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by Bill Gibron

19 Dec 2008

Man is not a perfect machine. He is flawed, easily broken, capable of incredibly feats and destined to die off damaged and corrupt. Luckily for most of us, we don’t rely on our bodies to earn our keep. While we need our physicality to function, we are usually not graded or rewarded on it. The athlete, on the other hand, sacrifices his engine every competition, seeking out the structural disrepair we strictly avoid to march one inch closer to immortality. What they never quite understand, however, is that such everlasting fame is elusive and very rare. Even worse, there’s dozens of wannabe replacements all eager to prove their indestructible mantle.

For Randy “The Ram” Robinson, eternal stardom came quickly and burned very, very bright. As one of the ‘80s premiere wrestlers, he was a title holder and a public draw. He was so popular he even had his own action figure. Now, two decades later, he is battered, bruised, and broken. Taking menial matches on the weekends to supplement his food service, trailer park existence, he’s desperate to reclaim his past glory. While in remarkable shape for a man of his age, life is apparently set to beat him down one last time. A literal busted heart, a grim diagnosis, and it looks like The Ram’s career is done. But for this former fan icon, an anniversary rematch may be the very thing that keeps his legacy and hopes alive. It may also kill him outright.

Taking its tone from Rod Serling’s memorable Requiem for a Heavyweight while utilizing a breathtaking neo-realistic approach, Darren Aronofsky’s sensational The Wrestler marks a major comeback for Mickey Rourke and ‘70s style filmmaking in general. Offering up characters of quiet charms and deep emotional pain and a cinema verite cinematography that frequently feels like a documentary, this is a tour de force of acting, directing, and stripped down motion picture passion. It’s rare when a film can make you feel such emotional extremes. On the one hand, the story of The Ram’s rise and fall is truly heartbreaking, helped in no small part by Rourke’s Oscar worthy performance. But there is so much more going on here, from the concept of a career lost long ago to an attempt at redemption that almost anyone can relate to. It makes for a truly remarkable entertainment experience.

It’s impossible to explain how amazing Rourke is here. Bulked up beyond recognition, wearing his own battle spoils from a decade of debauchery and failed plastic surgery, he stands as a warning to anyone who thinks the acting profession is all red carpets and E! News Daily. Sure, most of the damage is of the self-destructive and inflicted variety, but in the chew ‘em up and spit them out world of Hollywood, that someone like he survived is stunning enough. Now take The Ram’s similarly styled story - early instant fame, a life in pursuit of ever increasing success (and the harmful perks that come with same), the inability to recognize the need to slow down, a current situation marked by dishonesty and despair. Together, this amalgamation of persona and performance marks the kind cinematic synergy that makes movies truly magic.

But amazingly enough, he’s not the only great thing here. Proving to those who questioned her Academy Award for My Cousin Vinny, Marisa Tomei continues her own reclamation of her career (after last year’s similarly spectacular Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead) with her turn as sensible stripper Cassidy. While she definitely shows off her incredible post-40 physique, there’s a naturalness and nurturing quality to her character that’s warm and inviting. As the other main female in his life, Evan Rachel Wood is an interesting enigma as The Ram’s abandoned daughter, Stephanie. Though she only has a few scenes here, the combination of hurt and longing is more than memorable. There is one moment in particular where her little girl feelings are forced to confront a man whose still capable of great compassion - and great disappointment. It’s just one of several sensational scenes.

Clearly, working outside his comfort zone inspired Aronofsky. Known for his flashy, in your face directorial flare, The Wrestler is miles away from his formalized work on such films as Pi, Requiem for a Dream, and The Fountain. Instead of going for bright lights and auteur-ish bravado, Aronofsky strives for authenticity. The background is loaded with former and current wrestling notables, and when the supposedly “scripted” elements of each match are discussed, there’s no elaborate storyline or set-up. A quick shorthand regarding moves and potential weaponry (including barbed wire and a stapler!?!?) is all these seasoned veterans need. The matches are magnificent, each one presented in a unique and uncompromising manner. Even better, Aronofksy sticks around to show the aftermath - the blood, the sweat, the stitches, and the wholly professional clannishness and camaraderie.

There may be those who think the medical crisis subplot is to formulaic and manipulative for this kind of movie, and when the advertised rematch turns into a kind of Death of a Salesman send-off (though no clear resolution, good or bad, is offered), some may sense a bit of a heavy hand on the script (expertly put together by former Onion scribe Robert Siegel). But thanks to Rourke’s sensitive, well observed turn, the rest of the dominating cast, and Aronofsky’s courageousness and artistic risk taking, The Wrestler overcomes all clichés to redefine the sports film for a post-millennial audience raised on the very subject being explored. It may be hard for some to watch their heroes take a fall, but until you reach the bottom, there’s no way to possibly come back up.

As he stalks the counter behind the deli of the grocery store where he works at, desperately trying to avoid recognition while serving the customers with the kind of charm and grace that made him a wrestling champion, Randy “The Ram” Robinson is like Kurt Vonnegut’s Billy Pilgrim - unstuck in time and having difficulty dealing with the passage of same. There’s only one place he wants to be and he can never really return there. Still, the lure of the crowd is unnerving to those addicted to its trappings. As the last gasp of someone who has had more than a few of those life leaking final breaths, The Ram is nearing the end. Thanks to this sensational motion picture, we have the opportunity to watch him struggle yet again…at least for as long as it lasts. 

by Rob Horning

19 Dec 2008

An important new study has been published in the most recent British Medical Journal. The title: “Head and neck injury risks in heavy metal: head bangers stuck between rock and a hard bass.”

by Rob Horning

19 Dec 2008

As the scare quotes in the title of the post indicates, I’m skeptical of the notion and prevalence of “compulsive shopping,” an affliction detailed in this WSJ story in light of such sufferers’ unusual vulnerability within our current economic climate. The notion of a shopping addiction seems another manifestation of how we tend to pathologize and medicalize phenomena that may have a cultural explanation—that way we make these conditions seem natural if unfortunate rather than products of a culture we can and should change. But I guess that makes me a heartless scourage to the 8.9 percent of Americans who are allegedly afflicted. The WSJ article is full of poignant (if not risible) anecdotes about compulsive shoppers who feel compelled to collect shoes amd can’t resist the promise of a sale:

Saks Fifth Avenue this season offered 12 months of no interest and no payments for people who spend $2,000 or more in a single day, a deal that Mr. Shulman says is like a “crack dealer saying, ‘Come here, try a sample.’ “

Such stories are good for rationalizing our own compulsive shopping behavior—whatever foolish and unnecessary purchases I’ve made lately pale in comparison to these, and as pleasant as it can be to score a bargain, I don’t find myself jonesing for that pleasure. So I have nothing to worry about! And at the same time we experience the vicarious thrill of letting no obstacle stand in our way of our getting whatever stuff we want.

Anyway, this interview with psychologist Peter Ubel from Scientific American’s Mind Matters blog offer a more sober and less sensationalistic look at the relationship between mind and retail, tracing the various ways the classical economists’ presumption of rationality fails to reflect the ways people actually behave. Rather than pathologize shopping addiction, Ubel frames compulsion in terms of precommitment—deciding a measur eof resistance in advance and adhering to it, à la Ulysses vis-à-vis the sirens:

One reason we humans don’t always behave rationally is because we have limited will power. We know that exercise is good for us. We understand that junk food is bad. But we cannot follow through on our rational desires. We plan to run for 30 minutes, but after 10 we get off the treadmill, and convince ourselves we are a bit stiff today. We try to cut down on empty calories, and then grab a handful of M & M’s from a candy bowl, almost unaware of our action. No single M & M caused anyone to have diabetes. No one experienced a heart attack because they were 20 minutes short of their exercise goal. And yet our lives, our waistlines even, are the result of thousands of such decisions and behaviors.
To improve ourselves, we have to act like each M & M matters. Like each decision has important consequences. To do this, it helps to make rules and follow them. Commit yourselves to no candy, no desserts, and you’ll become more mindful of M & M bowls. Run outside, rather than inside on a treadmill, and you’ll be forced to finish your running loop. Tell a friend you’ll walk with them for 30 minutes this afternoon, and you’ll be forced to show up.
Want to save more money? Have some money automatically deposited into a savings account that you cannot access easily through ATMs, debit cards or checkbooks.  Sometimes the best way to behave better when you are weak is to impose martial law upon yourself when you feel strong.

This passage gets at an irony, a contradiction, in consumerism. Consumerism proliferates on the basis of the ideology of choice; we believe that thanks to consumerism, we get to make meaningful choices in the marketplace all the time and these extend and enrich our identity. But in fact, these choices tend to become reflexive, unconsidered—we fail to recognize their important consequences, or at least misconstrue them. The more retail decisions we make, the less important any one of them seems to our lives generally. We feel the meaning slipping away from us, our identities diminishing. One response is to force ourselves to make more choices in search of that diminishing meaning at the very moment we need to be taking decisions out of our own hands, or better, locating meaning in some other aspect of our lives. So consumerism basically prompts us to value choice more while making our choices in practice less meaningful and significant. So suddenly we are left wondering why our choice of blueberry over boysenberry jam hasn’t had a lasting impact on our existential weltanschauung.

by Chris Catania

18 Dec 2008

When I first read about Live Music Blog writer/photographer Andrew McMahon’s attempt to see 20 concerts in 20 days back in mid-September, I saw his audacious attempt as a heroically intriguing two-week experiment done in the name of live music fans who love and live for live music.

Unfortunately, when covering live music, I don’t get to sit down and talk with other fans or music writers very often because I’m usually writing about what’s going on onstage and not in the minds and hearts of the fans, so I also saw his adventure as a chance to explore and discuss the universal emotions felt by live music fans. As I vicariously watched and read through his blog post during his trip, I was both curious and excited to see how the trip would turn out. Would he end up loving live music more or return wishing he never attempted such a feat?

As we talked at coffeehouse on Chicago’s Northside a few weeks after his trip, Andrew’s adventure turned out to be an excellent platform to discuss why, as fans and critics, we spend so much time, money and energy, thinking, photographing and writing about live music.

From his pre-trip emotions to his first concert experience ever at a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert in 1992, he explained what led him to attempt his 20days/20bands goal, which ended up falling short when Mother Nature tossed a welcomed wrench into his plans. Our chat also encouraged me to think more about what it means to walk the line between fan and critic when writing about live concert experiences.

When did you first think about trying to accomplish the 20 bands in 20 days trip? Had you been thinking about this for a long time?
Not really, it was something that just happened to be on my calendar and I was looking at my schedule to the next few months and realized that I was going to be seeing a lot of concert in the next few months. Live Music Blog is always trying to find interesting things to give our readers. Of course, with a blog like ours your want to be posting everyday and you want to provide the type of news that music addicts crave and the reason we’re writing is because we’re music addicts, too. We also want to be doing something unique every once in a while. My adventure just sort of blossomed out of my Google calendar because I was also planning a trip with some long-time friends from home. We were going to camp in the southwest and it just so happened that we were going to see a lot of shows, too. One-third of the shows were here in Chicago and two-thirds we’re in the southwest.

What were some of your emotions, thoughts and expectations before the trip?
Before something as crazy as this, you always think it’s going to be easy. I was also wondering whether or not, I had the energy to tackle this and stay awake to 2 a.m. for five nights. The first three days of shows in Chicago was the easy part. As you know, going to the shows isn’t always the hard part, the hard part is afterwards, and finding time to sit down and write about the shows, going through the photos, editing them and getting everything up on the site.

When did the hard part of the trip set in?
It didn’t start to get hard until I got to the Monolith festival. Festivals are physically exhausting to cover and Monolith might the one of the most exhausting to cover along with Lollapalooza because they’re so big. I haven’t had the luxury of covering a camping festival like Bonnaroo or Rothbury. I’ve been to Bonnoroo but I can’t imagine covering it because it’s so huge. Going to a festival like Lollapalooza, just as fan and tying to see the bands you want to see is tiring. And I’m not like professional photographers who carry around 30lbs of camera equipment for 12 hours. At Monolith you have to go about a mile up going from the parking lot to the venue. After a few beers, and the up and down on the stairs, your hamstrings really started to feel it.

What was your overall plan?
Our itinerary was to see three bands in Chicago, go to Monolith in Colorado, go camping in the southwest and then head to California for My Morning Jacket in LA and Street Scene in San Diego. So the camping aspect of our trip really allowed us to rest which was nice.

You mentioned in your last post about your trip that Mother Nature kept you from accomplishing your goal.
The reason that we came up short was that we were supposed to go to San Diego but we decided to stay at Lake Powell for an extra day. Once we got there we realized that missing a few concerts to enjoy the beauty of nature was well worth it. I also ran into a problem when we got into the dessert and I couldn’t post without internet service. I’ll have to factor that in next time.

In your second post during your trip, as you were heading to Monolith festival, you mentioned your editor Justin Ward’s experience struggling with “live concert burnout.” You were concerned about your adventure becoming a “task” or a” race” and having it negatively affecting your relationship with live music. What type of impact did the trip have on your relationship to live music?

It’s tough for me to see really understand what burnout means from Justin’s perspective because I don’t have the burden of running the site like he has, with getting tons of emails, figuring out the direction of the blog, editing our posts. And he doing all that while trying to maintain his relationship, trying to keep it untouched and growing. But I can’t imagine what it would feel like to have that cathartic moment like he did and start to feel like it’s turned into a job. I know that nobody who loves live music ever wants to feel like that.

For me the stress in my life comes from trying to balance covering live music with being a Graduate student at University of Chicago. It’s nice to be able to go to a concert from 9 p.m. to 2 a.m. after getting crushed by hours of reading. Being in school allows me to have that type of schedule; but I never get into the mood where I feel the work or the music writing part of going to concerts is overwhelming. The ‘20 bands adventure’ was a little experiment to see if being 25 was actually catching up to me or not. I’ve heard from older friends that you start to feel it more around my age. [chuckles] And I found out that it was truer than I originally realized or wanted to admit before the trip.

What made you want to start writing about your concert experiences on Live Music Blog?
For me writing about my concert experiences is my way of getting experience in music writing and media and have a creative outlet in something I really like to do. Because when you get older you can’t just get drunk, have fun and go see a band; you have start asking yourself ‘why am I doing this?’  ‘why am I spending a thousand dollars a month and not get anything out of it.’ So you incorporate something like writing for a website and taking photos which gives it more consistency and meaning. I’ve only been doing this for a year.

Have you had moments yet where it felt like a job?
Not yet. I think that might happen if I did do this full-time but right now I get to choose what shows I go too which keeps it fun. I haven’t felt too overwhelmed yet, but I was tired after the ‘20bands’ trip.

How long have you been going to concerts as a fan before you started writing and photographing your experiences?
I got caught in the tail end of the Phish phenomenon, which appears to be coming around again. I went to undergrad in Boston and went to a lot of shows there. But I’ve never gone to as many shows as I do now. Chicago is awesome because you have so many venues and styles of music within a close radius. I can just hop on my bike and go to a show.

You wrote about your experience at Red Rocks during Monolith with a lot of wonder and excitement focusing on how the surroundings had an impact on the music. How much of an impact did the atmosphere play in making it a memorable live show for you?

I always think it’s cool to experience music in new venues. I had never been to Red Rocks or the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles. Those two places are really mystical when you grow up listening to music, especially if you’re trading tapes like I was, and you see the name of the venue written on the tape you wonder what that place is like . You get to go there and check it off your list is one of the best parts of going on trips like I did. Seeing the sun go down at Red Rocks and you can see Denver starting to light up while Holy Fuck and White Denim played was a beautiful experience. The White Denim show was my favorite show of the year. I hadn’t seen them before. That’s what I love about live music: it has a progressively moving forward aspect, where you discover new bands when you least expect and that new band becomes one that you look forward to absorbing and seeing live again. The White Denim show was definitely one of those moments.

Were the friends you traveled with big live music fans like you are?
Not really. They’re music fans but not at the level that I am, necessarily. I pushed my buddies to accomplish the goal because it’s hard to push non-music fans to see that many shows at once. I was surprised at how much fun they really had because my buddies are not as big as music fan as I am. It worked out better than it could have because festivals can be fun to go to even if you’re not a huge music fan because there’s a lot to enjoy beyond just the music.

In your final post you wrote that “…with every great plan, there are changes, compromises and unexpectedness…” How did you feel when you realized you weren’t going to accomplish your goal, coming up five bands short?
We went to LA and camped for an extra day and after that stop my friends were reluctant to drive back to San Diego for the Street Scene Festival because we had already driven 2,000 miles at that point. We had a mini-argument when we had to discuss what we were going to do. It was really hard for me to concede because of the commitment I made to the Live Music Blog readers; but we had traveled as a team. My other friends had hit the wall with the concert going and that made me the odd man out so I had to go with the majority vote and skip the San Diego portion of the trip. After awhile I felt pretty good about staying in LA to enjoy the rest.

In a pre-trip post, you joked about “…warming up my rock and roll legs here in Chicago where I have a “solid fan base…”  Did the trip allow you to experience any similarities to what a band might experience during a tour?

I realized how expensive it is to travel across the United States. When you’re growing up you always think how sweet it would be to travel like a band does. But a lot bands would probably tell you that mid-tour it’s not all that great; you’re dirty and tired of sleeping in a van. Sure you’re doing what you love and you wouldn’t sign up for it if you didn’t but it gets really hard after awhile. I would image that what makes a band soldier on while traveling are the moments when they play for a great crowd and have that electric connection.

But after a while our trip started to make me think of how hard a band works to deal with traveling and touring constantly. I also thought about my days in Washington D.C. when I would help my friends breakdown their gear after a show. To do that and then get in the car immediately drive to the next show must be a real grind. This trip made me have a real respect for the van warriors who live hand-to-mouth.

What was your first live music experience?
Red hot chili Pepers Blood Sugar Sex Magic tour in 1992. My dad took me to it. He thought the song “Suck My Kiss” was called “Suck My Dick” It was pretty funny finding that out.

He wasn’t too familiar with their music, was he?
[chuckles] No he had no clue. He was the old dude sitting in the stand the whole time. But after the show he said “Hey, it was pretty good show except for that “Suck my Dick” song.”  I thought that was pretty funny and I told him the right song title. My first show by myself was Widespread Panic and then I also went to the first Lollapalooza tours in 1997. I’ll always remember those as some of my favorite shows even though I can’t believe I actually saw The Offspring.

Why is live music so important to you? What do you love about it the most? 
The best part about for me, and just music in general (and this is true of a lot of mediums of art) Your either getting the studio production part of it or the performance production. For example, ballet, musicals and stage theatre, you never get to see how it would be if they could do takes and perfect it. And with sculpting you see the final piece but don’t see them in action. But with music not only do you get to experience the studio version, you also get to see the fallible side of the artist. And that to me is what makes live music so special. A band can get up there and play like shit live or be geniuses at improvisation. There are several bands that can make a great album but just can’t pull of what they do in the studio live in concert. There are bands like Phish or the Grateful Dead who never really made a great album that was better than their live show.

Live music also offers the great opportunity for the transfer of emotion between a band and an audience, and that is probably the best and most unique part about it. It’s what keeps fans coming back because you can truly feel connected to what the artist is doing on stage.

Did you have any of those moments during your trip?
No, not really. Aside from the White Denim show I really took the whole trip in stride. I think when you’re younger you’re on a quest to find that perfect improvisation that you can’t find in the studio so you find it elsewhere. And when you get older you’ve seen so much music that you get a little more pragmatic about it. You know a good show when you see it and you lock on a song or two and you’re not drinking a beer or doing some other thinks that would keep you from seeing those moments, or the flipside which is drinking heavily during a show, doing that can make you think a terrible show was the best show ever. But when you’re covering shows as writer or photographer, drinking or doing drugs makes it really hard to do your job. And the truth is that after awhile doing a lot of drinking or drugs starts to detract from the show experience and getting the most out of music as an art form.

It is hard for you to separate being a fan and enjoying the show versus going as a reviewer of art?
Sometimes it is. But I’ve really enjoyed it writing about concerts and a lot of time I merge the two because there is a fine line between a live concert being just a social event and a performance of art.

What do you think is the most important of the Five Senses when it comes to enjoying live music? If you have to give up one sense what would it be?
That’s an interesting question. Of course one of the benefits of live music is seeing the music performed but anyone who really enjoys live music is there to hear it, so I’d say hearing is the most important. I wouldn’t think taste would be important unless of course you’re doing one of the things we were just talking about. I’d take an obstructed view of Phish’s Hampton show in a heartbeat just to be there and hear it live. I think about the people who went to see Radiohead at Lollapalooza, minus the TV screens, they were like ants on the stage but the fans still piled in to Grant Park to hear them.

Since you came up five bands short would you ever try doing this again?
I wouldn’t necessarily plan it again. But if the opportunity was there again, I would give it another shot. [chuckles] I’m always up for a good challenge.

What would be your live music dream assignment?
I would like to do is a photo essay of a band from the beginning of the night to the end. I’m thinking of the Brazilian band, CSS, who’s lead singer LoveFoxx wears unbelievably colorful and outrageous costumes. I’d love to follow the band during one of their shows to capture them getting ready before a show.

Note: My conversation with Andrew took place in November, a few weeks before Editor Justin Ward decided to put Live Music Blog on hiatus. A special thanks to Andrew, Justin and Live Music Blog for making this conversation possible.

by Bill Gibron

18 Dec 2008

As the end of the year approaches, there is a flood of new films entering your local Bijou. Sure, some have been out for a while, but only in limited release. As awards consideration becomes key, the studios are finally letting the mainstream see many of their very best. For the week before Christmas, 19 December, here’s the films in focus:

Gomorrah [rating: 8]

Tinsel Town can indeed be blamed for making such ‘made’ man movies compelling. Director Matteo Garrone shows us how truly disturbing and unrelenting such a story can be.

It’s all Hollywood’s fault. As far back as the earliest days of the cinematic artform, gangsters and mobsters have been romanticized into outsized figures of operatic grandeur. They are depicted as above the law slicks that take life by the throat and wring out every last ounce of power and influence. The culmination of this concept came in the post-modern movement of the ‘70s. Between Francis Ford Coppola’s mafia as Greek tragedy, The Godfather, and Martin Scorsese’s high strung Manhattan goombah’s (Mean Streets, Goodfellas), La Cosa Nostra has become synonymous with flowered filmmaking. read full review…

Synecdoche, New York [rating: 7]

Clearly centering on the battle between the sexes and the always intriguing collateral damage from same, Charlie Kaufman’s latest example of screenplay extrapolation begins with an obscure definitional allusion…and ends in some sort of self-referential apocalypse.

Love isn’t easy. Neither is life. Both bring us so much sorrow and pain that it’s weird how obsessive we are over each one. We covet them both, loathe the times when we are without them, and wonder why we are being picked by the All Powerful to have neither when others around us seem absolutely flush with same. In Charlie Kaufman’s latest Rubik’s Cube of a film, Synecdoche, New York, a theatrical director with oversized ambitions channels his ongoing issues with existence and emotion into a massive interactive happening that eventually hamstrings his entire being. As he moves through wives and mistresses, daughters and gender bending doubles, he slowly loses track of time, his muse, and eventually, his identity. Sounds like someone who’s spent every waking moment looking for both of those elusive ideals, right?read full review…

Slumdog Millionaire [rating: 10]

(T)his is perhaps the best film of Boyle’s already illustrious career - and this is the man who gave us Trainspotting, Millions, and 28 Days Later, mind you.

We all want to escape - our sense of self, our worthless lives, those moments of unfulfilling social conformity. Yet few of us have to literally run for our salvation. Hope usually comes in a moment of clarity, a well learned life lesson, or the unexpected aid of a close friend or family. In essence, karma can occasionally step-in and re-right the order of things. If you have to sprint afterwards, it means that something about your cosmic disposition still isn’t settled. For most of his life, Indian street kid (or “slumdog”) Jamal Malik has been running - from persecution, from pain, and from the poverty that threatens to swallow him whole. Yet it’s within this setting that fascinating filmmaker Danny Boyle finds a ray of solid cinematic hope. He takes it and turns it into what is, unquestionably, one of 2008’s best full review…

Yes Man [rating: 6]

With a premise far more promising than anything offered up onscreen, and a star treading water where once he tore **** up, Yes Man is a comedy in theory only.

It’s a very interesting question indeed: outside of a single turn as the voice of a cartoon elephant, is Jim Carrey still a viable box office draw? Better still, in a world filled with Apatow-inspired bromance slacker comedies, are his rubber-faced, Jerry Lewis on Jolt Cola antics still funny? His last two live action roles where nothing special (Fun with Dick and Jane, The Number 23) and he’s had a couple of high profile projects (Ripley’s Believe It or Not, with Tim Burton, for one) fall through. But now, the man once known for literally talking out his ass is back, hoping to garner a bit of that Liar, Liar cred that made him one of Hollywood’s most bankable buffoons. Unfortunately, Yes Man is so subtle in what it tries to accomplish that Carrey’s over the top shenanigans don’t satisfy. Instead, they stand out like an incredibly dated sore thumb. read full review…

Seven Pounds [rating: 6]

Told in an initially engaging, yet eventually aggravating piecemeal style, Seven Pounds is either a wonderful weeper or two-thirds of an actual mainstream film.

If there is one genre that’s in desperate need of a post-modern make-over, it’s the tearjerker. Comedy gets retrofitted every few years, while the action film scours the globe for as much Hong Kong parkour butt kicking uniqueness as possible. Even horror goes through its commercially mandated cycles (we’re back to slasher, FYI). But for those who like a good cry, the weeper stands steady, static and virtually unchanged. It’s always the same disease-of-the-month, only-the-good-die-young dynamic overhauled with a new set of A-list actors and the typical formula of maudlin manipulation and emotion tweaking. Seven Pounds wants to change all that. It wants to earn its pain in a nontraditional, uniquely ambitious manner. And if anyone can sell such an unusual take on this kind of material, it has to be the current reigning box office king, Will Smith, right? Well…read full review…

The Wrestler [rating: 9]

Darren Aronofsky’s sensational The Wrestler marks a major comeback for Mickey Rourke and ‘70s style filmmaking in general.

Man is not a perfect machine. He is flawed, easily broken, capable of incredibly feats and destined to die off damaged and corrupt. Luckily for most of us, we don’t rely on our bodies to earn our keep. While we need our physicality to function, we are usually not graded or rewarded on it. The athlete, on the other hand, sacrifices his engine every competition, seeking out the structural disrepair we strictly avoid to march one inch closer to immortality. What they never quite understand, however, is that such everlasting fame is elusive and very rare. Even worse, there’s dozens of wannabe replacements all eager to prove their indestructible full review…

//Mixed media

Notes, Hoaxes, and Jokes: Silkworm's 'Lifestyle' - "Ooh La La"

// Sound Affects

"Lifestyle's penultimate track eases the pace and finds fresh nuance and depth in a rock classic, as Silkworm offer their take on the Faces' "Ooh La La".

READ the article