The Rock Blogger

A Film Review by Tyson Stewart

Starring Larry David and Evan Rachel Wood. Written and Directed by Woody Allen.

This is Allen’s funniest film in the last ten years. Well-acted, funny, smart, and even romantic, the year’s first worthwhile film combines the talents of two giants of comedy. The humour may be a tad out of date, but, in a strange way, this is also its strength. It has the pace of his earlier films, like Sleeper and Annie Hall, and the zany antics and exaggerated characterizations of Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex…But Were Afraid to Ask or Broadway Danny Rose. In short, it doesn’t have the sluggishness and bad timing of his comedies from The Curse of the Jade Scorpion onwards. A possible reason for this return to form: the script was written in the 1970s and Woody quickly updated it before the potential actors’ strike last year!

David’s Boris is full of opinions and complaints about modern times, and the film’s satirical elements work the best when it lovingly scorns dumb Southerners. In fact, I’d take this kind of satire of American culture over the National Lampoon films any day. David is more of a moaner than a joke-teller (like Allen) but somehow this works. Their worldview is basically the same, and this is maybe why the film plays out so smoothly. Unrelenting pessimism and anger at the world have never been so enjoyable: it’s much harder to find humour in death and the meaninglessness of life than, for example, a hangover. Woody Allen belongs to the 20th century, not the 21st but it is important that his worldview remains forever on offer: it is the sensibility of the Jew as witness to death.

On the aesthetic-technical side, we enjoyed the title song pulled from Animal Crackers, the breezy New Orleans jazz score used throughout, and the signature long-duration shots without too much coverage. I appreciate the way Allen shoots his scenes: one take is the general rule: this allows the actors to really become the character for it doesn’t completely break up the “life” of the character into little ad-like bits.

When Boris addresses the audience, I asked myself if this type of self-reflexivity still works. The opening monologue is probably longer than the one that opens Autumn Sonata: it’s fucking long. Maybe he should have utilized voice-over throughout to frame things. Only a few lines in the direct address moments are interesting, and they go something like this: “Why do you want to know my story? Do we know each other? Do we like each other?” and, near the end, “There were people in the audience at the start. I don’t know how many are left though.” Lines like these remind us of how most other films are so confident in their ability to relate a character’s story even if they use the same old conventional narrative practises to do so. Boris has a point: why do we see films about people we can’t stand made by filmmakers that are complicit in their characters’ development?

Finally, don’t believe those critics who say it’s one of his worst films. And while you’re at it, don’t believe those (like me) who say it’s one of his best. But a good film it is. And I’d take this over any other movie out right now. I know that’s not saying much…Anyway, go see it.

Skagos. Ást . 2009. 5 stars .

From the rainy forests of British Columbia comes Skagos, one of the most sophisticated black metal acts to come from my home and native land. This debut album is cloaked with misty atmosphere and weaves between thundering blast beats and haunting acoustic passages. The lo-fi production, sludgy textures and climatic progressions fits the dense landscape from which this duo emerges, recalling damp pines, rocky cliff faces and mud-caked riverbeds.

While their sound may have much in common with other Cascadian acts like Fauna, Agalloch and Wolves in the Throne Room, Skagos is far more understated, letting its dirges come into the open naturally by way of its airy aesthetic. The album’s intense, emotive appeal doesn’t come from forceful musicianship but rather from its rooted connection to it’s surroundings, a resting sanctuary that lets the land speak. This rootedness comes from the band’s push towards ambiance, a mediated performance that remains enclosed within itself. Skagos wish to be in their vibrations, they are reluctant to stand outside of them as mere producers of sound. Virtuosic mastery is left to the wayside in favor of a deep seated belonging.

Ást is atmospheric black metal at its finest - lush, meditative and trace-inducing. While its vocals and forays into blasting percussion are raw and aggressive, they are not out of place amid the organic shifts in mood and texture. Ást is, in short, a romanticized journey into the wild, complete with raging thunderstorms and radiant bursts of sunshine.

Theodor Kittelsen (1857-1914): Ekko (Echo) 1888. Oil on canvas.

…

Here we have art

As a means of detaching ourselves from insatiable will

To perceive the world free from self-serving concerns

And to come face to face with the echo

Of our vanity

“Ringing Bell” is an obscure anime feature from the late seventies that tells a cautionary fairy tale about the laws of nature and the futility of revenge. What initially seems like a simple children’s story soon takes on darker dimensions. The theme song in particular is surprisingly beautiful.

The additional segments can be found here.

The violent motions of the universe symbolized

Represented in terrifying, psychedelic images, these deities do not stand for evil

But the convulsive turmoil within man, mirroring the throes of the cosmos

Tarkovsky’s Mirror set to Arvo Pärt’s Mirror in the Mirror

Tarkovsky’s images have always had a poetic resonance to them. His most famous sequences are slow, lyrical, symbolic, and can sow melancholia in an instant. The effect of these moments, when coupled with Arvo Pärt, becomes all the more deeper.

Malkuth. Sefirah Gevurah. 2009. 4 stars.

I first heard this album while I was scanning the shelves of Hospital Productions, the venerable black metal record store/label in NYC, and I was immediately struck by its raw and fluid guitar work. As sick and sinister as such an album can be, Sefirah Gevurah features claustrophobic textures that flow over like bloody streams. Along with the impressive riffing comes ravaged vocalizations, rasping desperation over organic percussion. These elements work together to produce feelings of deep resignation, as if afflicted by some unknown pestilence. The performances emit an almost punk-like energy, producing an aesthetic not unlike their local contemporaries Krallice. While it’s song-writing is rather traditional in scope and feeling, this album still feels authentic and consequential. A worthy addition to the USBM scene that stays true (tr00) to the genre’s roots.

The following clips show a series of scientific experiments concerning waves and how matter is influenced by sound. The images are remarkably detailed and psychedelic as oscillations in pitch contort various compounds into increasingly complex patterns. Once you get past the build-up in the first clip, the results are nearly trance inducing.