The Skunkeye Consumer Guide

Yikes! It’s high time that I update this thing. My "stats" have been out of control lately for some bizarre reason – it’s probably because it has been on some tag or referral (I’m a luddite when it comes to these things) (s)hit-list or get indexed a lot or whatever. Anyways, I’ve appreciated the sweet notes from new readers. Hell, I barely pay attention to this thing myself. Obviously, given the lack of updates. But it always makes me happy when folks get interested and excited about new things I guess.

Unfortunately, nothing much is new in terms of developments in my world lately. I’ve been cash-poor and pre-occupied, and just been questioning everything in general – which doesn’t make for enticing or particularly original blog material. Oh, we finally got rain and it rained for a while and now it is colder. I still want to play outside. No better time to go the cinema, so I finally caught Capote.

I was approaching the picture with some trepidation because, on top of being somewhat of a Truman Capote completist, bipoics generally don’t make for great film and also I was worried that Philip Seymour Hoffman’s performance would be a total caricature… and that I would get really annoyed by the whole thing. Well, my fears were unfounded.

Hoffman was brilliant and entirely engaging throughout the whole piece, and turned in a performance which was completely credible. Audiences see an amazing balancing act at play; somehow the actor manages to channel a well-documented figure and make it not seem like liked a studied impression. At the same time, just when the audience his about to dismiss his character as opportunist and corrupted by fame, we are sympathetic. And it is a testament to the actor’s gifts that we are never once distracted by mannerisms which would otherwise seem forced -Capote himself was over-the-top. Hoffman totally carries the film and will probably be taking home many awards as well.

Biopics – cinematic adaptations of a biographical figure’s history and achievements - tend to fall into the trap of rehashing a historical figure’s life and achievement through various vignettes. I can hardly blame the filmmakers because usually the subjects are so interesting and lead such far-ranging and full lives that it would seem a disservice to eliminate any details. A complete life does not always make a good film, however. Although I admired Jamie Foxx’s performance and Taylor Hackford as a director, I felt the Ray Charles pic was swimming in some murky TV miniseries waters and did not think it was that good of a film. "Schematic" is the word methinks. For that reason, I’m also kind of of wary of Walk the Line, the soon-to-be-released treatment of my musical hero Johnny Cash. I’m hoping, rather than try to cram all the biographic points in, that the film will focus on his love story with June Carter. Because, after all, that is real turning point and crux of the performer’s mythos. Or at least it makes for a more engaging yarn.

This brings me to why I appreciated the narrative of Capote so much. By focusing on the few years of Truman Capote’s life when he was preparing, researching and writing his tour-de-force In Cold Blood, filmmaker, director Bennett Miller illuminates his subject’s life much more effectively than a blow-by-blow rehashing of a rough childhood, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, famous ball, talk shows, alcoholic decline… pla pla pla. I’m hoping a series of well-deserved best screenplay nods will rescue screenwriter, actor Dan Futterman, from more Judging Amy and Will & Grace supporting parts, because he really nailed it with Capote! The filmmakers have been exceptionally good editors. The publishing of In Cold Blood was the turning point in Capote’s career – he essentially sold his soul – as the film effectively illustrates - and whatever came before and certainly the rest of life was ultimately and inextricably affected by its success in our cultural memory. Film biographies are a tricky medium…

Artist turned cinematic auteur Julian Schnabel has mastered the form through his portraits of Jean-Michel Basquiat and Cuban poet and novelist, Reinaldo Arenas in Before Night Falls; maybe its because he is attuned to the process of his decidedly creative and flamboyant subjects - and was acquainted with the personalities, or at least tangently with their scenes.  Both films are examples of vivid film biographies that don't lay it all on.  I think it takes a certain highly selective control,and a deft shorthand to capsulize the highly dynamic in cinematic form effectively. In this over-saturized age, that kind of modern mythologizing takes some flair. And editing. Schnabel’s got two more biopics in the works: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, with Johnny Depp as paralyzed fashion-editor editor Jean-Dominique Bauby, and The Lonely Doll, about eccentric children's author Dare Wright. I can’t wait!

I must admit to falling asleep briefly during the denouement of Capote. Blame it on the lingering rain and the comfortable empty theater on a weekday afternoon and the somewhat solemn, chamber movement qualities of the film. At any rate, I was awakened by gun shots. Of course I’ve read In Cold Blood, and seeing the first cinematic adaptation – with Robert Blake as one of the killers - on Japanese television as a kid (for some reason the programmers were really into slasher/murder/exorcism flicks in providing English-language fare at the time) gave me nightmares. And I’ve read Capote by Gerald Clarke, which the film is based upon. So I didn’t need to fill in the blanks.

My grandmother and I used to get such a kick out of discussing the veracity and wickedly brilliant self-mythologizing of Truman Capote and his contemporaries like Lillian Hellman. I was one of those strange kids who was well-versed in such figures before I even turned legal and I’m hoping that the Capote film might turn the younger generations towards such pleasures. What a rich and colorful literary scene – and full of intrigue! Capote has the added boon of Catherine Keener as Harper Lee; The New Yorker’s William Shawn figures prominently – Richard Avedon, too - and my fave James Baldwin other figures are alluded to. That generation produced some great reads of course; the extent to which some of these writers twisted the facts and created their own histories within in their lifetimes is fascinating. In many ways, their kind of self-aggrandizing is not dissimilar to what we are experiencing with the blogging phenomena. Only in those days, correspondence was delivered by post. And getting published was a triumph experienced by few. In these high-speed days of Paris Hilton, the notion of everyone talking about a work of “literary non-fiction” is especially refreshing.

I’ve been meaning to post about the latest issue of Wallpaper* magazine, which features an impressive piece on my adopted hometown, Manila, where I lived and worked for several wonderful years.

I always maintain that Manila is perhaps the most cosmopolitan and culturally rich cities in Asia and it’s a rare experience to see the much-overlooked Philippines given complimentary treatment in the media. For a country that has some of the most beautiful beach and cultural destinations in the world, the Philippine islands are shamefully overlooked by the Western travel press.

Add to that, the Philippines is probably the design epicenter of Asia, possessing one of the richest and diverse artistic heritages in the region, and is a hotspot of talented and innovative designers, architects, craftsmen, and creative visionaries. DC residents only have to stop by Muleh to sample the talent. Hell, at least half of the product from Crate and Barrel and Pottery Barn and most home furshining and lifestyle chains originates in the Philippines!  So pretty much all our lives have been enriched through Filipino design talent!

I was referred to the Wallpaper* piece by my pare Carlos Celdran, who was interviewed for the story as the expert on all matters Manila (and whose lively walking tours are not to be missed – check out his amazing site, Walk this Way. Here’s Carlos’ take). Last week I finally got my hands on a copy of the issue and I must say I was delighted. Wallpaper* visited Manila back in 1998 while I was working there and I remember the lengths that many of my friends went to make the publication feel welcome and illuminate the city’s very much happening scene. The resulting feature did not represent the Manila in a particularly favorable or sophisticated or even interesting light and to this day I maintain a bit of apprehension when it comes to "tastemaker" Tyler Brûlé.

So Wallpaper* returned to the Philippines and this effort is more engaging. There are a few grammatical and factual errors and the spread is a bit Locsin-heavy (Wallpaper* is all about modernism but there are a quite a few more contemporary architectural landmarks they could have checked out) but overall nice treatment. And the photos are stunning!

Check out the issue at magazine stands now and find the Wallpaper* Manila City Guide here.   And book your trip to the Philippines!

Haha. Maybe it’s the shift in the weather but I find myself grooving to an amazing Pasko collection tonight. There’s a truism in the holiday-happy Philippines that it’s completely within protocol to start playing seasonal Christmas music in September and, indeed, I imagine the shopping malls have already got the party started. This particular recording features regional musicians from all over the archipelago- Ilocos, Palawan, Davao, and Negros Oriental and Occidental - performing traditional carols, many drawing from Spanish influences but absolutely unique in their range and heartfelt beauty – rivaling the scope of Harry Smith’s Folkways Collection.

We got some much-needed rain, the weather has cooled, the leaves are starting to change, and this weekend is finally feeling like autumn. I’m having a rather lazy Sunday, hanging around the house with my dog, just cooked up some chicken sausage with the remainder of the fresh basil and oregano with a pink vodka sauce and fettuccini, and am making my way through the papers and finishing up some recent New Yorkers. I’ve also officially entered the music downloading fray and am feeling my way around the new Fiona Apple and Franz Ferdinand while I wait for other torrents to complete. I think this suspect experiment of mine is already short-lived – I much prefer the experience of enjoying music the old-fashioned way (even though my habit is ruining my finances) and, besides, it takes too damn long to load!

I got a real kick from the Raymond Petibon profile in today’s New York Times Magazine. Petibon, whose work I was first introduced to through his Black Flag album covers as a kid and his iconic image on Sonic Youth’s Goo, has long been a favorite of mine and I had been wondering what he has been up to lately. Robert Storr’s comprehensive Raymond Pettibon holds a near and dear place in my art book library and this article provides further illumination on this iconoclastic artist’s life. Seeing Petibon’s work up close at that infamous 1993 Whitney Biennale really had quite an impact on me and I’ve made it a point to see his shows whenever possible (guess I’ll be making a NYC trip soon!). Maybe its time for the Hirshhorn to mount a Petibon retrospective? I know he’s not German or from the UK, but there’s a new curator now (who I am very impressed with), and a Petibon survey would be fresh, relevant, and as cutting edge as DC might allow itself to be. Or the Corcoran, which has been losing points with me for some time – I mean, I like Warhol as much as anyone but hasn’t there been enough of him lately? And, as I recall, the Corcoran mounted a Warhol show just a few years ago! Why not just bring the Jackie O frock display back?!

Anyways, I digress… Petibon’s work really speaks to me. I could go on forever about it - in short, I really dig the way he pulls together his myriad influences, combining text and and pen and ink drawing, to create these fantastic universes and narratives. About a month ago, The New York Times Magazine profiled hot Canadian artist Marcel Dzama, who is more my generation age-wise, and whose work gives me a similar kind of rush – and a bit of envy at his success. Due props to the Corcoran for including Dzama in their biennale four years ago, though – that’s where I first encountered his work. I don’t know if Petibon was an influence on Dzama or not, but both artists have a real deftness with the nib, display a strong gift for storytelling, and create these rich, wonderful and unparalleled worlds (with recurring themes and characters) that I find myself wholly drawn to.

I was going to post on the Dzama article a few weeks back and link the text but I was having too much fun at beach enjoying the sumemr to get around to it. Full text of NYT Raymond Petibon article after the jump.

For the privileged Greeley and McAllister clans, life in Pasadena is fairly close to perfect... at least on the surface. Will and Catherine McAllister have a seemingly solid family - except for the fact that he's covering up an affair, she's more concerned with status than love, their daughter Lilly is traumatized when a man kills himself in front of her, and a young upstart named Henry could uncover all the bodies they have buried. The new Fall season has started and in general I don’t tend to get all nelly about the telly. Just about the only shows I really will be following are Lost and NipTuck – and even those are trying my patience; I’ll check into Medium once and while because I enjoy Patricia Arquette. Oh, and I’m really into HBO’s Rome and Ricky Gervais' Extras is looking promising. I also hope HBO brings back The Comeback for another season, despite the recent announcemnet that it will not be renewed - if Lisa Kudrow doesn't get an Emmy nod for her nuanced turn as Valerie Cherish there is no justice. Its hard for me to get excited about new shows – especially the good ones – because they invariable get cancelled within the first season. Such was the case with Fox’s Pasadena back in 2001. Now that was innovative and intriguing television, and the critics loved it, but the network only aired four episodes (thirteen episodes were shot). As one might recall, that was 9-11 time, so I guess it was really difficult for any new show -especially a dark and edgy drama - to really get off the ground and find an audience given the climate. Myself, I enjoyed the diversion, and Pasadena was smart and entertaining. Think Dallas or Dynasty, post-Twin Peaks, with a wickedly dysfunctional family fleshed out with sharp, inspired writing and an engaging storyline and an appealing cast. The sad thing was that the show was really ahead of the curve – the OC and Desperate Housewives (which I don’t find particularly clever) lift many of its elements and have been hugely successful. Pasadena was created by Indie-film auteur Mike White, who wrote the shortly lived cult favorite Freaks and Geeks and later the screenplays for The Good Girl and School of Rock . Pasadena introduced the wonderful Alison Lohman to audiences; the brilliant young actress has gone on to star in Matchstick Men, White Oleander, and Big Fish. Hal Hartley leading man Martin Donovan (The Opposite of Sex) plays her father and Dana Delany (China Beach, now on some lame Lifetime hospital show) gives us a brilliant turn as the proto-Desperate Housewife. Rounding out the family members are Natalie Wood’s daughter and reincarnation Natasha Gregson Wagner (Lost Highway, High Fidelity), Balthazar Getty (Lost Highway) playing dangerously close to home as the troubled black sheep of the dynasty, Mark Valley (Keen Eddie – another great cancelled show also starring a pre-Jude Sienna Miller and now Boston Legal), and the legendary Philip Baker Hall (Magnolia, In Good Company, The Amityville Horror) as the patriarch. Well, imagine my delight when I learned that The Soap Network will be airing all thirteen episodes of Pasadena starting tonight and each Saturday, at 7 p.m. and 10 p.m. ET at 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. Fox dropped the show just when it was getting good – and there is a mystery thread that was left abruptly unresolved in the plot– at least now fans can have a bit of closure. Check local listings – this is television at its most delicious!!

Last night I was looking forward to settling down and enjoying part one of  Martin Scorsese’s Bob Dylan documentary, No Way Home, on PBS, but had the opportunity to catch a screening of Michael Almereyda’s William Eggleston in the Real World.  Thank god for DVR!  I look forward to immersing myself in a whole interrupted evening of both parts of No Way Home later this week – Scorsese is a master when it comes to these experiences and the subject can’t be beat!

The Eggleston documentary, which is being released by Palm Pictures, isn’t for everyone, especially those with limited attention spans and no interest in the creative process.  Almerevda’s portrait of the acclaimed photographer is quite slow-moving at times and requires a good deal of “filling in the blanks.”  With a passing familiarity of Eggleston’s body of work and biography, I found the film fascinating and rather poignant.  The portrait, filmed over the course of several years, observes the artist at home and follows him on the road, and includes clips from his pioneering video project the mid-seventies, succeeds in illuminating an almost Warholian aspect to Eggleston.  At the fore, is Eggleston’s gift for making the banal and commonplace extraordinary and pregnant through his art and the deceptively detached and off-hand manner in which he captures his images.  Quoting the film’s press materials: “What does it mean to see the world so differently that "common" images are converted into unforgettable photos?”  I think this documentary is probably the closest one can get to understanding what goes inside the photographer’s elusive head and as much as the subject will permit in his lifetime.

In a very Pop Art way, Eggleston uses processes ordinarily used for commercial or advertising work to develop his prints.  Like Warhol, Eggleston is also known for his rather unconventional coterie of friends and family, through art world reputation and also as documented in his photos and infamous video project.  A true iconoclast but very mush a gentleman of the South, Eggelston as a subject is laconic and brilliantly thrift with words in a manner rivaling Warhol’s famous pithiness.

There are some real heartbreaking qualities to William Eggleston in the Real World, no matter how cool subject seems to present himself to be. Though little imbibing appears on camera, its pretty clear the guy has a frightening history of drink. The camera often captures the artist stumbling around incoherently and one has to wonder how much of it is an act. Midway through the film, in Eggleston’s home base in Memphis, the filmmaker follows the artist through the night to his mistress’ house; a stopover to the liquour store, to conduct some “business” is mentioned.  Capturing at uncomfortable and candid angles what appears to be a typical evening together, with REM’s annoying “Shiny Happy People” blaring in the background, Almereyda films Leigh Haizlip deliver a wet-brained monologue on her own mortality while childishly sucking a lollipop on the couch, as Eggeleston produces a furious and incoherent sketch of his mistress, presumably to burned as previous efforts according to the boozy exchange. While he draws she drawls: "I watched my mother die of cancer, and believe me it's not worth it….better to shoot your fucking brains out."  Haizlip as the viewer learns, does indeed pass away from substance-related illness a few years later, sending Eggleston into a deep depression and rehab stay.  The more recent footage of Eggleston had me even more gravely worried about his health, but apparently the Good Ol’ Boy is fine, according to this New Yorker Talk of the Town piece from last week.  (Full text after the jump, worth checking out for illumination). 

Anyways, fascinating film.

So…. what else…

I caught Tim Burton’s The Corpse Bride the other day.  I was quite looking forward to it since I relish the Nightmare Before Christmas (and the Burton-produced James & the Giant Peach) so much and I admire Burrton’s art direction and his influences.  While Corpse Bride was enjoyable, it didn’t quite live up to Nightmare.  The score and the songs weren’t as inspired, the fairly simple story was milked a bit thin, and the wicked humor that was peppered throughout Nightmare made but a few weak appearances.  Also the collagen-lipped, busty corpse bride looked an awful lot like the recent onslaught of plastic surgery-enhanced actresses (yikes – Lara Flynn Boyle, Meg Ryan – you have irrecoverably destroyed your looks!), celebrities, and make-over victims and that has been a lingering pet-peeve of mine.  Maybe that bit was intentional on the creator’s behalf in retrospect.    I suppose the last quarter moments of Corpse Bride (the film is rather brief), when the dead rise up to join a wedding celebration, were the most brilliant and fun.   I don’t think its going to be a big classic.

Saturday night I met some friends who were staying at a “boutique hotel” near my house downtown called Helix.  I must say I wasn’t too impressed with the place – although it has a decidedly fun vibe – I think I’m just way over kitsch and the décor seemed kind of obvious – neon colors, tulip chairs, lava lamps, pop art-ish posters, etc… (like Urban Outfitters were the design firm) - and, even worse, slapped together. It just seemed all a bit self-consciously “hip” and forced and without seams and flow and discovery as one might expect from a pricey boutique hotel experience. The lobby scene, however, was priceless and full of hilarity as this weekend was a big protest get-together in DC so it was filled with out-of-town guests returning from the jamboree, haggard from marching and shouting in the streets in their dusty shorts and tees and still carrying their signs, some sporting mullets.  So much for style.  Even more of a trip was that, at the same time, a crew was filming an episode of MTV’s Sweet Sixteen in the hotel bar! 

We headed down 14^th to check out Bar Pilar, which I hadn’t been to yet since I haven’t been out all summer.  Bar Pilar is charming and is a real boon to the neighborhood and I’d like to go back on a non-protestor weekend just because it would nice to pretend I’m in a real European bistro.  Afterwards, we went next door to her big sister, Saint-Ex, where the music was unusually sucky (like late 80s Malaysian nightclub sucky) and the protestors were in full-force, dressed to the nines, of course. 

On Sunday I went to Baltimore again to check out the neighborhoods and admire a friend’s freshly and handsomely refinished house.  I tell ya, it’s a real surge for me to get out of tired DC - I feel great energy in Charm Cityand hope to be relocated there by the holidays!

I can’t say things have been particularly busy but I have been quite occupied lately.  In lieu of a proper update, I do recommend Coles Corner from the amazing Richard Hawley, recently given proper release in the US. Hawley is perhaps best known for his guitar work with Pulp and a few might be familiar with his own excellent band, the Longpigs.  He also produced/arranged/collaborated with A Girl Called Eddy on her spectacular Anti debut.  Coles Corner isn’t a huge a departure from Hawley’s previous solo releases, Late Night Final and Lowedges, and that is a good thing. I’ve been enjoying his music immensely the last two years, almost as much as my cherished early Colin Blunstone (Zombies) early solo albums – and that is saying a lot! Think Roy Orbison meets Scott Walker, yearning, hook-laden, timeless loves songs wrapped in cinematic production – Hawley is wonderfully old-school but his music never feels time out of place. Perfect for brooding, old-soul, music snobs types like myself, comforting even. Reminds me a bit of former Crime & the City Solution front man Simon Bonney, who disappeared in the late nineties after delivering two brilliant and evocative solo albums, and never followed through with his promise. Maybe his talent burned him out. Fortunate for us, Hawley is very much on a productive kick and doesn’t show any sign of letting up. Recommended highly. I’ve been listening to other stuff as well, including some exciting new music from France, and will update soon. Have to run off to another interview, to illuminate further his influences and the distinct regional aspect of his music, check out Richard Hawley’s press bio after the jump:

Freshly tanned and thoroughly healthy after some much-needed recovery at the beach, I actually experienced a full, fantastic weekend and am getting some confidence back - been so agoraphobic all summer! I am grateful that a dear friend in town for consultations from her post in Mexico is here with me. It was refreshing to do our old Georgetown drill this weekend in fantastic weather. We totally eschewed Adams Morgan Day, literally half a block from Casa Skunkeye; whatever city pride I’ve had has moved on. Seriously, I think I’ve been through Georgetown maybe once or twice since May… it used to be my stopping off point to catch a film and do some shopping en route to crossing the Key Bridge to visit with my grandmother in Arlington.

Saturday attended a grand art opening bonanza at the galleries at 1515 14th street. From all appearances and given the turnout, looks like the DC art scene is getting vital and energetic again. It was quite a circus and all the players were there. The space, next door to the newly-renovated Studio Theater, is really quite impressive. Too bad I’m hell-bent on Baltimore right now! Ground floor, in a temporary space that will be soon turned into a most-likely impossibly trendy and pricey restaurant, Viridian, by Furioso Development, was Wrinkle Free, a 30-year retrospective of Joe Cameron and Paul Feinberg's photographs of Washington artists. It was great to see the magnificent photo of my mother’s childhood buddy, Rebecca Davenport, and portraits of former neighbor Gene Davis and Sam Gilliam, both of whom my folks have had in their collections. In the upper-level, permanent galleries were, among others, Renee Stout's Fragments of a Secret Life at Hemphill (I was honored to chat with one of DC’s most-preeminent artist a bit), a mélange of Chuck Close, A Couple of Ways of Doing Something: Prints, Daguerreotypes, and Holograms, at Adamson (while he was not present for the festivities, I did meet the artist ten years ago!), and the impressive Symbioland: Works by Jiha Moon, at Curator’s Office.

Lest I forget, had a Feist reunion at the Birchmere in Arlandria  - the Mt. Pleasant of VA - on Sunday… The new venue has become kind of a comically-endearing local Grand Old Opry but vital nonetheless. Opening act, local-DC band, the Sketches, were excellent, by the way. The vibe and audience participation was drastically different than when I last visited Leslie in May at the Black Cat, but she and a significantly beefed-up band delivered an engaging, rollicking show. A moyen age chnateuse! Ienjoyed the Bacharach-like horns and the feverish rockabilly sway and the bossa-novish flourishes. The Let it Die standards are more rocking – Feist has moved on from her busker mode - which worked tremendously in developing a following here in the US - and the new material has potential – I’m looking forward to the follow-up to her debut. The crowd was just off, enthusiastic but maddeningly polite, and Feist & Company have been touring tirelessly, and charming Leslie seemed to be tempering the waters most of the time while delivering a powerhouse emotional and skilled performance to a namby-pamby audience - this gig did not urn into a sing-a-long.  All in all, it was a fantastic gig! As her official DC stalker/groupie, we exchanged a pleasant round of greetings after the show.

I also finally saw The Constant Gardener.  I must say I preferred director Fernando Meirelles’ City of God – that was a real triumph in storytelling.  Gardener just seemed a little predictable, even though there were clear attempts to be non-linear.  I've been reading so much about Africa lately I guess there weren't any surprises. Worth seeing though.

Just got back to DC from a much-needed week at the Beach House; I’m not too happy to return and as we got closer to the city that familiar knotting in my stomach starting creping up on me.  My time away was relaxing, productive, and healthy – my mother even says I got my glow and spirit back.  I read a considerable amount (thank you Paul Theroux for so entertainingly turning me off on the current state of the African continent, NGOs and V.S. Naipul!!!) and detoxed through a steady diet of sun, exercise, melon shakes and fresh fish. The weather and the surf were amazing – in fact, throughout the first few days I’d never seen the water so blue – almost like my familiar South China Sea - perhaps an indirect result of Katrina. 

It used to be at the Beach House that we barely had a land line.  Now we all have mobiles, and the house, as of two years ago, is equipped with television and internet connection. 

In times like Katrina, I am grateful for all that, as we were relieved to hear that our friends- family, really – found safe ground.  Usually, I prefer to be disconnected and out of reach, especially at the beach, but technology, while we were watching the horrors unfold, brought us a bit of solace and connectivity.  I must say I was impressed by the CNN crew – Anderson Cooper, Soledad O’Brien, etc… - for breaking the journalistic objectivity code and demanding of our government officials in the face of all this mismanagement and demading the obvious: “What the hell is wrong with you?!!!”

Commentary on the horrific situation is best reserved for other, more informed and intelligent sites.  

The government’s response or lack thereof is lacking and illuminates my unease in returning to DC.  I did not vote for The Man.  I’m not snarky or political and I don’t think in these ways and maybe its time for me to leave this town.  Maybe I feel things too much and a simpler kind of life is calling me.  I’ve been through massive earthquakes and volcanoes in Asia and seen quicker response from US agencies. Things are pretty screwed up in Denmark right now ...

Since music is my escape and way of dealing with things, I am quite heartened and impressed by the efforts of New Orlean’s native son Harry Connick – and my love of the region’s musical tradition is not at all defined by his body of work - and did catch last Friday’s infamous televised fundraiser on NBC.  All these celebrities coming out of the blue and in odd pairings – I do hope it will all help with recovery.  (However… opportunistic Dr. Phil please needs to toss off right now). I’ll be the odd blogger out and say that Kanye perhaps spoke in vain and in haste – yeah, I’ll talk to my manager to figure out how to contribute before going shopping. Yikes, riot time! 

More telling, appropriate, eloquent and biting, for me, was New Orlean’s born and bred Aaron Neville’s reading of Randy Newman’s beautiful and haunting Louisiana 1927.  Maybe its because Newman’s music has been a part of my life as far as I can remember; also Louisiana 1927 crept into my head and the chords did not leave since the conundrum began ten days ago. The words are poignant, revealing, applicable and pointed to the current situation:

The river have busted through cleard down to Plaquemines
Six feet of water What has happened down here is the wind have changed
Clouds roll in from the north and it started to rain
Rained real hard and rained for a real long time
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline

The river rose all day
The river rose all night
Some people got lost in the flood
Some people got away alright
in the streets of Evangelne

Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tyrin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away
Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away

President Coolidge came down in a railroad train
With a little fat man with a note-pad in his hand
The President say, "Little fat man isn't it a shame what the river has
done
To this poor crackers land."

There has been much talk about the decline in movie theater attendance this summer – I’m still subscribing to Entertainment Weekly so I know - and I for one certainly haven’t been showing up at my usual rate.  Granted I’ve been a bit down and budget conscious, but few of the major blockbuster and smaller films have been appealing to me lately.  Oh, in a weak moment and as a means of escape from the heat while downtown, I did catch The Wedding Crashers but its cynicism and contrivances – not to mention the annoying Will Ferrell cameo - left me feeling sour. I did see Broken Flowers a couple of weeks ago - maybe out of some kind of lemming Jarmusch conditioning.  I thought it was alright, like contemplating a haiku maybe and actually appreciated it more in retrospect after I spoke to a friend who is a independent film industry insider and player and learned a few trade secrets – did you know Bill Murray’s actual real-life son is in the picture?  Murray, by the way, I feel has milked this phase of his career for a bit too long with this passive persona thing – its losing its charm and getting a little one-trick pony – its times for him to shake things up a bit and really surprise us.  I’d like to see him play someone really aggressive, over-the-top, and all-around evil now!

As a birthday treat, I caught an opening day screening of newcomer Phil Morrison’s Junebug, a film I have actually been looking forward to for a long time.  From all appearances, judging from the size of the crowd at the midday Friday matinee and the critical buzz, looks like Junebug will a sleeper indie hit, at least in DC.  Haha… my folks are going this afternoon!  Good luck getting a seat….its raining and the film is only playing at the Landmark theaters.

I appreciated and enjoyed much of Junebug.  For starters, the ensemble cast is very solid; it was great to see Embeth Davidtz on the screen again, and Allesandro Nivola is always an appealing presence, but Amy Adams really shines as the heart and moral center of the film.  The young actress just about stole the show in her brief but memorable firecracker appearance in Catch Me if You Can and Junebug allows her talents to blossom at full force.  The girl has terrific timing, delivery, not to mention enormous amounts of charm, and has given one of the most vivid and memorable on-screen characterizations seen in a long time! Amy Adams is definitely one to look out for and I strongly suspect she will be this year’s It Girl.  Look out Scarlett, Maggie, Zoey… um, Bill Murray!

The cultural aspects of Junebug hit close to home for me.  My father left the South right after college and though its broad to say he never looked back certainly he raised us in completely different spheres.  In fact, Davidtz’ diplomat’s daughter turned art dealer character made me cringe a bit in self-recognition.  The film brings back some awkward moments for me during our sadly rare family visits with relatives in the South – or rural New England for that matter.  When I’m away from my turf, its tricky for me to walk the line of being perceived and having been built up as the relative who is “exotic” and somewhat “cosmopolitan” and to indulge a sincere and heartfelt curiosity while at the same time wanting to get across that I’m just regular folk and my upbringing is simply a matter of circumstance.

How does one explain being born in Japan, Paris childhood, the monkeys in Malaysia, etc…I’m so absolutely petrified of coming off as a snob that it often hinders me in these situations!

And the fact of the matter is that I am just as fascinated and curious about my relatives’ lives and landscape.  Phil Morrison does a fantastic job of capturing these visits for me.  He hits just the right notes with the dynamics. And it is so refreshing to experience a film that is set in the region that isn’t dominated by the expected twangy soundtrack. (Although Will Oldham makes a cameo!)

When I leave DC and explore more rural, southern areas, I certainly don’t hear slide guitars and banjos. 

Throughout Junebug, Morrison intersperces slow and silent but pregnant shots of the exteriors and interiors of houses, nature, and just everyday life.  The audience is allowed to soak in the images like they are seeing them for the first time and fill in the blanks whether or not there is anything really to read into – that is the essence of travel for me.  And when the music does come to fore, at a church meeting where Nivola’s Chicago-transplant character George reveals and pays loving reverence to his roots with a moving gospel hymn, the audience experiences one of life’s little miracles in profound and moving ways.  I also appreciate the nuanced way the filmmaker shows the role that faith plays in communities, without hitting us over the head with it. Junebug is peppered with the idiosyncratic aspects of organized religion; to jaded filmgoers, Bluestaters, and non-believers, this way of thinking can seem questionable and sometimes jarring but, more often than not, in the case of this film, charming and funny and refreshing. However, Morrison, to his credit, shows audiences the strong but quiet power of faith as source of resolve and comfort in a difficult world.

Ay, the more I think about Junebug, the more I want to say… could go on but will spare you…  so much food for thought but I’m off to Brunch. And then to North Carolina for a spell in a few days and I’m thoroughly looking forward to getting away.

Supernature, the new album by my fave Goldfrapp just dropped in Europe to stellar reviews.

Looks like I’ll be paying import prices once again because according to their US representation: "As part of the global strategy to launch and break the highly anticipated forthcoming album by GOLDFRAPP--the U.K.'s finest electronic pop alchemists--Mute US will now release 'Supernature' in February 2006 to accommodate the overwhelming demands of the international marketplace. The UK and Europe--where demand for GOLDFRAPP is extremely high, both on the promotional and touring side--will release the album on August 22, 2005. European tour dates begin this summer with festival dates and continue into the fall with club dates. The duo--Alison Goldfrapp and Will Gregory--are already in the midst of a very extensive European promotional trip. Because of the demand for GOLDFRAPP in the UK and Europe, Mute U.S. will release the album in the New Year to take advantage of the increased visibility and flexibility in the band's schedule. This scenario allows them to be in America to coincide with Mute's U.S release date in February."

That sucks – I’ll probably be in Micronesia by then hopefully - and also that time of year for marketing is total dead zone. Whatever, Goldfrapp would never really take off in the US anyways, I’m sorry… I’ve seen Goldfrapp live several times, and despite Alison’s oft admitted lack of stage “warmth,” they give great show. I totally dig her glacial vibe maybe because it is mere icing on what is probably the smartest, deepest, and most infectious pop being made right now. Haha, it turns me on! And I love the seriously talented art-school girl (I believe she handles all the amazing art direction on the releases) turned sex icon thing. And, you know, listening to the streams of the new album Supernature, I thought I grown tired of the Kit Kat Club meets Bolan and Garys Glitter and Numan remixed by Moroder feel of their last album, Black Cherry. Which seems to further explored on Supernature – and I actually looked forward to and was curious about a new vision – but it continues to work.

Word is Madonna is coping Goldfrapp’s feel on her new “dance” album due in the autumn! I could think of worse directions…

Anyways, check out the links…

Goldfrapp Gets the Critics All Steamed Up. The Guardian talks to Alison Goldfrapp here. And some more reviews.