Saturday Night Music

 

Gillian Welch and David Rawlings

Time (the revelator)

Mo' Movies Review: Beasts of the Southern Wild

A..... post-Katrina Uncle Remus Joseph Campbell hero’s journey Norse saga Terry Gilliam magical realism Eco-apocalyptic fable- ALL on a po’boy bun! You’ll need more than two hands to handle THIS whopper. Sure, it’s a tall tale but the really big whopper is the inscrutable swooning gushing forth from the main stream critics (Ebert, the Times A. O. Scott) who seemed to have succumbed to some unseen siren’s call and crashed themselves blissfully on the rocks of delirium. Read their reviews with wary mind and a syringe of insulin.

Like most, I read the glowing reviews and on the face of it, this is an interesting and seemingly original tale. Especially compared to the tripe churning from Hollywood’s loins these days. But drilling down past the sentimentality, the precocious young girl actress who seems to have bewitched all, a heart of darkness engulfs and the sweetness sours. There is something just wrong with this film.

Briefly:

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Hush Puppy who lived with her Daddy in a place called the Bathtub. It existed on the wrong side of a levee in the Louisiana Bayou where any major storm could come along and the ocean would reclaim it for its own. Folk were poor, living off whatever the sea would provide: food, money from what they could catch and sell, the flotsam and jetsam providing material for shelter. Different races lived side by side in harmony, solidarity and independence from the outside world-that which existed on the other side of the levee. Unlike those outsiders who celebrated but once a year, the Bathtub denizens partied often, with glee and gusto, drink and food aplenty. Hush Puppy was wise beyond her years, knowing that everything in the universe is connected. She was taught in school that an Eco-Apocalypse was coming and she imagined that the Auroch-a long-extinct gigantic hog- like creature, would thaw out and come to destroy the weak, like her. Her daddy was a rough man but he meant to teach his heir apparent to be self-reliant and tough for, alas, he was ill. A big storm came and nearly destroyed the Bathtub, first with water but later with salt-poisoning from the invading ocean. Men from the Bathtub lead by Daddy, dynamited a hole in the levee to let the ocean out of their land. The government discovered that there were people still out in the Bathtub and forced them to evacuate “for their own good.”

Ok. At this point, you’re thinking-oh, such an Eden. Such joyous humans. Such fierce independent beings. Bad, Bad government. And such a bright little girl. What an imagination on that little peeler!

But wait. Let’s have a reality check. Daddy is a violent man. A violent man. If he isn’t physically hitting Hush Puppy, he is yelling at her, demeaning her. In fact, he talks like he is disappointed she is not a boy. He constantly says “hey, man” to her, “you're gonna be the king one day” and refers to her in male terminology. Only when he demeans her-to scold her, he finally acknowledges her gender-”oh you are just a weak little girl”. In his mind, he is being tough to make her tough in that uneducated, trash logic. The denizens of the Bathtub are not the brightest. Drunk much of the time. Living in incredible squalor. Yet the film tries to romanticize this in the most egregious of White attitudes: the noble savage. A.O. Scott of the Times even tries to tag them with a Libertarian label because they ran out of the shelters in an imagined act of declining government help. Noooo. They don’t have a clue what Libertarian means. Their act was not political, it was the act of near feral beings who were running back to reclaim that scrap of land that they considered theirs.

Ebert and Scott, didn’t you get the title? BEASTS of the Southern Wilds refers to the humans as much as to the critters.  And it ain’t a compliment. C’mon now. What do these people do? What are their concerns? Hush Puppy gives the clue when she talks about critters: “they just be eatin' and shittin'”. I would add fucking and drinking. How do they solve problems? Daddy doesn’t call up the UN. No, his default is violence. His kid sasses him, he smacks her. The authorities mess up his land, he blows a hole in the dike. The hurricane comes to destroy his stuff, he shoots at it with a shotgun.

You want to go down the stereotype lane? OK, what the director/writers have done here is portray yet again the big, bad ass nigger. Angry, aggressive, animal-like in his demeanor and his desires. Women are only sexual objects-his wife seen through his eyes as hot hot hot. Hell, she sets shit on fire when she walks past.

More objectionable is the sexualization of Hush Puppy and her girl pals. Late in the film, she decides to look for her mama. They take off swimming and are picked up by a tug and are taken to a floating whorehouse. The women there are shown to be the stereotypical whores with the hearts of gold-cooing, lavishing the young girls with attention supposedly because they haven’t seen children, only men for sooo long. Yet, in the dancing scene, they hold the young girls like lovers not children. Very creepy.

And what of Hush Puppy? Abandoned by her mama, hurt and demeaned by her daddy and now he is dead. Does anyone actually think she is ok? Has she learned enough lessons to survive? In the real world, no. But the film tries to make her out as the queen apparent of the Bathtub, ready to rule.

The inclusion of the Aurochs-silly. Yeah it gives the cache of weirdness and mysticism to the film. They bow down to the big bad girl/queen of the Bathtub. Pretty obvious these guys have watched Terry Gilliam. And, it throws in another dash of pet Liberalism the film makers seem to exude-Al Gore's Global Warming.

Worse, sending Daddy off in his flaming truck/boat to join the relatives in Bathtub Valhalla, while the mourners recite Bathtub tribal liturgy made me cringe for the pretentiousness of it all. Oh please.

I’ll give the crew who made this film their due: they crafted a good looking film on a shoestring budget. On the extras reel you can see how they created the illusions and again, well done there. But frankly, what was it that made the critics swoon? Original? Compared to the recent Zombie/Vampirethons, the endless remakes and mining of Marvel Comics,well, yes it is. But it doesn’t stand up to much scrutiny which I feel the mainstream critics failed to do or chose not to. I can only recommend this for those who want to see what the hoopla was about.

Bin was disturbed by the Aurochs and decided to give the whole film a pass. He muttered something about them being vaguely familiar and disappeared for the afternoon to hang out in his safe place under the evergreens.

Feel like comparing films? Watch Terry Gilliam's Tideland. Yep, it has a creep factor and he caught a huge rash of pillorying from many critics for….sexualization of a young girl. Take a look at his fable telling and compare. Look at his visuals. Beasts pales in comparison. Warning, it’s a tough film with a tough subject matter. But afterward, wonder as I did how the director of Beasts got a pass and Gilliam did not. Why Beasts was gushed over, nominated for a boatload of Academy Awards and Gilliam had tomatoes thrown at him.

For a blistering review, strap yourself in and read bell hooks's thoughts on this film. Now, she has been and continues to be quite the uncompromising bomb thrower of the feminist movement's radical wing. Having said this, I found her take on this film evocative and I found several times that she expressed what I was feeling but unable to put my finger on. 

Mo' Movies Review: Ted

This first feature film by Family Guy creator Seth McFarlane offers little deviation from his usual schtick: 8^th grade level raunchy and crude gags, fart jokes, ridiculous people and situations, and a serious penchant for creating heretofore innocents into foul mouthed, selfish creatures who revel in drugs, booze and hookers. In Family Guy, it was baby Stewie-here, it is a teddy bear aptly named Ted.

The Fable: 6 year old freak kid with no friends wishes upon a falling star for a lifelong pal and viola! the universe grants his wish in the form of a talking and sentient teddy bear. Ted, whose accent channels Cheer's Cliff the mailman, becomes an overnight sensation when revealed to the world. But true to the 15 minute rule of celebrity, he fades into obscurity. Flash forward-the kid is 35 years old (Mark Wahlberg), works a loser job at a car rental place and basically spends most of his time getting high and drunk, watching kid stuff on TV with Ted. His ever suffering (but hot) girlfriend (Mila Kunis) reaches the end of her rope with a boyfriend whose best buddy in the whole wide world is a talking teddy bear.

Standard, predictable story line here: boy has girl, loses her multiple times, yet defying logic wins her back. Ahh, the power of love and pretty dumb people. McFarlane pretty much reruns his Family Guy stuff here and exhibits his ability to both have awfully poor taste jokes (a pile of crap left on the floor by a hooker) and sharply hilarious (how Boston girl’s orgasm sounds).

Yet, McFarlane keeps it marketable. As gross as he is, he doesn't turn off his target audience of 15-34 year old males. I mean, if he really wanted to push the envelope, he could have had the girlfriend trying to compete with a Ted who gave blowjobs. She'd no longer be needed if you follow the logic of the gag. What a situation! But, that would seriously freak out his ever homo-phobic demographic wouldn't it? Coward!

In the end, this is another installment of the man child franchise Hollywood has been churning out for the past 15 years. In true tradition of the industry, beat something to death while you can still make money at it. But if movies reflect culture, what does this genre say about how men are viewed in America? Your choices according to Hollywood:

-Loser, terminally immature fools who can't figure out the simplest relationship with women

-Giant walking assholes with money who treat women solely as sex objects

-Cripplingly self-absorbed men who cannot relate to another human being no less have a relationship with one

-Extremely violent and psychopathic men who abuse women in a multitude of ways

-Gay 

The Dead Woman's House

As I often do, I had breakfast this morning by the picture window overlooking the big birch out back and the bird feeder. With the endless rains this week, I haven’t had a chance to fill the feeder. Several birds flew up, inspected for a couple of seconds and flew off, disappointed I am sure. This reminded me of the dead woman’s house in East Lansing.

Several years ago, I owned a shipping company and part of the business was estate work. I had gotten a call from someone’s daughter and arrangements were made to come to her parent’s house, package up items and ship. She had dropped off the key and on the appointed morning, I arrived ahead of my crew.

The craftsman style house was a time capsule, the décor frozen at a certain period in history. The husband had been a professor and he and his wife were travelers, mainly to the Orient. Artifacts were abundant in the form of art, photographs, sculptures, rugs. Books concerning Asia and Near East filled the many built-in bookshelves. I could see that the daughter (and probably others) had gone through and mined their treasures: tagged piles were on the floor lined against the walls and on tables. In the basement was a quintessential 1960’s rec room, his domain: with its wood paneling, ping pong table, slide carousel projector, portable screen and rack of photographic slides, no doubt from their many travels. A side room with a door to the outside was hers: a potting room with various gardening projects still on the bench. Because of this, I think he had died first.

It looked like not much had changed inside for many years. Nothing seemed modern, the walls needed paint. Photographs that had hung on walls for years left pale shadows of their shape when taken down. On the kitchen table and counters was her china. Typical of that house design, there was a window over the kitchen sink. Her view for all those years was a side garden dominated by a large tree and a bird feeder. A cardinal was there, flitting back and forth from a nearby shrub. The feeder was empty and I am sure the cardinal was thinking “Why is this empty? Where is that woman?”

So this is how it will end, I thought during that day of packing. A house stuck in time filled with favorite and irreplaceable items collected over the years. Talismans that trigger memories. Why change? There’s comfort with familiar sameness. Why paint the walls? No energy to do so yourself anymore. Can’t afford to have it done. Don’t want to bother the kids. Besides, the uproar, the chaos. Oh, it’s all fine. Just vacuum around the edges. Remember where we got that statue? And then, the other half is gone and you are asking and answering those questions only in your mind. You simplify and do less but the things you enjoy and have done so for years. Digging a weed. Put in a few annuals and a tomato plant. Fill the feeder. At least the birds need you

Washing up after breakfast, gazing out the window over my kitchen sink, I wondered: what will the strangers who come to clear our house see in what we have left behind? Those wall colors are clearly out of date. Good grief, a CD cabinet. A wall of books. Was she a professor? Lots of stuff on the walls. Did he do the artwork, take the photographs? They loved cats and wildlife. No children evidently. There are gardens. Look, out back by that ancient birch with an empty bird feeder. A cardinal wondering where they are.

Uncle Jeff Hollers

He sees you when you're sleeping

He knows when you're awake

He knows if you've been bad or good

So be good for goodness sake!

Another Day, Another Threat

It’s not easy being a young dictator following in your family’s footsteps. You try to keep up with their traditions and threaten the world on a regular basis but it’s sooo hard to come up new ideas. You want respect! But how can you have it if you trot out some retreads of your father’s? How lame.

Well, the solution is the Kim Jong Un's Threat-A-Day calendar! For just $19.99, you don’t have to think at all! Our well-beaten staff has worked very hard to come up with creative, controversial and particularly bellicose threats for you to have at your finger tips! Just think, you can get up in the morning and with your morning tea, flip over the sheet on the calendar and viola! A new threat that surely will piss off the Americans and frighten the bejesus out of the Japanese and those traitorous dogs to the south. Fabulous! Call up the Ministry of Information with your threat, sign a few execution orders and you can settle in to a leisurely morning of masturbating to internet porn.

Our writers have so cleverly worded the threats, that a mere change of a couple of words and nations, the user can adapt the Threat-A-Day calendar to most any circumstance, anywhere in the world. We have conveniently included an complementary editing pen with the calendar-a $1.03 value!

And, if you call us in the next 10 minutes, we’ll knock 10% off the price. Simply provide an article from Amnesty International or Human Rights Watch naming you as a tyrant, dictator, junta strongman, general threat to regional security or any other acceptable euphemism for a bad guy and the discount is yours! Operators are standing by 24/7. All major credit cards are accepted. Sorry, livestock and daughters are not. If your money is tied up in an off-shore account, please ask for Supervisor 371 when you call.

What are others saying about Kim Jong Un's Threat-A-Day Calendar?

Beats throwing shoes at the infidels -Al Jazeera

Voted Best New Tool to Rattle The West's Cage-Taliban Times

It's the best!-Bashar al-Assad

Mo' Music-12 Years and Counting

We have been in Afghanistan for 12 years making this conflict our nation's longest. Quick! Name a song about the war. Anyone? Buehler? Yeah, Nada. Nothing on the airwaves.  Not surprising considering how little debate no less discussion there has been about this and the truly bogus Iraq invasion in the public forum. Not like 'Nam is it? Welp-here's a couple of tunes by not-so-obscure artists. Lyrics are provided.

From 2004, John Fogerty

"Deja Vu all over again"

Did you hear 'em talkin' 'bout it on the radio

Did you try to read the writing on the wall

Did that voice inside you say I've heard it all before

It's like Deja Vu all over again

Day by day I hear the voices rising

Started with a whisper like it did before

Day by day we count the dead and dying

Ship the bodies back home while the networks all keep score

Did you hear 'em talkin' 'bout it on the radio

Could you're eyes belive the writing on the wall

Did that voice inside you say I've heard it all before

It's like Deja Vu all over again

One by one I see the old ghosts rising

Stumblin' 'cross Big Muddy

Where the light gets dim

Day after day another Mamma's crying

She's lost her precious Child

To a war that has no end

Did you hear 'em talkin' 'bout it on the radio

Did you stop to read the writing at the wall

Did that voice inside you say

I've seen this all before

It's like Deja Vu all over again

It's like Deja Vu all over again

From 2004-Tom Waits

"Day After Tomorrow"

I got your letter today
And I miss you all so much, here
I can't wait to see you all
And I'm counting the days, dear
I still believe that there's gold
At the end of the world
And I'll come home
To Illinois
On the day after tomorrow

It is so hard
And it's cold here
And I'm tired of taking orders
And I miss old Rockford town
Up by the Wisconsin border
But I miss you won't believe
Shoveling snow and raking leaves
And my plane will touch tomorrow
On the day after tomorrow

I close my eyes
Every night
And I dream that I can hold you
They fill us full of lies
Everyone buys
About what it means to be a soldier
I still don't know how I'm supposed to feel
About all the blood that's been spilled
Look out on the street
Get me back home
On the day after tomorrow

You can't deny
The other side
Don't want to die
Any more than we do
What I'm trying to say,
Is don't they pray
To the same God that we do?
Tell me, how does God choose?
Whose prayers does he refuse?
Who turns the wheel?
And who throws the dice
On the day after tomorrow?

Mmmmmmm...
I'm not fighting
For justice
I am not fighting
For freedom
I am fighting
For my life
And another day
In the world here
I just do what I've been told
You're just the gravel on the road
And the one's that are lucky
One's come home
On the day after tomorrow

And the summer
It too will fade
And with it comes the winter's frost, dear
And I know we too are made
Of all the things that we have lost here
I'll be twenty-one today
I've been saving all my pay
And my plane will touch down
On the day after tomorrow
And my plane it will touch down
On the day after tomorrow