 …Stalking Santa.
What’s that strange taste in my mouth? By God, I think it’s the taste of a clean palate! After two days of less than stellar Christmas flicks (and, boy, is that an understatement), I’ve stumbled upon a new film which - dare I say it? - has the potential to become a cult classic…and, for once, it’s not because it’s so awful that its sheer badness has earned it kitsch value, a la “Santa Claus Conquers the Martians.” “Stalking Santa” is a mockumentary about Dr. Lloyd Darrow (Simon Taylor), a man who’s on an obsessive quest to confirm or deny the existence of Santa Claus, even if it involves risking a Christmas morning devoid of presents. In a twist which will amuse fans of the classic ’70s series, “In Search Of,” the narration is done by the inestimable William Shatner, who provides details about Darrow’s investigations, as well as other self-proclaimed “Santologists,” with absolutely no hint that it’s all completely fictional. Shatner’s deadly-serious delivery turns the most ridiculous claims into hilarity, such as his discussion of a wax cylinder that captured a voice during a seance which, when played backwards, reveals the words, “Ho, ho, ho, merry Christmas,” or the shot of an ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic which bears a striking resemblance to Kris Kringle himself. (Politically correct or not, I laughed out loud when they showed artwork of a chubby Asian fellow sitting in a lotus position and gave it the identifier of “Buddah Craus.”) Lloyd reportedly has many supporters in his quest, but the truth is, it’s really just him and his college intern, Clarence (Daryn Tufts), who, uh, probably isn’t getting actual college credit for his work. Lloyd’s the president and CEO of an organization known as Tangible Evidence, Real Discoveries…and don’t think he doesn’t get shit for that acronym. He’s a family man, and his kids are a little uncertain about his quest, which you’d expect, since it might mean they don’t get any presents. In particular, his son is sick of his schoolmates’ tauntings, but his lovely and pregnant wife Kylie (Sierra Squires) is behind him, even though there’s no humor in her laugh when she comments that “Santology” isn’t exactly something you get paid for. (The line is followed by a shot of her working in a fast food restaurant as the family breadwinner.) Yes, it’s easy to dismiss the entire concept of the film with a wave of the hand and a quick uttering of “there IS no Santa Claus, the end,” but only a Scrooge would do that. (Right, David?) But, seriously, this is a really funny concept that’s taken to hilarious heights and looks professional enough that, at least in appearance, it could fit onto TLC or The Discovery Channel without a second thought, especially the faux archival footage which suggests a government conspiracy to keep the existence of Santa under wraps so as not to disturb the world economy. Yeah, it descends too far into total ridiculousness on occasion (the idea that the Sphinx originally had antlers like a reindeer fell completely flat), but what keeps it working is the fact that virtually everyone believes Lloyd’s a complete nutjob…because, of course, everyone knows there’s no Santa Claus…right? Right? RIGHT?!?!? (P.S. Santa, I totally know you’re real, so I’m sure you’ve chalked this up to creative license and have in no way removed that copy of the 5-disc “Blade Runner” set from your sleigh.) Filed under: Movies and Movie DVDs and Reviews and Movie Comedies and Documentaries and External Entertainment and External Movies and External Movie DVDs and Doc of the Day Comments: None Digg this! Add to Del.icio.us |
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As a DVD, “Fired!” may be one of the funniest viewing experiences of the year. As an actual movie, however, it isn’t nearly as successful…but, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself a bit.
The story behind “Fired!” began when actress Annabelle Gurwitch was…you guessed it…fired. Fired by Woody Allen, to be precise, when he was in the process of prepping the cast for a play he was putting together and declared that Gurwitch looked “retarded” when she followed a particular stage direction. Having already told tons of her friends and family members that she was going to working with Allen, Gurwitch was decidedly wounded by this act, but instead of wallowing in her depression, she ended up in conversation with various folks who sympathetically shared their own stories of being fired. She soon realized that, as a performer, there was something that could be done with this material, and, voila, the “Fired!” stage show was born, where various performers would get up on stage and read the tales of various people’s experiences. This documentary sprang forth from that show, but, unfortunately, it’s lost something in the translation. This is mostly because the flick trumpets appearances from Tim Allen, David Cross, Andy Dick, Jeff Garlin, Bob Odenkirk, Jeffrey Ross, Harry Shearer, Sarah Silverman, Ben Stein, Fred Willard, Illeana Douglas, and Anne Meara, then ends up feeling like it’s far more about Gurwitch herself. And, of course, it is about Gurwitch. Unfortunately, most of the other contributors just have funnier stories, which means we spent as much time waiting for them to come back as we do appreciating Gurwitch’s own humorous experiences as she struggles to find her way back from the abyss. Also, directors Chris Bradley and Kyle La Brache make the decision to chop up several of the stories being told at a performance of the stage show and come back to them periodically throughout the film for more of each story, which proves reeeeeeeally annoying. So if I’ve got these complaints, why am I calling “Fired!” one of the funniest DVDs of 2007? Well, like I said, the stories from the various contributors are pretty damned funny. Jeff Garlin talks about losing a stand-up gig because he couldn’t compete with the magician who opened for him, Fred Willard sits in a hot tub (with Harry Shearer loitering just outside the waterline) and recalls how he was dropped from a sitcom because he was honest and admitted that he wasn’t the guy who played Herb Tarlek on “WKRP in Cincinnati,” and Illeana Douglas concedes that she was once fired from a job as a coat check girl despite her years of experience in placing coats on hangers and then taking them off again. Andy Dick revisits the world of fast food and finds that he still can’t hack the pace, while Bob Odenkirk provides Gurwitch with a great it’s-not-you-it’s-us speech to show how you can be let down easy in situations like that. Better still, however, are the outtakes from the film. David Cross talks about getting fired from a hardware store, numerous telemarketing jobs, and the Paul Simon Presidential campaign, but the best bit comes when he discusses how he was let go from a mail-room job in a law firm by a guy who was the perfect combination of Mr. Smithers and Mr. Burns. (”He said, ‘Just get out,’ and I said, ‘But I haven’t had a chance to take a dump in your desk yet!’ And, then, that was it; I knew I had no chance of coming back. ‘Oh, c’mon, guy, lighten up! That was a joke! Seriously, can I just work through the summer?’”) Paul Feig, co-creator of “Freaks and Geeks,” tells an awesome story about his experiences as a teenage Ronald McDonald, comedienne Hillary Carlip tells a dy-no-mite story about getting dumped from her gig as Jimmie “J.J.” Walker’s juggling instructor, Dana Gould talks about being let go from the Fred Savage sitcom, “Working,” Harry Shearer explains how he got fired from several radio stations, once for playing a Mel Torme record on an all-rock station (calling the experience “the sincerest form of ‘don’t do that again’”), and…oh, hell, pretty much every single story in the outtake section is hilarious. Great concept, less than perfect execution, but given that your sides will hurt by the time you’re finished with the DVD, I guess the best description of “Fired!” is to call it an eventual success.
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Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an entire episode of “The George Lopez Show,” but after having watched this documentary, I think I’m gonna have to check it out; I don’t have any idea whether it’ll actually be funny or not, but just listening to the guy’s comments in “Brown is the New Green: George Lopez and the American Dream” makes me predisposed to liking him. (Mind you, I was already pretty much in that camp after I heard that he’d gotten into a physical altercation with Carlos Mencia over Mencia purportedly stealing some of his material, but, still, this really sealed the deal for me.)
“Brown is the New Green” focuses on Latinos as they’re perceived on the small screen, and while it probably won’t come as any surprise that they haven’t always had the best representatives on the American airwaves – for awhile, their big three were Jose Jiminez, Speedy Gonzales, and The Frito Bandito - it’s heartening to realize that they’re finally getting their due. Now, if you’re one of those folks who gets pissed off every time they reach a voicemail menu that says, “For English, press 1,” I’m sure you’re already seething mad at the mere thought of what this documentary discusses; in fact, some of you may have stopped reading altogether while you work out a diatribe for the comments section about how giving Latinos airtime to trumpet their culture is akin to setting Old Glory afire and watching her burn. Well, hang onto your hat, muchacho, because you may be surprised to find that a lot of Latinos aren’t so remarkably different from John Smith, Average American. For instance, when George Lopez was casting his TV show, many actors came in to audition and, when doing so, they’d put on a heavy Spanish accent. “George would say, ‘Brother, cool down, you don’t need to do that,’” said producer Bruce Helford, “and they’d say, ‘Oh, cool, thank you,’ and then they’d do it in perfect English, with no accent at all!” Lopez himself reveals that, while building the sets for his series, the network complained that the kitchen didn’t look like a Mexican kitchen. “They said, ‘There’s nothing here that indicates that a Mexican family lives here. There’s not a tortilla maker.’ I said, ‘My tortilla maker was my grandmother!’” For the most part, the so-called “Latino audience” is something which, more often than not, the entertainment industry views as an advertising demographic rather than a group of individuals who are looking for their own brand of entertainment. There’s an ongoing battle between trying to portray real Latino life versus what producers think middle America can handle; one guy mentions how, from his experience, the average Latino family doesn’t always have a father present, but TV can’t hang with the idea of a fatherless family scenario, while Lopez speaks about how absolutely no-one in his family was supportive of his attempts to build an American TV career. The most interesting interview, at least for me, wasn’t with Lopez but, rather, with Bill Dana, the comedian who portrayed Jose Jimenez. He was hugely popular for many years, but he wasn’t actually Latino, and as the tide of public opinion turned, the popularity waned dramatically…like, to the point where, when he announced that he was retiring the character, he was stunned at the resulting cheers. “Brown is the New Green” is another fine PBS production, providing an interesting, educational, and - ultimately - depressing look at how little love the Latino community gets on television. Sure, it’s nice that “Ugly Betty” is a success, but you can’t really call that a step forward when, in virtually the same breath, ABC canceled “The George Lopez Show” in favor of “Cavemen.” Still, when the doc ends with the revelation that Lopez earned $5 million from the show’s final season, $15 million from the series’ syndication deal, and $9 million from his stand-up shows that year, at least you can’t say that his chapter of the story hasn’t had a happy ending.
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Upfront admission: I’ve never seen the first “Married in America” film. Good thing, then, that director Michael Apted has taken it into account that some of those who might happen upon this sequel to his 2002 documentary might need to play a bit of catch-up.
In 2001, Apted - the British director who made a name for himself as a documentarian with the series of “Up” films - ventured forth to America, selected ten couples who were on the cusp of marriage and filmed the days leading up to their nuptials as well as the ceremonies themselves, asking them questions about their relationships, their feelings about marriage, and what they anticipate the future will hold for them. In 2006, he returned to the couples to see how things had been going since the last time he’d come ’round…and, no surprise here, things are decidedly different in most cases. When selecting couples, Apted pointedly tried to highlight as many different social, economic, and cultural angles as possible, so as to cover the gamut of marital stories, and he certainly succeeded on that front; there’s a lesbian couple, a multiracial couple (the husband is African-American, the wife is white), a multicultural couple (the wife is Filipino, the husband is Jewish), a pair who’d each already been married several times before, a couple of yuppies, a couple from Alabama where the husband’s a Marine and the wife’s a Southern belle, a duo from NYC who were married immediately prior to 9/11, and so forth and so on. As a result, each story is different from the one which precedes it…and, yet, ultimately, it’s all about marriage, so you can’t help but find similarities as well. It’s a bit sad to see that Betty and Reggie are still living with Betty’s mom, with the house they’d planned to renovate for themselves still sitting a shambles, but they seem happy, so, hey, more power to them. Less happy with each other, however, are Carol & Chuck and Nadine & Frank; the latter are trying to keep it together for the sake of family, but the former only barely keep any ties with each other these days. There’s no question that, whether you’ve seen the first film or not, “Married in America 2″ is often an interesting viewing experience. Personally, however, I found myself occasionally indifferent to the goings-on…and, ultimately, I think it’s for the same reason that I got so bored with “Tell Me You Love Me” even though it was full of realistic-looking sex: I’m married. I am one of these people; I don’t need to watch their stories on television when I’m already living their lives. Yes, it’s interesting to see where they are five years after their marriage, but I watch TV and movies for escapism, and seeing how five years of marriage has brought a couple a house, a child, and a fair amount of bills is, to say the least, not much of an escape at all. Filed under: Movies and Movie DVDs and Reviews and Documentaries and External Entertainment and External Movies and External Movie DVDs and Doc of the Day Comments: None Digg this! Add to Del.icio.us |
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Given that Oliver Stone’s “JFK” is one of my all-time favorite movies, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I’d enjoy a good conspiracy-theory documentary, but “911 Mysteries - Part 1: Demolitions” is more intriguing than the average…possibly because its subject is one that affected just about everyone who lived through it. I’m not trying to pretend that li’l ol’ me, sitting in Norfolk, VA, was in any way as traumatized by the experiences on September 11, 2001, as the people in New York City - that’d be ludicrous - but, man, I’ll never forget how I felt as I stood in the break room at Harris Publishing and watched the towers fall live on television. I’m not even going to begin to try to put into the words the sensation that went through me as I witnessed something so unexpected and of such tremendous magnitude unfolding before my eyes, but it was something I hope never to experience again. As it is, I’m already dreaded the day when my daughter, who’s 2 years old as of this writing, asks me about that day, because I have absolutely no fucking idea what I’m going to say.
With the first part of the “911 Mysteries” series (the additional two parts remain unproduced at present, as the filmmakers await the necessary funding to move forward), we’re presented with some very interesting premises; they may or may not be true, but for the open-minded viewer, they result in enough eyebrow raising to make you consider the possibility of their accuracy. The main question posited during the film’s 90 minutes is this: how do you get a 10-second, 110-story pancake collapse of a major structure? The answer is…no-one has an answer. Or if they do, they’re not talking. But plenty of civilian construction folk have had the question posed to them, and most seem to mystified as to how it happened. The film features footage of a gentleman who lost his life in the collapse of the Towers, filmed several months prior to 9/11, indicating that the buildings were structurally designed to withstand a hit from a 747 - the largest aircraft at the time the building were erected - without incident. So why did they collapse so rapidly after such a strike? And why weren’t the core structures of the buildings still intact even as the floors fell around them? Is it possible that there were additional goings-on within the Towers which resulted in their destruction…? The best I’m going to say is “maybe,” but, like I said, this movie will definitely get you thinking. There are interviews with plenty of construction professionals who find the building’s state of collapse to be inexplicable based on the facts as presented by the mainstream media; the discussions about who stood to gain from the loss of files, facts, and figures which were housed within the Towers might feel a bit too paranoid, but when you hear witnesses describing the mysterious construction on the 34th floor a month or two before the attacks, which was significant enough that the below floors could feel the shaking from the work being done (yet when one guy sneaked up to see what they were working on, he found the floor to be completely empty), you do start wondering, “What was going on up there?” Is it possible that terrorists planned far enough in advance to weaken the structure of the building by way of a bomb within the heart of the building itself? It’s thought-provoking stuff. If you’re a steadfast conservative Republican, you’re probably already wagging your finger and declaring it to be anti-American and unpatriotic, but if you’re like me and always wonder if the news you’re getting is really the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, you owe it to yourself to at least give “911 Mysteries - Part 1: Demolitions” a look…whether you believe it or not. Oh, and in closing, I really just have to ask this aloud: whose idea was it to use a blurb from Rosie O’Donnell as the front-cover quote? “Watch and decide for yourself,” she says. For one, it’s not a very good quote, and for another, what, is she really the best spokesperson they could get? I mean, I’m not familiar with David Ray Griffin, the author quoted on the back cover, but at least his statement - “Excellent. The best of the 9/11 movies.” - is an actual compliment. Rosie’s comment is just…nothing. Filed under: Movies and Movie DVDs and Reviews and Documentaries and External Entertainment and External Movies and External Movie DVDs and Doc of the Day Comments: 1 Comment Digg this! Add to Del.icio.us |
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It might’ve been fifty years since nine African-American teenagers broke the color barrier and, with the assistance of the National Guard, integrated the public schools in Little Rock, Arkansas, but racism still runs rampant in these United States…and I’m just as guilty as anyone. I’d like to tell you I’m not - in fact, I’d prefer to tell you I’m not - but here’s why I’d be lying if I claimed otherwise: while watching “Little Rock Central: 50 Years Later,” the HBO special which revisits Little Rock Central High School to see how much has changed (and how much has stayed the same) since 1957, there was a moment when several teenage African-American girls are dancing around the room to a song on the radio…and when I realized that the song was “Stacy’s Mom,” by Fountains of Wayne, my first thought was, “Wow, really?” I’d love to tell you it was simply the exclamation of a power-pop fan being pleased to hear a song by one of his favorite artists in such context, but, no, that was secondary at best. The harsh truth of the matter is that I reacted that way because it just seemed incongruous to see African-American teenagers dancing to Fountains of Wayne…and, really, it shouldn’t be that way.
But it is. And while watching “Little Rock Central: 50 Years Later,” you’re constantly reminded how little has changed in the half-century since the groundbreaking occurrence at that high school. You see how the whites and the black have, in all this time, done almost no integrating; sure, they’re sharing the same classrooms, but there’s still a major disconnect between the them. A picture is painted of how there are almost no African-Americans in the accelerated classes, and how the socio-economic climate in Little Rock is such that the two races tend rarely to interact outside of the schools, which leads to a lack of interaction within the schools as well. And the teachers, for all their attempts to get the students to do their best, are finding that quite a few of them simply don’t care, don’t want to listen, and don’t have much in the way of a positive parental influence to inspire them at home. One of the African-American students suggests that the education level for blacks was higher before desegregation because, back then, they had something to prove; now, they don’t, and as a result, they’re not trying as hard. You want to argue with him, but, frighteningly, you can see what he’s talking about, especially when you hear one of the seniors admit that his father hasn’t looked at his report card since 9th grade. Filmmakers Brent and Craig Renaud, themselves Little Rock natives, do an admirable job at showing as many different sides of the situation as possible. We see the teachers trying their best to teach these students, and we do see them succeeding; we also see that, although they’re in the minority, there are indeed African-American students at Little Rock Central who are intellectual and thriving. But in the end, when we see Minnijean Brown, one of the original “Little Rock 9,” speaking before one of the classes at the school and pointing out that, 50 years later, the whites are still on one side of the class and the blacks are on the other, we realize how far we’ve yet to go. Alas, there’s no trailer for this doc, so I instead present you with a segment from the documentary, “Eyes on the Prize,” which provides you with an idea as to what happened 50 years ago…and will remind you - as it reminded me - that 50 years seems like a lifetime ago. Filed under: Movies and TV and Movie DVDs and Reviews and Documentaries and External Entertainment and External Movies and External TV and External Movie DVDs and Doc of the Day Comments: None Digg this! Add to Del.icio.us |
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“Sun Dogs” is the story of the Jamaican dog sled team. No, not the Jamaican bobsled team. The Jamaican dog sled team. I can understand how you’d think I’d just written down the wrong phrase, given how much more famous the former team is; in fact, it’s that very success which inspired Danny Melville to try to kickstart the idea of giving Jamaica a second unlikely sport to call their own.
Given that it comes from Palm Productions, it’s no wonder that “Sun Dogs” is a well-made documentary which extends far beyond the scope that one might reasonably expect from its simplistic cover art. Yes, it’s the true story of the Jamaican Dogsled Team, just as advertised, but this is as much of a tale of the country of Jamaica, how the beauty of its landscape belies the poverty of its people, and why something as simple and strange as a tropical island becoming famous for being good as a sport that’s generally done on snowy terrain can raise the spirits of so many people. It’s a whirlwind trip ’round the world, this doc, spending time not only in Jamaica but also in Minnesota and Edinburgh, Scotland (you can’t exactly do proper sled training in a hot and sunny climate, now, can you?), but it’s also an emotional voyage as well, particularly when Newton - one of the human representatives of the team - is abruptly but understandably removed from working with the dogs. And speaking of the dogs, their story proves as interesting as the humans, coming as they do from the Jamaican SPCA. Most of them adapt well to the sport, but it takes a fair amount of training; still, it’s never a hardship to watch them, because, c’mon, doggies are cute! Ahem. Anyway, this is a great documentary that provides a real look at the creation of the team rather than an airbrushed Hollywood recreation, but it’s still a heartwarming story…one with a bouncy reggae soundtrack which propels it at all times. If there’s any complaint, it’s that the film’s description would lead you to believe that Jimmy Buffett, who offers financial support to the team, is a major player in the story; although it refers to “the crew, spearheaded by pop superstar Jimmy Buffett,” the man from Margaritaville is in it for maybe five minutes, tops. Of course, if you’re not a Parrothead, this revelation may only serve to make you want to see “Sun Dogs” more than you already did before.
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I’ve never been a real hardcore video game addict…well, not for any extended period of time, anyway. I had my fair share of obsessions once in awhile – first the arcade, then my trusty Intellivision, followed by brief stints with Nintendo and Xbox – but none of those lasted more than a few months before they were set aside. Kids today, though, they’re downright obsessed with the gaming, so when I first heard about the Starz documentary, “Hollywood Goes Gaming,” I thought, “Oh, man, this is totally not gonna hold my interest.”
I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was way better than I ever expected, offering a nicely done retrospective of the history of video games becoming movies and vice versa. For instance, Stephen Linsberg, writer / director of “Tron,” bemoans the fact that his film didn’t even receive an Academy Award for Best Special Effects, then admits that, at the time, the industry felt that he’d “cheated” by using computers for his effects. It’s amusing that the doc launches from its discussion of “Tron” and how Mattel licensed the film for a video game, then fast-forwards to the present and observes how it’s a given that a film will have a video-game tie-in nowadays, using “Surf’s Up” as an example. Why’s that amusing? Both films start Jeff Bridges! Would you believe there was once a licensing battle for a “Kramer vs. Kramer” video game? True. Everybody wanted a piece of the video game action, but the most enjoyable discussion here comes via archival interview footage with Spielberg about the legendarily bad “E.T.” video game for Atari, then cuts to current interview with a fellow who used to work for Atari, who says that Spielberg saw the test version of the game and said, “Gee, couldn’t you do something more like ‘Pac-Man’?” “And I thought, well, gee, couldn’t you do something more like ‘The Day the Earth Stood Still’”? All snark aside, the game was such a colossal failure that Atari ended up with so many leftover copies that they buried a ton of them in a Mexican landfill. (I always thought that was an apocryphal story, but if so, Atari’s amused enough by it to claim it’s true.) There’s also a nice bit about “Dragon’s Lair,” including an interview with creator Don Bluth (alas, the follow-up game, “Space Ace,” gets no love), along with an almost apologetic sequence about the “Super Mario Brothers.” From there, it’s onto the triple threat of the “Double Dragon,” “Street Fighter,” and “Mortal Kombat” flicks. Inevitably, there’s conversation with Uwe Boll and Paul WS Anderson, with the latter proving the most entertaining. (I had no idea that, in answer to his critics, he offered to meet them in a boxing ring and fight them!) Clive Barker chimes in on his experiences in the industry, including his work on his own game, “Jericho,” and, of course, Shia LaBeouf gets interviewed because he’s the Michael Caine of his era, showing up in just about everything, though he looks like he was caught in the middle of a press tour, however, rather than having sat down for his interview like everyone else. Kudos to Starz for these documentaries of theirs. They’re really doing a nice job of providing historical context rather than just having a bunch of talking heads blather on; in this case, we’re treated to interviews with the founders of Atari and Electronic Arts, the guys who were on the front lines of all these goings-on. Makes for a lot more interesting perspective than, say, a movie critic talking about how bad “Double Dragon” was. Filed under: Movies and TV and Movie DVDs and Actors and Actresses and Reviews and Movie Dramas and Horror Movies and Action Movies and Documentaries and External Entertainment and External Movies and External TV and External Movie DVDs and Doc of the Day Comments: None Digg this! Add to Del.icio.us |
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Wait, John Lennon was political? Wow, how did I miss out on this…?
It isn’t as though we haven’t gotten enough documentaries which have tackled the life and times of John Lennon over the years - I’m thinking first and foremost of “Imagine: John Lennon,” but it’s not like he hasn’t popped up elsewhere - but, to be fair, this is the first time there’s been an attempt to focus specifically on his life and times as a political activist. There’s a quote on the back of the DVD box from Yoko Ono where she says, “Of all the documentaries that have been made about John, this is the one he would have loved.” Well, she’d probably know better than anyone…and, yeah, she’s probably right. He would have loved the idea that his attempts to bring peace to the world were, if not 100% successful, at least still being spoken of this far into the future. When viewed through the eyes of a world that’s survived such traumatic events as the L.A. riots and 9/11, however, you find yourself staring blankly at the screen on occasion, wondering exactly how naive Lennon really was to think that he could change the world with his methods. Sure, they’re quaint and well-intentioned. Having a bed-in for peace makes a statement that he’s anti-war without risking confrontation with the authorities. Suggesting that there would be no issue with race if everyone was inside a bag and you couldn’t see their skin…well, that’s a little more off the wall, sure, but there’s a valid point somewhere within the eccentricity. Ultimately, though, the greatest achievement of John Lennon was to show that a pop star could have a social conscience, and if having that conscience required losing fans, then so be it.
As to “The U.S. vs. John Lennon,” what makes it so fascinating is the placement of Lennon’s actions within their proper historical context. What may be viewed as naive now was still quite sufficient to draw the attention of the Nixon White House and result in Lennon being put under FBI surveillance. You can kind of see why, too; he was, after all, hanging out with noted radicals such as John Sinclair, Bobby Seale, and the like. Really, though, it was less because of the company he was keeping and more because he was, despite his preference to keep himself as far away from that niche as possible, a Beatle…and when you’re a Beatle, the kids listen to you. Sure, they might not agree with everything you have to say, but you’ve still got their ear, and that’s why Nixon felt Lennon was so dangerous and, indeed, a legitimate threat to his Presidential campaign. In the end, Nixon still won another term, but the effects of Lennon’s political leanings made enough of an impact on society that the film manages to score talking-head commentary from Walter Cronkite, Mario Cuomo, Gore Vidal, and many others. Yoko and John might prefer “The U.S. vs. John Lennon” to the other Lennon docs, but, on the whole, it’s not one you’d want to start your new Beatle fans with. It is, however, key to understanding why a man would have the music world at his feet yet essentially throw it away to follow his politics, instead; more importantly, it shows how far ahead of his time John Lennon really was.
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Given that today’s Veteran’s Day, it seemed only appropriate to select a documentary which involved the members of our fighting forces. Of course, it also helped that, mere days before, I’d serendipitously received such a selection: “The Ritchie Boys,” directed by Christian Bauer.
Ever since Tom Brokaw put together his tales of “The Greatest Generation,” documentaries interviewing those who fought their way through World War II and lived to tell their stories have been very much on my radar, so I was immediately predisposed to be interested in “The Ritchie Boys” based on its WWII-era cover photo alone. As I read the description on the back of the DVD box, however, I became legitimately fascinated by this story of German Jewish individuals who’d been run out of their homeland, come to the States, and been welcomed into the U.S. Army to assist in the war effort and fight against those who forced them to flee Germany in the first place. This would’ve been an interesting story even if it had been told strictly via voiceover narration, but several members of the Ritchie Boys – so named because of their training in Camp Ritchie, Maryland – are still alive, well, and more than ready to talk about their experiences. Most had only been in the States for a very short time before finding themselves members of the US Army, but almost all were enthusiastic at the prospect of kicking as much Nazi ass as possible. It’s not entirely surprising, I don’t suppose, that the majority of these gentlemen are jovial and in good spirits when speaking of their pasts, probably because there were some good times; certainly, it’s evident that there was tremendous camaraderie amongst them. We see this in particular with the duo of Guy Stern and Fred Howard, who left the war as friends and are the only two who are paired together during the course of the film; we see them as they reunite and ride together to tour their old barracks, and the easy back-and-forth between them will illicit a smile in most. For instance, on the drive to the barracks, Guy muses that you can see that the Blue Ridge Mountains will be appearing on the horizon soon, which inspires Fred to burst into laughter and reply, “You are so full of shit!” They trade memories back and forth throughout the film, including how they discovered that German soldiers were deathly afraid of being captured by the Russians, so they managed to get their hands on a Russian soldier’s uniform and would interrogate prisons as if they were Russians. (They even found a portrait of Josef Stalin, to which they added a facsimile of his signature, adding, “With love.”) Be sure, however, to stay tuned for the closing credits, over which they discuss a tale they invented about how they’d captured Adolf Hitler’s latrine officer. Though we’re treated to several amusing stories from the various surviving Ritchie Boys, the sad reality of war is never far away. We hear how one of the members of the regiment was shot dead by a sentry after answering the password correctly but doing so in his German accent; also, in a moment of governmental stupidity, it’s revealed that the U.S. Army’s dog tags listed the soldiers’ religious persuasion, which proves a bit dodgy if you’re a former German turned American soldier who’s of the Jewish persuasion. “The Ritchie Boys” is a side of the war that’s never really been explored before. Even if you’ve seen “The War” and think, okay, Ken Burns has said all that needs to be said, you’d still be wise to check out this flick before making a final decision on the matter.
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You might think it’s a little ironic that I should spend the previous Doc of the Day entry talking about how my non-gayness leaves me personally indifferent to Canada’s tolerance of homosexuality, only to follow up with a rave for director Malcolm Ingram’s “Small Town Gay Bar,” a documentary which explores the difficulties that the homosexual community in small-town Mississippi have in finding a place to hang out and be themselves. It’s doubly unlikely when you factor in that the DVD opens with a commercial for “Dante’s Cove,” about which I once wrote that it “actually looked mildly interesting, given its reference to “sexy and supernatural residents,” but even that description couldn’t keep me watching after one male lead mounted another from behind in the kitchen.” So can we solely chalk my appreciation of the film up to the fact that it’s been executive-produced by my brother from another mother, Mr. Kevin Smith? Absolutely not. The credit goes totally to Ingram on this project…well, okay, and probably to editors Graeme Ball and Scott Mosier, too. But as a gay man himself, it’s a reasonable assumption that the heart of the film belongs to Ingram.
And there’s a lot of heart in “Small Town Gay Bar.” Although the film begins by playing up the wild and crazy fun which one generally associates with gay bars (techno music, drag shows, etcetera), the primary focus is to show how such establishments are downright crucial to the mental health of the small town gay community, as they provide gays with a rare opportunity to let their hair down and be themselves, rather than “have to deal with terrified heterosexuals.” It’s not a sensationalized look at the gay lifestyle; if anything, Ingram goes out of his way to spotlight the gay relationships…rather than, say, what goes on under the sheets. At right around the 20-minute mark, however, the cheery, upbeat tone of the documentary grows dark and harsh, as the subject of Scotty Weaver is broached. Weaver, an 18-year-old gay boy who lived in Bay Minette, Mississippi, was tied to a chair in his trailer, where, over the course of several hours, was beaten, strangled, stabbed, mutilated, and partially decapitated, with his body dumped in the woods and set on fire. If the preceding several minutes of “Small Town Gay Bar” haven’t served to remind you that gay people are still just people, then it’s hard to imagine anyone getting past the description of this event without saying, “Geez, even if you’re not a fan of homosexuality, no-one deserves that kind of treatment.” And, yet, some would argue that they do…like, say, Rev. Fred Phelps, who describes his website GodHatesFags.com as “a serious, profound theological statement.” Yes, seriously. Though I wish I was kidding. Once we leave Rev. Phelps’ rantings behind, we also learn a bit about the American Family Association, who aren’t quite as harsh, but they still perform disconcerting maneuvers like writing down the license plate numbers of every car in the parking lot of one of the bars, then reading the list over the radio the next morning. Fortunately, however, things soon return to a more thoughtful place; we get a history of the gay bar in Mississippi, find out about a place called the Crossroads Estates (and get a laugh at the fact that the former owner looks vaguely like Eric Clapton), and then grow sentimental as both Crossroads and the other key bar in the film, Rumors, each get new owners. “Small Town Gay Bar” is a thoughtful look at the lifestyle of the gay community beyond the big cities, and although it only focuses on a couple of locations, it still serves as a reminder that it’s like this all over the country, not just in Mississippi. It’s sad that there are so many individuals out there who can’t just let gay folks live their own lives, especially since this film only serves to emphasize the fact that, all things being equal, they’d just as soon hang out with each other, anyway! (And given such fine upstanding heterosexuals as Rev. Fred Phelps, who can blame them?) In closing, here’s Kevin Smith’s intro to the film. That’s Malcolm Ingram standing beside him. These two are great buds, but please note Ingram’s uncomfortable expression throughout most of this; it’s, like, “Okay, Kevin, I’ve made this really nice, thoughtful film, so how ’bout you tone down the jism talk, huh?”
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Despite all the punchlines which have starred our great white neighbor to the north, the moment things start to get rough in these United States, the first reaction of most Americans tends to be, “That’s it, I’m moving to Canada.” And, believe me, I’m definitely including yours truly in that number. If an opportunity presented itself, I’d totally move to Canada…although I’d probably avoid attempting a transplant to Saskatchewan. (Those people are pretty testy.*) With this being the case, I was highly surprised to find myself so disappointed in Albert Nerenberg’s documentary, “Escape to Canada.”
Maybe it’s my own fault. Maybe it’s because I’ve always thought that escaping to Canada sounded like a good idea that I was disappointed. But I walked gleefully into the proceedings, figuring I’d get a good schooling on the reasons why I was right, and all I got in return was a lengthy conversation on how awesome it is that Canada has legalized pot and gay marriage. And while I’m sure it’s great news for a certain demographic, I’m not gay, and the closest I’ve ever gotten to smoking pot is the secondhand smoke I inhaled when I went to see AC/DC on their “Fly on the Wall” tour. In other words, neither of those are really great selling points for me…which was unfortunate, since, well, that’s pretty much the only two things that “Escape to Canada” takes the time to discuss. I’m not saying the film isn’t interesting on a certain level; even though these aren’t matters that affect me on a personal level, there’s something to be said for a country that’s progressive enough to embrace them to the point of making them legal. But, honestly, at the end of the viewing, all I could think was that it’s gonna take more than the ringing endorsement of Mr. Tommy Chong to make me seriously consider Canadian citizenship. So, yeah, I realize this is a pretty short review, but, unfortunately, I just don’t have much else to offer. On the whole, I walked in looking for info on topics like Canada’s lower crime rate, their medical plan, and other stuff, but it’s like Nerenberg went in with his blinders on. If he’s happy with this streamlined view of what’s great about the Great White North, more power to him. But, personally, I was just disappointed. * This is a joke, intended for a friend of mine who lives in Regina, Saskatchewan. If you are not this person, please don’t get testy…mostly because you’ll only be perpetuating a stereotype. Post-script: I dropped an E-mail to the aforementioned friend in Regina, telling him of this documentary and my disappointment with its streamlined approach, and this was his response: “My guess is that, perhaps, it’s more to highlight that, compared to the US, Canada has greater freedoms, that where the US is compromising liberties, Canada is expanding them. There are a number of ways one could argue that Canada is freer, the political system is (somewhat) less corrupt, and the social fabric less tattered, but the dope and same-sex marriage stuff are more recent points of contention, and the two countries are heading in opposite directions. Religion also doesn’t have much hold of our political system (or society, really). When the Liberals passed same-sex legislation, the prime minister, Paul Martin, openly said that as a Catholic he’s opposed to it, but that he wasn’t elected to be a Catholic prime minister, only prime minister for all Canadians.” Okay, fair enough, and I’ll buy that. But I was still disappointed, anyway. Filed under: Movies and Movie DVDs and Trailers and Reviews and Documentaries and External Entertainment and External Movies and External Movie DVDs and Doc of the Day Comments: None Digg this! Add to Del.icio.us |
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To borrow a line from Lloyd Cole, “Oh, my sentimental fool, have I got a tale for you…”
Say hello to the Drama Program of Long Island’s ANCHOR Organization…and before you ask, it stands for Answering the Needs of Citizens with Handicaps through Organized Recreation. The title’s a bit of a gimme, but in “Yellow Brick Road,” ANCHOR’s group of dramatists have embarked upon a four-month adventure which, at the end of their path, will hopefully find them putting on a rather fine production of “The Wizard of Oz.” Yes, each of the participants is handicapped in some fashion, but it hasn’t dampened their enthusiasm one bit. In fact, if anything, it serves to make them some of the least-jaded actors you’ve ever come across. Let’s stop for a minute and consider what I’ve just written. Now, if you like documentaries at all, then based on this description, there are really only about three reactions you can have: 1. Oh, wow, that sounds like such a sweet story! Okay, if your reaction is closest to #3, then you’re a jackass and probably shouldn’t be watching this film. If your reaction is closest to #2, well, okay, I understand where you’re coming from, and, yes, it is sometimes can be little difficult to be around handicapped people when you’re not used to being around them, but we’re not tyrants here at Premium Hollywood. I mean, no-one’s forcing you to watch “Yellow Brick Road.” But for the record, let me assure those of you whose reaction echoed #1 that you’re right, this is a sweet story…and if there’s any question as to whether or not you’re going to find yourself caught up in it, it’s answered within the first few minutes, when the girl who gets the role of Miss Gulch literally bursts into tears of joy at the news of her casting, unable to even catch her breath. (”I have to call my mom,” she manages to get out between her sobs, clambering over her fellow cast members as she tries to leaves the aisle and make a mad dash to a pay phone.) Oh, yeah. This is one mother of an uplifting flick. Directors Keith Rondinelli and Matthew Makar offer a close look at several of the cast members and how they live decidedly full lives even with their handicaps. They also aren’t afraid to acknowledge the occasional frustration suffered by the director of the production, who - let’s face it - has a bit of a challenge on her hands with her thespians. Still, after much work, many practices, and occasional moments of panic (will the Scarecrow need to be replaced?), these individuals pull off a highly successful “Wizard of Oz,” providing an ending with enough heart to rival that of the Tin Man.
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It’s taken a long, long time for me to finally realize that I enjoy a good Western, and, frankly, I blame “Star Wars.” When I was a kid, my world was one of people flying around the galaxy in starships and getting involved in laser battles…and when you’re a kid, you just can’t wrap your head around what the hell your dad’s talking about when he tries to explain how what you’re watching is just a hi-tech version of the cowboys he watched when he was a kid. Yeah, okay, now I get it: my starships were his horses, my laser blasters were his six-shooters, and so on. But back then, I was just, like, “Okay, whatever, dad: that stuff is in black and white, and that means it’s old.” And to his credit, he was never one of those dads who’d try to assure me that if I’d really enjoy Westerns if I’d just sit down and give them a try…which is a little ironic, given that that’s pretty much my stock maneuver when I’m trying to sway people to check out unheralded stuff. But, y’know, if he’d force-fed me the stuff, I would’ve probably walked away never wanting to see another Western ever again, whereas having found them of my own accord at a time when I was actually able to appreciate them, I’m now finding that I really dig them. Ironically, though, I think I probably would’ve found myself delving into Westerns several years earlier if I’d paid more attention to the stuff my uncle Charlie – my mom’s brother – was talking up when I was a kid. While Charlie and my dad were both of the same generation, with Charlie actually being a few years older, I distinctly remember that my uncle was a big fan of Clint Eastwood’s Westerns as well. These were the so-called “Spaghetti Westerns,” and they sounded vaguely intriguing even back in my youth… possibly just because I always thought my uncle Charlie was really cool, but, even so, the memory has stuck with me for all these years. My dad, however, had always been a card-carrying member of the John Wayne / Gene Autry style of Western, and in the world of Westerns, that’s the equivalent of…well, I’m not sure in this case who would be Elvis and who would be The Beatles, but whatever the case, my dad’s allegiance to the kinder, gentler, and less graphic Western was clear. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with this, especially since I’ve yet to see a John Wayne / John Ford collaboration that I didn’t enjoy, but after watching “The Spaghetti West,” an IFC original documentary on the genre, I can only say this: Man, I have been missing out!
For years, I’d always thought that the term “Spaghetti Western” was intended as a disparaging term, to imply that the films that fell under this banner were nothing more than sub-par foreign rip-offs of the far superior American films which had inspired them. (U.S.A.! U.S.A.!) Gradually, though, I began to learn a little bit more about the genre, saw that these films were starring highly-respected actors like Eastwood, Henry Fonda, Charles Bronson, and Jack Palance, and began to realize that maybe I hadn’t been reading this thing quite right. If you enjoy Westerns but you’ve also spent time in this confused camp (and please say if you have, because I don’t want to believe I’m the only one who thought this), then “The Spaghetti West” will serve as a grand illumination for you. In addition to exploring the work of the legendary Sergio Leone, who all but invented the genre with “A Fistful of Dollars” (and its subsequent sequels, “For A Few Dollars More” and “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly”), the documentary explores other key figures in the movement, including Sergio Corbucci and Sergio Sollima. That’s right: they’re the Three Sergios, and if you included nothing but their films, you’d still have a pretty damned effective look at the best of the Spaghetti Westerns. Corbucci proved to be a tremendous influence on Quentin Tarantino, if only for a particularly notorious scene in Corbucci’s “Django,” where this poor bastard gets his ear cut off. (When Tarantino saw the film for the first time, I wonder if his fellow theatergoers were distracted by the lightbulb that must’ve immediately appeared above his head.) We get a good exploration of the three ages of the Spaghetti Western: the straight films which originated the genre, the political-themed versions which came about as things began to get too predictable (a.k.a. the Zapata Westerns), and the comedy or parody takes on the genre – like, say, the “Trinity,” starring Terrence Hill – which prove so inevitable when a genre becomes embraced by the mainstream. Leone, it should be noted, hated the third age (he didn’t think they were funny), but he still ended up providing a post-script to the movement as a whole with “My Name Is Nobody,” which teamed Hill with Henry Fonda and served the final Western of Fonda’s career. Even those who are well versed in the world of Spaghetti Westerns will love this documentary, which interviews many of the major players, all the way up to Eastwood himself, including several of the directors and actors, as well as Leone’s go-to guy for music, Ennio Morricone. Don’t be surprised if you walk away from this thing with a checklist of new movies for your Netflix queue. Unfortunately, there’s no trailer for “The Spaghetti West” available, so, in lieu of that, I present the trailer for the film that left me the most curious: Sergio Corbucci’s “Django.” Damn, screw renting; I may just have to buy this thing outright… Post-Script: I called my dad and told him about having just finished watching this documentary, and his exact quote - following a laugh - was, “Well, I don’t think you’ve just gotten finished watching anything that I care much about!” I mentioned to him how I’d remembered how Charlie had been a fan of some of the Spaghetti Westerns, and he backed me up on that, but then he admitted that half the reason that he’d never liked Spaghetti Westerns himself lay in his rail fandom. (Translated, that means he’s a retired railroad man who’s loved trains all his life.) “I’d see the trains in those movies that were so clearly Italian, with their big ol’ cowcatchers, but they’d've painted ‘Santa Fe’ on them or whatever, and I’d just be, like, ‘Give me a break.’” He added, though, that the dubbing from Italian into English always drove him up the wall, too. “I don’t think I ever saw one where they didn’t seem to be at least a syllable behind!” I hereby declare these both to be highly valid reasons. Filed under: TV and Movie DVDs and Actors and Reviews and Documentaries and External Entertainment and External Movies and External TV and External Movie DVDs and Doc of the Day Comments: None Digg this! Add to Del.icio.us |
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I didn’t have to know anything about this movie to give it a chance; all I needed to do was see the words “narrated by John Waters” emblazoned on the front. I’m not really a huge fan of Waters’ films - although I don’t by any means hate them - but I’ve always thought the guy came off as a real hoot when doing interviews, and his appearances on episodes of “The Simpsons” and “My Name Is Earl” have done nothing but cement that impression. (One of these days, I really should check out the Court TV series, “‘Til Death Do Us Part,” if only because he plays a character called the Groom Reaper.) Waters doesn’t have a hand in “Plagues and Pleasures on the Salton Sea” beyond offering the narration, but you can see what attracted him to contribute to the film; there are some definite eccentrics living ’round California’s Salton Sea, and lWaters is always the first to appreciate a good kook.
You may well be familiar with the name “Salton Sea” from the Val Kilmer film, but this is a completely different entity…to say the least. The Salton Sea is an inland salt lake in Southern California, an area which more or less arose as a result of an ecological disaster in the early years of the 20th century, then evolved into a tourist attractions in the 1920s; now, however, it’s falling apart at the seams, having suffered a steady decline over the last several years due to such fun events as massive fish and bird die-offs. “Plagues and Pleasures on the Salton Sea” is co-directed by Jeff Springer and Chris Metzler, who an in-depth history of the area and its highs and lows while introducing us to the area’s current residents, some of whom have lived there for years upon years. It’s a motley crue, to be sure, living in a land where palm trees surround trailers, golf carts are the preferred method of transportation, and the whole place could pass for a ghost town if you didn’t know better…and, yet, we meet a bunch of folks who seem quite happy to be living where they do. Some of my favorites were Harold Gaston, the 90+ year old owner of Gaston’s Cafe, Hunky Daddy, the unofficial mayor of the city (who has leapt to the top of my list of Hungarians I’d Like To Have A Beer With), and the Landman, who’s always trying to sell folks a lot in the area, but the place is filled with low-key, upbeat people who always seem to be ready with a smile and a story: Norm Niver, Les Marty, and Aunt Marney, Bobbie Todhunter, Paul Clement, and…oh, geez, I can’t forget Donald Scheidler, the town’s resident nudist, or mountain artist Leonard Knight! Most of the folks who live in Bombay Beach don’t come nearly as well, unfortunately; it’s admirable that they want to raise their kids in a safer environment than can be found in the bigger cities of Southern California, but when the parents are seen strutting down the street, tossing back big-ass glasses of beer, you begin to wonder exactly how much better off the kids are going to end up. There are moments of amusement in the film, as you can tell from the above description, but for the most part, “Plagues and Pleasures on the Salton Sea” is actually pretty serious…and pretty depressing, actually. The residents are amazingly upbeat, given everything their area has suffered through over the years; in fact, while this may be a travelogue about a place you’d probably never want to visit yourself, by the end, you’ll find that you wouldn’t actually mind meeting some of the people who live there.
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I can still remember when I was first introduced to the music of Syd Barrett. I was hanging out with my buddy Bobby Fulford – he and I had been comrades in arms behind the grill at McDonald’s – and it wasn’t long after he’d begun to teach me the wonders of Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians when he said, “Well, if you like Robyn Hitchcock, you ought to love this guy, because he’s where Hitchcock got his sound from.” I’d never really been a big Pink Floyd fan (given how little album rock I’d listened to at the time, I probably didn’t know much more than “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2”), but, still, I was surprised at the sounds I heard when Bob spun me efforts from Barrett’s pair of solo efforts, The Madcap Laughs and Barrett. The first album I ever got by Syd, however, was Opel, a collection of outtakes and alternate versions of songs from those two albums; in theory, it shouldn’t have been the best indoctrination to the man’s work, given its disjointed nature and the rawness of some of the tracks, but all I know is that I fell love with it in a big, big way…like, to the point where I actually had a poster for it adorning the wall of my college dorm room. Hmmm…now that I think about it, this could be why no-one ever believed me when I told them I’d never done drugs.
In the wake of Syd Barrett’s death in 2006, there proved to be a considerable renaissance of interest in his work, both in the Floyd and as a solo artist, but he’d always maintained a consistent cult following. DVD efforts like “Syd Barrett: Up Close and Personal” and “Syd Barrett: Under Review” tried and failed to serve as definitive efforts of his life, times, and musical legacy; with “The Pink Floyd and Syd Barrett Story,” however, we come pretty darned close…or, at least, far closer than we’ve ever come before. In addition to new interviews with the four other members of Pink Floyd – Roger Waters, David Gilmour, Rick Wright, and Nick Mason – we also receive insight from former Humble Pie drummer Jerry Shirley, who sat behind the kit for Barrett’s solo albums, and we get a tour of Barrett’s old apartment from former roommate Duggie Fields. (Fields has lived there for years; in fact, it’s the very same apartment where the cover shot for The Madcap Laughs was taken.) Bill Hicks once observed that “the musicians that made all that great music that’s enhanced your lives throughout the years were rrreal fucking high on drugs,” and while the documentary takes us on a trip from Barrett’s birth through his musical career to his final years, it ultimately serves as a cautionary tale of the effects of L.S.D. on the human brain. But since Barrett’s abuse led to him offering up some of the most creative, inspired music of the 1960s, I sometime find myself of mixed emotions when listening to it. Given how much I love his work, does that mean that I’m secretly glad that he fried his brain? That’s a road best not traveled, I suspect. If you’re a longtime Floyd and Barrett fan, you’ll have heard many of these stories before, but it doesn’t make them any less fascinating, amusing, or depressing, such as when Roger Waters tells the tale of Barrett’s maddening “composition” that changed every time Barrett tried to teach it to him. (Its title: “Have You Got It Yet?”) We about the damage the drugs did on Barrett’s mood and how it affected his actions, about the excruciating appearance the band made on Pat Boone’s show, where Syd just sat there and stared at Pat, and, most importantly, about the day that the other members of Pink Floyd made the group decision to kick Syd out of the band by, uh, just not going to pick him up for their next show. As ever, though, the most disconcerting story comes when the band discusses how, while they were in the midst of recording a song which had been inspired by Syd (“Wish You Were Here”), they turned to discover that the man himself was at the back of the studio; it was the first time any of them had seen him in years, and he’d gained weight and shaved both his head and his eyebrows. It proved to be the last time most of them ever saw him. In addition to the documentary proper, there are extended versions of interviews with Waters and Gilmour. In particular, there’s a brilliant moment where Gilmour is discussing “Wish You Were Here,” then looks around the room and mutters something like, “If I could find the guitar, I’d play it for you.” But it’s obvious that he’s not looking terribly hard for it, and you can all but hear the twitch in the interviewer’s voice as he sits there, trying to say outright, “Um…if you want to look for it, I can wait!” (Thankfully, Gilmour does succeed in finding the guitar and playing a bit of the song.) Also included amongst the special features are a trio of highly enjoyable acoustic performances of Barrett compositions from Robyn Hitchcock and Graham Coxon; Hitchcock’s takes on “Dominoes” and “It Is Obvious” only se |
