alita: Battle Angel (2019, Robert Rodriguez). Then there are the Burton films, not based on comics: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005), Alice in Wonderland (2010), and Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (2016). 
     But this brings up a point about year of release. All the movies I can think of were released in the 2000s. See, I’ll add all of the Star Wars movies made after the original trilogy. For me these fun movies are about not really having to think, being colorful, simple, imaginative. Yet the films in the original Star Wars trilogy really do make me think, they’re impressive; or maybe the distinction is that GOUT is too good for me to consider cult or kitsch.


     Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn (2020, Cathy Yan) is an R-rated action crime superhero comic book movie that delivers heavy on the action and combines traditional Hollywood formulas with a non-linear narrative on Adderall full of subjective devices like VO and on-screen titles, text (and emojis), to keep up its excessive pace. And I loved it. Gotham hasn't been this fun and colorful since Schumacher.

     Hollywood formulas are clichés that probably avoid the risks of alienating broad audiences. Cazart, maybe that’s the difference between an art film and commercial product! But what I’m alluding to here is HARLEY QUINN (Margot Robbie) begins the film having to escape every underworld character in every crime syndicate in Gotham, and the police, and then a bounty on her own head; but also rescues an orphan, and that most typical of all Hollywood formulae: grows and becomes a better (or “less terrible”) person while experiencing a life affirming catharsis in the end.
     So why do I love it? Because of the character Harley Quinn. In Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn, beyond an opening introduction outlining her dark past, “my dad traded me for a six-pack,” throughout the movie she’s treated like “an asshole and that’s why nobody likes you.” That’s when the movie won me. It’s this outsider, independent, strong, smart, coolness of her. 
     Robbie can cry and project vulnerability, pain, and emotions in a consistently believable manner. That’s tough. And I never get tired of that Brooklyn accent. Harley is fun. Also I’ve been on the set of The Suicide Squad (2021, James Gunn) since September 2019 and obviously I signed an NDA, but I will hint that one of the biggest things I’m looking forward to is hearing some of the music that will be in the finished work.

     The music in Birds of Prey: And the Emancipation of One Harley Quinn goes a long way in creating its feel. It’s manic eclectic blend of female artists like Halsey and Ke$ha are beside mostly electronic and rock adrenaline soliciting tracks from the score. Maybe the highlight of the movie is a fight scene where a pallet stacked high with cocaine in an evidence locker is shot with machine guns that Harley snorts, then goes on an aluminum baseball bat spree to a techno remix of “Black Betty.” 

     While I try to avoid commenting on political undertones, Birds of Prey: And the Emancipation of One Harley Quinn is overtly feminist, which is awesome. So, it’s great to have women directing, writing, producing, and starring in this. It’s empowering to see female characters bonding, working together, standing up for themselves, finding themselves, and enjoying life to its fullest. They’re cool. They kick ass.
     I’m just making an observation here about the current climate of acceptable values. Having an ensemble of ethnically diverse women, one of whom happens to be a lesbian (or bi, not that there’s anything wrong with that), and none of whom appear to be in a relationship with a man, all spend the duration of the running time assaulting men is what we all want to see. 
     Hurting women and children is bad. So is racism and homophobia. Throw in intolerance of those with physical disabilities and you’ll win an Oscar, i.e. The Shape of Water (2017, Guillermo del Toro). It’s time for more movies with a panethnic, pansexual, pangender gang going on a killing spree against evil white heterosexual men.
     But back to Birds of Prey: And the Emancipation of One Harley Quinn, I rooted for the anti-heroes. It’s a worthy entry in the crime genre. It’s cool. It’s fun. And the film wisely bookends its most elaborate set pieces, namely the amazingly choreographed opening party scene and Harley's roller-skate chase/fight sequence that caps the Booby Trap. And spoiler alert, the post-credit gag is Harley dishing that Batman fucks bats.

Sunday, February 02, 2020

Lovecraft Country

The period between 1977-1986 is what I’ve always considered the Golden Age of modern horror movies. Recently I’ve found myself feeling as though maybe Brian Yuzna’s been unjustly neglected in my acknowledgement of influences. By no means am I an expert on his work, but Re-Animator (1985, Stuart Gordon) produced by Yuzna, From Beyond (1986, Gordon) produced by Yuzna, and Society (1989, Yuzna) have long been among the finest horror I’ve seen. And by today’s standards, they’re even better.


     Color Out of Space (2019, Richard Stanley) is prestige horror. Mom and Dad (2017, Brian Taylor) struck me as a B-movie, and it is. But it was fun and edgy. Mandy (2018, Panos Cosmatos) struck me as a B-movie, but took me off-guard and had me simultaneously fascinated that I’d never seen anything quite like it’s metal/carny/blacklight/druggy airbrushed fantasy aesthetic; in other words, delivered a yield that exceeded its investment or something.
     Color Out of Space finds Stanley in command of his material, along with contributions from the camera operator, boasting a consistently flawless execution of composition through staging and blocking, . This movie’s got style. And it’s this aspect in which the whole thing feels like an A-picture. Next, I suppose it’s the subtle sound design and calmly eeire atmosphere score.

     It’s surprising that the film comes off so well done considering the excessively graphic horror images nestled within the nice peaceful family alone in the woods backdrop. But of course, like the rare exception Lovecraft himself, who wrote quality prose but found subtle ways to get lost off the traditional path and wander into demented stuff you’d expect in pulpier fare, Stanley blends high art with the deranged effortlessly. 
     And speaking of the nuclear family: mom, dad, two boys, a girl, with a cat and a dog, I love how I was unable to get a strong sense of their dynamic. At first, they’re practically so perfect it verges on cliché. But then, they all gradually kind of cuss each other out, which isn’t an error in tone, but the asteroid’s presence beginning to affect them. It's also where the movie really gets fun. Especially with Cage in full-on Vampire’s Kiss filing system mode.

     And, dig the poster art. I’ve been living in Atlanta the past couple of years and listening to trap and, maybe it’s just me, but the whole fuchsia world that manifests seems like the coolest version of the codeine crazy trip with slowly psychedelic visuals melting your face I’ve ever seen.

     So in conclusion, the Lovecraft tone is what makes Color Out of Space strong and most enjoyable, but it’s also got some throwback late 80s Yuzna vibe that made me love horror even more.