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Sunday, Nov 23, 2008
Smashing Pumpkins Fans Speak Their Minds.

It hasn’t been a good week for Billy Corgan and the Smashing Pumpkins, or the hometown fans. And the emotional train wreck that I feared I was walking into on Saturday night never happened. I never even got in the door.  Instead, as I approached the Auditorium Theatre, I discovered a twist in the Corgan drama that I didn’t expect. I encountered a venue posting that every concertgoer fears.


Like the other fans who stood starring at the posted note, I didn’t have the luxury of learning via the web or my complementary email Ticketmaster alert that the sold out show was postponed until December 8th “due to illness.”


Since I wasn’t going to be able to do the review, and neither Corgan nor his music was going to be doing the talking, I decided to let the fans have a voice tonight and let them express their momentary melancholy and unfortunate sadness.


It was sad to watch fans as they approached the venue door and see their faces switch instantly from hopeful bliss to anger and disappointment. I felt the same disappointment, but I really wanted to know how other fans felt and have them tell me exactly how they felt when they read that note.


Standing out in the freezing cold, I commiserated with fans, as they willingly expressed how they felt about the postponed concert. I was even more disappointed when they told me their stories and dashed expectations of far travels (Indiana and Kentucky) and wasted hotel room costs and vacation time.


Representing the general consensus of all the fans I spoke with, here’s what a few fans had to say.


Where are you from Donald?


Lexington, KY.


How do you feel about that note on the door?


It fucking sucks. We came all the way from Lexington, KY. We drove six hours! How can they play last night but they can’t play tonight? How sick was he? You’ve got to be kidding me! I always thought [Corgan] thought he was way bigger than he really was. He thought he was Eddie Vedder and he wasn’t.


I turn to Donald’s friend Larry.


You all came together?


Yes, I’m here to see it for her. [pointing to his girlfriend Stephanie] She’s been waiting to see them for fifteen years.


What do you think about that sign over there Stephanie?


[sighs]I’m just devastated. I’ve been waiting to see them since I was fifteen.  I’ve been waiting my whole life to see the Smashing Pumpkins. We paid a hundred ten dollars a seat. [she looks back at the note on the door and her drops head into her mittens].


Are you guys going to come back on the 8th?


Hell no! We all took off work to come here and now it’s a complete waste. We want a refund!


I turn and ask another fan.


Hi Brad, Kirsten; where are you guys from?


We’re from Bartlett. We got a hotel room for tonight at the Fairmont for $200.00. We’ve never seen [the Smashing Pumpkins] before and always wanted to. It’s pretty disappointing to spend money on a hotel room and $65 on both tickets all for nothing. I guess we’re going to go hang out with the tourists for the night at the bars on Rush and Division St.


Are you going to come back on the 8th?


Yeah, we’re forced to. They were great back in the day and it seems like [Corgan] is full of himself right now. My wife had read a blog this week about some fans shouting at him during one of the other shows so I wasn’t quite sure what was going on with him. We would have gone and watched the Christmas lights on Michigan Ave if I knew about this shit.


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Saturday, Nov 22, 2008

Living down a legacy can be hard. For Trey Parker and Matt Stone, it’s almost impossible. Long before there was South Park, Comedy Central, Team America: World Police, and the millions of dollars with the success of same, the University of Colorado students went off on a Spring Break jaunt to make a movie. The result was the wildly ambitious and decidedly dark comedy Alferd Packer: The Musical. That was 1993. When no other company showed interest in releasing and/or distributing the film, Troma Entertainment came to the rescue. Since then, there has been an uneasy alliance between the camps. And with the release of the excellent 13th Anniversary Two Disc “Shpadoinkle” Edition DVD, the duo once again become the focus of one company’s continuing commercial sustainability, and their own incomplete past.


The story for this wild musical ride is oddly compelling - and based on real events. Looking to seek their fortune in the Colorado territory, a group of miners follow fellow gold rusher Alferd Packer deep into the Rocky Mountains. Along the way, they run into a band of scurvy trappers who steal Packer’s prized pony Liane. No longer concerned about wealth or riches, angry Al marches the mystified men farther off the well-beaten path and closer to death’s doorway. A stop-off at a local Ute Indian Reservation provides a last chance at avoiding tragedy, but Packer will not be persuaded. He eventually places his party into one Donner of a dilemma.


And soon, it’s shinbones and short ribs for everyone as fallen members of the ore obsessives become bar-b-qued and fricasseed. Strangely, only Packer escapes. When pressed, he tells a wild tale of murder, mayhem, and massive helpings of man meat. It’s enough to put you off your pemmican as a Broadway-style back story leads to a tuneful trial and an even more melodious mob scene with everyone trying to determine if Al is a real life butt muncher, or just the subject of an insane song saga.


Outrageous, amateurish, guaranteed to make your toes tap, your fingers snap, and your gag reflex respond all in one sitting, Cannibal!: The Musical is the small, silly sapling from which a mighty comedy oak eventually grew. The titanic tree of unbridled, brave humor is today known as South Park and the creators of that crazy comic chaos are Matt Stone and his partner in perversity, Trey Parker. Trey is the tricky mastermind behind this musical version of the (supposed) crimes of Colorado’s most infamous flesh-eater, Alferd Packer. Anyone who has ever doubted Parker’s flourishing genius with paper cut-out cartoon characters need look no further than this ambitious, anarchic pseudo-student film to realize that he (along with Stone) were bound for bigger, longer, and uncut things.


Cannibal! is filled with juvenile humor, unprofessional performances, lapses in taste and tone, and - above all - a severe drop-off in inventiveness toward the end. But it also contains classic tainted Tin Pan Alley tunes, a genuine love of gore horror films, and enough sharp, hilarious wit to outshine a few hundred Hollywood dark gross-out comedies. Cannibal!: The Musical is an idea that shouldn’t work (and occasionally heaves and lurches like a block and tackle about to fail), but thanks to Parker’s vision and his merry band of borderline student psychotics (the film was made while Trey and pals were at film school), he manages to corral Cannibal’s potential calamities and make the chaos work. It is far from perfect, but it’s also entertaining, memorable, and filled with infectious, fantastic musical numbers.


This may be the very definition of a cult film. It is a movie made for a specific mindset. You are either “in tune” to its troubled, terrific manic mantra or not. No amount of big screen talkback or audience participation prop pandering will make it click. You will either “get” Cannibal!: The Musical or it will seem static, insipid, and scattered. Just like his efforts on that Comedy Central kiddie show (or the unjustly dumped sitcom spoof That’s My Bush), Parker operates from a big picture, avoiding a non-stop salvo of junky jokes to hopefully create a certain amount of depth and irony to his work. His goal always seems to be the complete deconstruction of typical cinematic and humor norms, only to rebuild them with his own twists. Many critics clamor that Parker and Stone are irrevocably stuck in an infantile world of farts, feces, and offensiveness (stereotyped Japanese men as Ute Indians?). And Cannibal! could very well be used as an example of such salacious obsessions.


But in reality, it is a smart take-off on the musical format mixed with historical drama and laced with the noticeably lowbrow sense of stupid humor - and it succeeds more times than it derails. There are some forgivable lapses in character and plot development (the trappers should have had more involvement in the story) and the good-natured goofiness of the songs leave you wanting more of them (there are a couple of lost tracks - a barroom rap/funk spectacular called “I’m Shatterproof” and the cautionary choral entitled “Don’t Be Stupid Motherf******s”). Still, Parker is out to simultaneously celebrate Packer and bury him. And he does so with a little song, a little dance, and a lot of fake blood down the pants.


Surprisingly, Cannibal! The Musical understands the strange dynamic of having characters break out into song and plays on that unreal magic magnificently. Where else would you find victims of frostbite, so hungry they are unable to move or even sit up straight, singing a joyful - if immobile - roundelay of special sentimental wishes called “That’s All I’m Asking For”? Or how about a lynch mob gaily swing choiring their way through a jubilant reading of the local riot act called “Hang the Bastard!”? The juxtaposition of traditionally non-musical moments with outrageous parodies of Great White Way standards is what marks Cannibal! (and South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut for that matter) a step above other attempted mismatching. Parker is a gifted writer, and along with original score arrangements by Rich Sanders, the songs are rich, resonant, and instantly memorable. Indeed, this flesh-eating effort may be the first fright flick you’ll ever find yourself humming afterward.


The question then becomes, should fans once again dip into their W. Bush Administration tapped wallets and spring for yet another DVD version of this title? The answer, oddly, depends on how much you love the movie and your completist need to see now mega-famous superstars feign interest in a movie made 13 years ago. Parker and Stone appear in new interviews, and both seem slightly disinterested in revisiting their history. Of course, Troma titan Lloyd Kaufman is there to lighten things up with his irreverent Q&A style. In the end, we get some quality information. Elsewhere, a new commentary features some stars from the film, and it’s as chaotic and crazed as the now infamous “drunken” track featuring Parker, Stone, and some pals doing shots. Both are offered and provide a combination of anecdotes, riffs, and curse-laden cutdowns.


Sprinkled liberally across both discs are a host of deleted scenes. Some are fascinating; some seem like cutting room floor fodder. In addition, there are a few Behind the Scenes featurettes showing us how different F/X were achieved, as well as the oddball production path the film took. Finally, the DVD contains a look at a local production of Cannibal! The Musical. It seems that, every year, amateur theater companies put of versions of the film, with varying degrees of success. We even see one show where Lloyd Kaufman made a stand-up style cameo as a judge. Overall, the 13th Anniversary Two Disc “Shpadoinkle” Edition of this film offers enough new material to spark the interest of even the most casual lover of Cannibal!‘s craziness.


Yet one still walks away wondering how long this first taste of fame will continue to haunt the boys. As the first release in Troma’s planned “Tromasterpiece Collection” (complete with clever PBS-style logo), the import of Cannibal! The Musical cannot be understated - not to Parker and Stone, and definitely not to the company who came to their rescue. The edgy agreement between the two means that there will always be a place in the corporate cornerstone for another digital version of this hilarious, half-baked gemstone. And when the results are as winning as these, the men behind South Park really shouldn’t care. Sure, all of this can seem like the stalker-esque girlfriend who won’t take the hint post-breakup, but first love is always the strongest, and most unwieldy. That’s a perfect description of Cannibal!‘s unique charm, and Troma’s treatment of same. 


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Thursday, Nov 20, 2008
A brief overview of the top winner of this year's Machinima Festival in New York.

Gamasutra has an excellent write-up and collection of links for the 2008 Machinima Festival. Winner of several prizes was ‘The Monad’ whose creator was interviewed at Popmatters in this feature. Since his work received extensive coverage in that piece, this post is instead going to focus on the other breakout video of the awards: Egils Mednis’s The Ship.


The video contains no dialogue and is 11:18 minutes long. A man and a small boy, fully clothed, trudge through a long icy valley. When they eventually stop after several long minutes of them walking, the pair collapses and sleeps on the ground. Before long, a dull roaring sound awakens the man and boy. The Ship finally reveals itself, an enormous black monolithic structure that encompasses the entire valley and slowly approaches at an equally mind numbing pace. The movie continues on with the agonizingly slow chase of the Ship while the pair, dragged down by their own physical exhaustion, eventually succumb to its inhuman, constant pace. I’ll leave the ending’s surprisingly poignant comment on what this elaborate metaphor represents for those willing to watch the entire video. It’s open to interpretation and yet…not as much as one would expect.


As with other Machinima, the film is remarkable on its own and yet still serves as a prime example of what a director can accomplish without financial inhibition. This is a small project that is visually depicting what would usually cost thousands in animation or live footage. Counting in that you would have to use CGI to create the ship and that the icy valley would be impossible to depict without computers, the video’s sad metaphor and plodding pace would probably not justify the expense of making this video under normal means. Where would you find someone willing to pay for it? Yet with Machinima, such art not only has a place, it is warmly welcomed. Having an artistic medium where a director can achieve whatever he imagines is only half the struggle, having a welcoming audience and means of distribution for that creativity is the other half. I like to think ‘The Ship’ would be praised at any film festival, but at Machinima 2008 the artist walked away with top honors and praise. You can watch it anytime online through the link.


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Thursday, Nov 20, 2008

As we near the end of the year, and the ongoing glut of award season entries, some smaller films are flying under the radar and into your local Cineplex. For the weekend before Thanksgiving, 21 November 2008, here are a few of the said unsung films in focus:


Let the Right One In [rating: 9]


It’s like watching a work of art come to life before your eyes, minor flaws and ambiguous imperfections intact.

When was the last time a vampire was truly scary? No, not gory, or gross, or given over to fits of faux romanticized rage and revisionism. Really, genuinely and utterly frightening? Underworld? Buffy? Near Dark? Anytime Hammer’s Christopher Lee arrived onscreen? Blade made the bloodsucker into a staid action hero and villain, while numerous post-Anne Rice adjustments have turned the one time fiend into a tragic, almost Shakespearean scourge. In fact, if something like Let the Right One In hadn’t come along, Nosferatu would remain a non-issue in the world of horror. But thanks to Tomas Alfredson’s amazing new movie, the bloodsucker gets a new lease on life - at least, temporarily.  read full review…


The Boy in the Striped Pajamas [rating: 6]


Either you will appreciate The Boy in the Striped Pajamas particular tact, or you will cringe on what it decides to exploit. Like the subject it secures as part of its plotting, there is no middle ground.

As a cinematic foundation, the Holocaust has just about run its course. Certainly there will be other examples of stellar filmmaking - i.e. Schindler’s List - that utilize the monstrous historical events, but it seems like, with rare exceptions, all the critical stories have been told. With last year’s intriguing The Counterfeiter, and numerous documentaries uncovering the most elemental and exclusive of detail, the picture, while not completely painted, definitely fills the canvas. Contextually, this makes the new drama The Boy in the Striped Pajamas a complicated consideration. On the one hand it does something quite daring. On the other, it offers up a contrite and sadly manipulative look at the horrific plight of six million innocent and unnecessary victims.  read full review…


Splinter [rating: 7]


If you can get beyond one basic narrative flaw, and a low budget dynamic which provides limited looks at our Bottin-inspired fiends, Splinter will come as a wonderful little fright flick surprise.

When Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez made From Dusk ‘Til Dawn back in 1996, critics predicted a run on genre-melding movies where established types (the crime thriller) would be married to horror archetypes (in this case, the vampire) to create some intriguing and sparkling new combinations. Sadly, no such macabre renaissance occurred. Fans went back to the surefire recipe of comedy mixed with creepshow, and no one successfully ventured back into the realm of cinematic cross pollination. Now comes Splinter, a nasty little indie splatter job that again sees two on-the-run lowlifes taking a pair of vacationing lovers hostage. What the foursome finds in the isolated wilderness is both incredibly gruesome and undeniably satisfying, especially for fright mavens desperate for a little post-modern monster mashing.  read full review…


House (2008) [rating: 6]


Like most movies where belief makes up a good percentage of the narrative rationale and resolution, House has a very hard time with its dogma.

It’s unique among fundamentalists - the decision to take Christianity into arenas where it previously could find little or no purchase. After all, musical mediums like punk and hip-hop would seem antithetical to giving God (and his celebrated son, JC) his due. And yet all throughout faith-based music, genres are retrofitted to provide a Good Book provenance and potential profitability. Now, it appears, movies are the next medium to be explored. Take the work of Frank Peretti and Ted Dekker. Both are noted writers of Christian fiction specifically aimed at the horror audience. When the latter’s solo serial killer effort Thr3e was made into a semi-success film in 2007, it looked like the floodgates were unleashed for literal stories of good vs. evil. Oddly enough, the adaptation of Peretti and Dekker’s collaboration, House avoids most of the religion for standard scares - and suffers because of it.  read full review…


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Thursday, Nov 20, 2008

When was the last time a vampire was truly scary? No, not gory, or gross, or given over to fits of faux romanticized rage and revisionism. Really, genuinely and utterly frightening? Underworld? Buffy? Near Dark? Anytime Hammer’s Christopher Lee arrived onscreen? Blade made the bloodsucker into a staid action hero and villain, while numerous post-Anne Rice adjustments have turned the one time fiend into a tragic, almost Shakespearean scourge. In fact, if something like Let the Right One In hadn’t come along, Nosferatu would remain a non-issue in the world of horror. But thanks to Tomas Alfredson’s amazing new movie, the bloodsucker gets a new lease on life - at least, temporarily.


Oskar is a pale, frail little Swedish boy barely into his teens. Hopelessly tormented at school by a bully and his lackeys, he longs for revenge. One night, a young girl named Eli moves into the flat next door. Instantly curious, he keeps an eye on his new neighbor and her elderly guardian. After a few confusing conversations, Oskar and Eli become friends. In the meantime, her caregiver goes around Stockholm killing innocent people and draining their blood. Eventually we learn that Eli is a vampire, forever stuck in a child’s body. Yet Oskar is not afraid. Instead, he senses the power she possesses, and wonders how he can utilize it for his own, less than noble needs. Elsewhere, the locals are starting to suspect something evil is in their midst.


With its bursts of horrific violence and stark, matter of fact mannerism, Let the Right One In instantly becomes one of the few outright foreign fright film classics. It uses routine to unholy ends, and takes the standard coming of age and turns it right on its pointy, perplexed and paranormal little head. Rare is the movie that can take the trials and tribulations of peer pressure and personal awareness and make it into something both celebratory and sinister. But thanks to the efforts of Alfredson and his collaboration with source novelist John Lindqvist, we wind up with a compelling companion to every story of overlooked and alienated youth ever told. It’s like A Catcher in the Rye or A Separate Peace with night stalkers.


Alfredson has a very unique style - call it the slowburn calm before the terrifying torrents of chaos. Much of Let the Right One In plays out in long, silent takes, the camera covering personal details as we wait to see what happens next. Suddenly, the director will offer up some explosive bit of horror - a violent confrontation, an animal attack, a post-sunrise personal immolation - and we definitely understand the aesthetic choice. Let the Right One In wants to lull us into a sense of sobering everyday complacency, focusing on the terror of a young boy being bullied more than the presence of a possible vampire. Yet once the supernatural stuff begins, we get the clear connection between the two.


Pain is at the center of this film - Eli’s physical sickness and need for blood as well as her overriding desire for simple human connections. The issue of immortality is often explored within the genre, but Let the Right One In finds simple, dignified ways of explaining the solemn sadness of living forever. In Oskar’s case, we get the more basic boyhood trauma. With a mother that smothers him and a Dad who apparently passes his time doing drugs (and his male friends), this is one kid getting the full blown dysfunctional family mixed message treatment. He can’t confide in either parent, and as a result, sees Eli as a like minded youth who uses silence acceptance as a way of understanding his plight. She’s also very strong, and blessed with a killer instinct.


If this kind of misery loves company companionship sounds like dozens of other formulaic family fare, Let the Right One In is guilty. However, thanks to Lindqvist’s novel approach to the material, the decision to set everything within the stark cold realities of a Swedish winter, and Alfredson’s way with tone and talent, we wind up with something quite extraordinary. Of course, it takes capable child actors gifted enough of bringing this material to life, and in the case of Kåre Hedebrant and Lina Leandersson, we have totally believable,  completely unmannered individuals. As the first film for both, we can sense a slight streak of amiable amateurishness in their open, honest performances. In each case, the untested attributes work wonderfully for them.


Since they have to carry the film almost exclusively, the rest of the cast kind of fades into the woodwork, and that’s crucial for Let the Right One In to succeed. We don’t need to know more about the group of drunkards frequenting the local hangout, or the cat man living near the scene of a gruesome killing. We could care less about the bully’s far more evil older brother, or the sloppy, slutty woman who becomes an unwitting part of the plot. The main focus of the film stays on the growing infatuation and interlocking need between Oskar and Eli. Everything else is just wicked window dressing. Even better, Alfredson doesn’t skimp on the gruesomeness. The fate of Eli’s first “handler” is illustrated in graphic, gory effectiveness. And one fiend in the making gets a pair of particularly nasty comeuppances.


Indeed, Let the Right One In is almost perfect in its execution and expanse. It’s like watching a work of art come to life before your eyes, minor flaws and ambiguous imperfections intact. It’s the kind of experience that stays with you, growing more and more meaningful as your distance from it dictates. Naturally, Hollywood has stepped in and is currently planning an Americanized remake, complete with CW level talent and, more than likely, a happier, far more upbeat ending. But like other foreign films given over to the unnecessary Tinsel Town treatment, Let the Right One In might survive the translation. If it managed to make it through the literal wasteland that is the vampire genre, it can probably endure anything. 


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