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Friday, December 01, 2006 ( 12/01/2006 11:01:00 PM ) Bill S. A MESSAGE FROM THE GADABOUT TO NETWORK DRAMA PRODUCERS – Tonight's episode of Numb3rs officially marks the last time anyone can use a cover of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" to add heavy emotional weight to the last five minutes of their program. The only reason we, the audience, have let it go this long is because we all still felt bad about that Bird on A Wire movie with Mel Gibson & Goldie Hawn. But enuff is enuff . . . # | ( 12/01/2006 03:19:00 PM ) Bill S. WEEKEND PET PIC – A wild hair day for Ziggy Stardust? Every day’s a wild hair day for Dusty!  # | ( 12/01/2006 02:31:00 PM ) Bill S. "THE JOKE IS THAT BATMAN NEVER LAUGHS!" – That DC would inaugurate its new monthly series of comics featuring Will Eisner's "The Spirit" with a one-shot Batman/Spirit team-up may make marketing sense (even among many American comics readers, Eisner's Sunday supplement hero is more known as a piece of comics history rather than a vibrant character – while everybody knows the Batman), though it's up for grabs whether the end results actually work as a satisfactory introduction to Denny Colt & Friends. As scripted by Jeph Loeb and penciller Darwyn Cooke (the primary creative force behind DC's upcoming solo Spirit comic), "Crime Convention" centers on a plot cooked up by Spirit nemesis, the perpetually unseen Octopus, to attack a Police Benevolent Association gathering in Hawaii. Lots of Batman and Spirit villains partake in said scheme – with femmes fatale Poison Ivy and P'Gell swapping burgs, locking onto the police commissioners from Central and Gotham City and casting 'em both under their respective spells. Turns out Commissioners Gordon and Dolan know each other, of course, though neither one apparently has time to read up on the villainesses plaguing each other's city. And so poor Jim Gordon is seduced by that merry black widow P'Gell, while Dolan is sealed with a kiss from Poison Ivy. Meanwhile, back in their respective cities, Batman and the Spirit have taken note of the sudden migration of every "big-time crook" in their stomping grounds. Separately deducing that this new criminal alliance (which calls itself Friends of the World) is headed toward Hawaii, our heroes show up to try and quash the plan, though in the end it's the criminals' proclivity for double-crossing each other (why anyone would willfully attempt an alliance with the Joker is beyond me) that ultimately does 'em in. As in many of the Eisner "Spirit" stories – particularly the later ones – the heroes exist more to mop up afterwards than to actually prevent a crime from being committed. Though some effort is made to connect the two lead heroes' worlds in this book (during a speech to the PBA gathering, Commissioner Gordon notes the similarities between Gotham and Central City: "We both have a colorful gallery of rogues who seem to think they are above the law . . . and we both have a costumed vigilante who shares in the hard work while creating more than his fair share of headaches"), Loeb & Cooke wind up tweaking both series' casts to get 'em to work together. Thus, we get a Robin who speaks like the character in the 60's era teevee campfest ("Holy, torpedo, Batman!") and a P'Gell who is a much less ambiguous villainess than she was in the Eisner stories. (One of the great things about Eisner's version of the character was the way she managed to dance around responsibility for the deaths of her short-lived wealthy husbands – here, she's much less slippery.) Neither shift does much for either series of characters, though I've gotta admit that the flattening of one of Eisner's great comic seductresses is a bit more worrisome if it's meant to provide a glimpse into the way that Cooke'll be treating the monthly comic. For, despite Commissioner Gordon's words, "The Spirit" has less to do with a "colorful gallery of rogues" (contrast the number of quickly recognizable Eisner villains in this book with the number of Batman baddies: aside from the vulture-bedecked Mister Carrion, there really aren't that many in Eisner's universe) than it does a cast of urban schmoes and wise-guys who are more likely to have backed into a life of crime than actively pursued it. The great "Spirit" stories were seven- and eight-page nuggets focused around little guys who turn to violence because they lack the imagination to come up with a better solution. They weren't about elaborate larger-than-life killing schemes. Though Eisner wasn't above giving us an occasional mad scientist or criminal mastermind, the stories we most remember are the microcosmic ones like "Ten Minutes," where a neighborhood kid foolishly attempts to rob a soda fountain and it all goes wrong in the amount of time it takes to read the seven-pager. Cooke's art (inked by J. Bone, who I mainly remember from a Jingle Belle comic) is, admittedly, a kick. But in terms of atmospherics, it's probably closer to the work produced during WWII by the Eisner Shop when the man himself was in the service than the (admittedly assisted) Sunday supplements he created back from the war. We see little of Eisner's baroque Gregg Toland-influenced camera angles or the shadowy, drippy urban backdrops, though a sequence where both our heroes duke it out in a dark room filled with Hawaiian totems is a step in the right direction. Cooke & Bone are more successful with the small comic character bits (also a draw in Eisner's original): some choice irrelevant gags playing different villains off each other; an amusing scene where Barbara Gordon meets her dad's new girlfriend, P'Gell, for the first time; a shot of Denny Colt eyeing the streetlight that has snagged his coat. The book's cover is cute, too: a variation on the Batman-Faces-Off-Against-His-Co-Star cover, showing the Caped Crusader as his usual scowling self, while the Spirit smirks knowingly from his half of the frame. (A quick irrelevant movie thought: wouldn't Ben Affleck have worked better as Denny Colt than he did Matt Murdock?) It tells us almost as much about both leads as we get from the entire story, which may, unfortunately, be part of the problem . . . # | ( 12/01/2006 07:36:00 AM ) Bill S. JELLY OF THE MONTH CLUB – While not as great as their 30-second version of A Christmas Story, the new Angry Alien bunny cast retelling of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation is still plenty fun. But where's the scene where Clark gets stuck in the attic? # | ( 12/01/2006 07:02:00 AM ) Bill S. SNOW DAY – Most Fridays are a work-at-home day for yours truly, so watching the American Midwest go through its first snow storm of the season is a more restful than strenuous exercise this a.m. Outside, there's a pleasant haze of white in the air, and the lawn and street look largely undisturbed. Wish I hadn't held off stapling plastic over the back porch screens, tho . . . More later. # | Thursday, November 30, 2006 ( 11/30/2006 06:05:00 AM ) Bill S. VERONICA – Am I the only one who thought, "A little too Screamy, Rob," when they finally got to the conclusion of the campus rapist plotline in the Fall Season Veronica Mars arc? # | Wednesday, November 29, 2006 ( 11/29/2006 08:14:00 AM ) Bill S. MID-WEEK MUSIC VID – Because a full dose of Joplinitus is always good for the soul, because it's got a great lyrical message, and because sexist me can't help wishing that Beth Ditto played for a different team, here's the Gossip's "Standing in the Way of Control." (Dig them cartoon cameos.) # | ( 11/29/2006 08:06:00 AM ) Bill S. TIME WAITS FOR NO ONE – I'm not the biggest Tom Waits fan – while I admire his songcraft, his voice remains a big huh to me – but, c'mon, Daily Show, if you're gonna advertise a live performance on yer program, shouldn't ya air the entire song instead of cutting it off before the finish? # | Tuesday, November 28, 2006 ( 11/28/2006 06:49:00 AM ) Bill S. WHAT? NO BUTTERFLY EFFECT? – So Hiro learned last night that you can only change the past in small – not significant – ways: a law of the universe that he might've already known if he'd read more Silver Age Supermans instead of spending all his time learning the lyrics to the Merry Marvel Society theme song. Still, Masi Oka's enthusiastic time-traveler remains Heroes' heart-&-soul. # | ( 11/28/2006 05:54:00 AM ) Bill S. SPECS – Bought a new pair of glasses in the last week: my first new scrip in several years. I've worn glasses for myopia since the second grade, and at this stage in my life, I really can't see getting around much without 'em. There's a scene in House of 1000 Corpses where Rainn Wilson gets his eyeglasses taken by the psychotic sex kitten Baby (Sheri Moon) and, lemme tell ya, it's one of the few moments in that pic that really made me squirm. Like I say, though, I've needed a new pair for a couple years. Wife Becky has noted me looking like Terry Jones squinting through his wire-rims to read the World's Funniest Joke, and, even doing something as simple as vacuuming, I've managed to miss a lot of pet-related debris. Last few times both my wife and I had gone the get-yer-glasses-in-an-hour franchise route, but this time we went with a local eye doc. We both wound up feeling like we’d gotten more attentive eye exams this time. I do graduated bifocals: if I went with lined glasses, I'd need to get trifocals since I spend so much time at the computer, so it's probably a good thing I got accustomed to these types of lenses. The scrip for nearsightedness was lessened this time. I'm told it's not unusual for that to happen, as you grow older. All I know is that the world looks sharper and clearer all around me now – which may or may not be a good thing. I'll get back to ya on that. I am finding it easier to read manga digests, which is a definite plus . . . # | Monday, November 27, 2006 ( 11/27/2006 02:29:00 PM ) Bill S. ROADSIDE ATTRACTIONS – Recently, an acquaintance leant me a DVD of Rob Zombie's premiere horror opus, House of 1000 Corpses (2003). It's not, admittedly, a flick that I'd gone out of my way to see. Not being a big fan of Zombie the Musician (though I do have a collection of Halloween-themed music that has least one Rob track on it), I was wary of his cinematic debut – which I suspected was primarily designed to appeal to metal-addled teens. So I watched the disc over the weekend and found it to be modestly entertaining, most specifically in the opening sequences showcasing exploitation regular Sid Haig as a crotchety clown named Captain Spaulding (not to be confused with this guy – at least I hope not). It flails around tediously once Zombie's larger clan of boogeyfolk whip off their masks, tho. I've read several reviews disparagingly noting the movie's debt to the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but I saw closer connection to two lesser Tobe Hooper drive-in features, Eaten Alive and The Funhouse, in the way a seedy setting is used to trap unwary rubes. In House, our quartet of young patsies (among 'em bespectacled Rainn Wilson) winds up prisoners of a family of murderous lunatics who indulge in a hearty round of torture & butchery, freak show taxidermy, Satanic rites and lip-syncing to Helen Kane records. Director Zombie works overtime to keep it all visually interesting: tinting and solarizing and gritting up the camerawork during scare scenes, periodically inserting old monster movie footage and clips of Bettie Page (for that retro sleaze factor), flashing backward and forward – but the net effect is more messy than frightening. He does pull off a couple small moments: a slowwwww aerial back away as a deputy (The Shield's Walton Goggins) is about to get his head blown off is particularly striking. The camera moves so crawlingly that when my wife came into the room, she thought the DVD player had seized up. When the head shot finally comes, it's practically a relief. Still, the movie as a whole flubs its material. For a flick like this to work, you need to convince the audience – even if only for a moment – that at least one of its potential victims is gonna get out alive, if only so you can turn that false moment of safety back on the audience. I never once bought the possibility that any of these young idiots would make it to the end credits – and, of course, I was right. I'm told, however, that Zombie's sequel, UPDATE: Ken Lowery, in comments, notes that Zombie's sequel (which I apparently confused with Satan's Cheeleaders) is indeed a significant improvement. # | Sunday, November 26, 2006 ( 11/26/2006 04:13:00 PM ) Bill S.  "I'M WORKING EVERY HOUR, BUT I'M HEADING FOR A CRASH" – Of the myriad well-dressed synth lads who held sway in England during the new wave 80's, perhaps the greatest was the trio who took their name from Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of Clockwork Orange: Heaven 17. Spun off from the British Electric Foundation, which was formed by two ex-members of the Human League, 17 blended irresistible dance hooks, burbling electro-beats and sharp lyricism in a way that put most of the better known pretty boy bands of the era to shame, tho they never achieved the level of commercial success as, say, Duran Duran. With the reissue of the trio's first three albums – Penthouse And Pavement, The Luxury Gap and How Men Are (EMI) – we Americans have been given a second chance to discover the glory that continues to be Heaven 17 (the band is still, amazingly, intact). Most likely we'll blow it again, anyway.In America, the first original release of the band's premiere album had a somewhat different list and order of songs – it being someone's bright idea to take three of Penthouse's moodier songs (like "Song with No Name") and replace 'em with a couple of the poppier tracks from Gap. The new reissues give us the albums as they were originally released in Britain, which is a little disconcerting since I kept expecting "Who Will Stop the Rain" to show up, and it doesn't 'til the second disc. Penthouse opens with its "controversial" dance track, "(We Don't Need This) Fascist Groove Thang" (apparently, the BBC refused to play it), a slam against 80's conservatism that's dated lyrically ("Reagan's president elect/Across that big wide ocean"), even as its dance floor rhythms remain taut and overpowering. The band's openly left wing politics most likely didn't help when it came to getting airplay in this country, but it also provided (the angry "Groove Thang" aside) some of the group's more sympathetic lyrics. One of the themes of the first two discs in particular (as is probably apparent from their two titles) is the gap 'tween the haves and have-nots. In "Penthouse And Pavement," we're taken on an uptown/downtown trip, contrasting the two lifestyles, while in "Key to the World" (from where Gap gets its title), vocalist Glenn Gregory takes on the persona of a guy struggling to maintain a life of affluent poverty, dancin' as his maxed out credit cards rub against each other in his wallet. Perhaps the songs hit too close to home for a lot of dance club habitués? Musically, 17 centered around Ian Craig Marsh & Martyn Wire's synthesizers – with splashes of real horns added to Gap and Men – plus deep-voiced blue-eyed soulman Gregory. In a musical movement largely characterized by bland-voiced crooners, Gregory possesses a much evocative instrument: you believe him when he simultaneously pleads to be freed of a life of nighttime hedonism even as he wishes it could continue (the magnificent "Let Me Go"). In "Temptation," the band's biggest UK hit, Gregory plays against diva-esque belter Karol Kenyon to great effect, though to these ears, he's better singing alongside bandmate Wire. When he indulges in some "gather ye rosebuds" special pleading in "Come Live with Me," you know from his voice (and the song's slight musical nod to Jimmy Ruffin's "What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted?") that he's not gonna be successful. Which ultimately gets you sympathizing with the smarmy bastard. Men, the third release, isn't as consistently danceable as the first two discs. In tracks like the ten-minute "And That's No Lie," it's almost as if the band was attempting to produce its updated version of Aja, a jazzy improvisational refutation of the dance-pop singles-based songwriting that brought 'em their greatest musical moments. Not bad in a more arty atmospheric kinda way, but weak compared to earlier infectious dance screeds like "Crushed by the Wheels of Industry" or "Let's All Make a Bomb." Still, there are a few juicy pop tracks, "Sunset Now" and "This Is Mine" (which neatly mines a Steely Dan minor key r-&-b groove), in particular. All three reissues contain the obligatory bonus tracks – many of 'em remixes – but the real deal can be found on the back end of Penthouse And Pavement: the 12-inch version of non-Brit-album track "I'm Your Money" (perhaps the greatest ambivalent capitalist love song ever!) and a peppy synth-driven cover of the Buzzcocks' "Are Everything." That one of the great underappreciated synth-pop bands would do a track by one of the great underappreciated pop-punk units is the kind of musical history lesson only a hard-core American Anglophile could appreciate . . . # | |
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