So Her Mims and I are approaching June at a leislurely and carefree pace, with less work and more art appreciation, albeit not timely. You know you live near the sticks when you review musicals after they’ve won Tonys and concert tours on their final leg. So it is that we’ve taken in some theatre wearing our finery and laughing in the face of Depression Deux.
First off was the touring company of Rosie O’Donnell’s favortite musical, “Spring Awakening!” Based on a 19th Century German play by Frank Wedekind that explores youthful sexual exploration with tragic results, and set to a rock score written by Indie-Ivy League rocker Duncan Sheik this musical delivers the goods. It’s Little Red Riding Hood without a wolf but with plenty of guitar. The staging was a bit odd with the band and rows of customers on stage with the actors, but it worked. A cautionary tale that blames sexual repression more than sexual behaviour for the tragic consequences, many prudish patrons left the theatre in a huff (though, none of the ones on stage, I think - just some in the seats). If you’re interested, there is also a translation of the German play by Jonathan Franzen available. Or you could buy the soundtrack and read some Brothers Grimm.
Next up was a production of Tom Stoppard’s “Rock N Roll,” that felt like a graduate class on socialism, world cultures, literature and pop music. Apparently, 1968 was a bad year to dig the Velvet Underground in Czechoslavkia as the tanks rolled in from the Soviet Union to suppress the “Prague Spring.” Our protagonist, Jan, leaves his philosophy studies in Cambridge to return to Prague armed only with his record albums and his belief that change will come about through underground rock shows. Well, the secret police beat that notion out of him. Well, not really, but Stoppard does liberally sprinkle in appearances by Syd Barrett, Sappho and cancer. Best to see this play on Ginkgo Biloba.
Speaking of the rock and rolls, Mims and I took in Coldplay at the local outdoor amphitheatre and they did not disappoint. Chris Martin, the one guy, that other guy and the drummer put on a spectacle of sound, light and bouncing yellow balls that delighted the capacity crowd of couples. Martin even lead the crowd in a wave of lighted cell phones. Good to see they were able to survive “X & Y,” however, I couldn’t help but wonder why them and not Del Amitri.
Finally, our immersion into the art world took us to a film destined to be a comedia classico. “The Hangover” takes the inventive notion of a bachelor party gone awry and places it in the context of a screwball comedy rather than a horror or crime story. Usually the setting for detective noir or crime scene investigations, Las Vegas serves to actually the lighten the mood of this buddy film wherein the characters aren’t actually buddies. Ed Helms, whom I believe may be Fred Gwynne CGI’d into the picture, steals the movie by constantly shrieking. The oddest thing, though, is the lack of Vince Vaughn, Will Ferrell, Seth Rogan or Paul Rudd. Don’t see this movie expecting to cry unless they’re tears of laughter, that is.
Well, we leave for Italia in 13 days. Hopefully, Interpol has a short memory.
Another mad musical genius has died and with him goes any hope of a “Summerteeth 2: This Time It’s Personal!” Jay Bennett, 45, passed away in his sleep on Sunday of unknown causes. Bennett, known primarily as the guy who got sacked from Wilco during the “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” sessions, and who was unfairly (editor?) portrayed in the film “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart was a sonic innovator. Jay’s contributions to Wilco’s “Being There,” “Summerteeth,” the 2 “Mermaid Avenue” records and “YHF” are phenomenal. As a multi-instrumentalist, he added layers and structure more like a composer than a tunesmith. Post Wilco, Jay released some fine records both solo and with his writing partner, Edward Burch. In fact, do a google search and you can download his latest record for free.
Speaker Nancy Pelosi has introduced HB434 naming June 1st as a National Day to Punch members of the National Rifle Association, and Presidential Press Secretary Robert Gibbs has said the President will quickly sign it into law. While the law is vague about what areas of the body are fair game, it is assumed that the face, beer gut and/or testes are the most obvious choices for striking. While Speaker Pelosi claims to have not really read the bill she has managed to secure several co-sponsors from Vermont, Delaware and France.
Thank you. All of you. Beautiful. Like a parrot or, no, what are those red parrots called? Special. Special people. My heart.
Hi, I’m Susan Boyle, and as you’ve probably heard by now I ‘ave ne’er been kissed, smootched or cullied. Not even by a pet. Now there’s some might call that torture, but not me. I always figured the laird blessed me in udder ways. Like me wee singing voice. If a man doesn’t want to put his lips on mine because I resemble Rubeus Hagrid, so be it. T’ hell with the lot of them.
So our President makes retard jokes on late night television. So what? Is he really the first one? Didn’t LBJ compare Ho Chi Minh to a retarded poodle on the Jack Paar Show? Well, he should have. The main reason Obama went on “The Tonight Show” was to dumb down his message to the people. Populism is nothing if not gratuitous and superficial. How could Obama sell his recovery plan to the fans of “Small Town News” if he didn’t talk like one of them.
Happy St. Pasquale’s Day (or Patrick, if you insist). Of course, before the frat boys can don their green Cat in the Hat chapeaux and their drunk-girl dates puke into their Uggs, a police officer has been shot dead in a republican stronghold in Northern Ireland - the third such killing in 48 hours. Great, just what Obama needed. Another hot zone. Send in Team America! (Finally got around to watching that movie, by the way. Hilarious!)
The race for number 1 of 2009 begins tomorrow with the release of “Middle Cyclone,” the latest and greatest from Neko Case. Great album or greatest album? Jury is still out. All I know is that I bought 5 to give as Easter presents.
As our editors prepare to (finally) release our Top 20 CDs of 2008 list, we thought we would correct a wrong and claim Midlake’s exceptional album “The Trials of Van Occupanther” an honorary best of 2006. We were just turned on to this fine concept album by our friends at the opium den known as PlanetRoz. I know why we skipped it 3 years ago: the title. Really? I hate/love goofy word mash-ups. Plus, they’re from Denton, Texas. Strike 2. However, I must confess I can’t take it out of the CD machine in my metal suit. Wowsie! It’s indie rock with all of the best elements of the 70s. Lindsay Buckingham guitar solos, Michael Murphy songs about horses, Steely Dan electric piano. Delightful, indeed.
Readers of this site know that I am an unabashed fan of steroid and performance enhancing drug use in professional sports. That is why I was pleased to see Alex Rodriguez (pictured pre-roids) admit to using the juice. Why? Well, look at his statistics for starters. His numbers are astounding. He crushes home runs at an astronomical rate, while also hitting for average. Isn’t that why people pay big money to see him? To watch sports in general? I know that we at Le Philistine Media, Inc. do.