PASSAGE TO ADULTHOOD ON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER: a review of "Mud"

"MUD"

Written and Directed by Jeff Nichols

*** (three stars)

In my previous and harshly negative review of "Oblivion," I lambasted Director Joseph Kosinski for not injecting a sense of personality within the proceedings to make his latest science fiction epic represents something that houses his original creative voice. It was,without question, the crucial element that stopped what could have been a terrific film dead in its tracks. 

This week, I arrive to you after taking in a screening of "Mud," a coming of age drama from filmmaker Jeff Nichols whose last effort was the excellent and deeply disturbing psychological drama "Take Shelter" (2011). While I do not feel that his new film climbed upwards to those same artistic heights, what a difference having and utilizing one's own creative voice can make with material that is otherwise familiar. And when you combine a strong artistic vision with equally perceptive, precise writing, direction and a host of strong acting performances, you are rewarded with a film that, unlike "Oblivion," is more than worth your time.

"Mud" is set in present day Arkansas near the Mississippi river and stars the extremely natural and gifted young actors Tye Sheridan and Jacob Lofland as, Ellis and Neckbone, respectively. As the film opens, these two 14 year old best friends are completely caught up within their daily adventures, when they decided to voyage by a small motorized boat to an isolated island. It is on this island where they discover another boat, inexplicably lodged high above ground in a tree. Upon further investigation inside the boat, Ellis and Neck soon realize, after discovering of a small amount of food and collection of Penthouse magazines, that the boat is currently inhabited. Feeling fearful, the two race back to their own boat with an attempt to leave and return home and they then immediately find boot prints with cross-marks in the heel in the sand completely around their mode of transportation. Finally, they meet the owner of the boot prints and occupier of the tree housed boat: Mud (a strong Matthew McConaughey), a dishelved, trimly muscular, unshaven man adorned with a white linen shirt and a pistol tucked in the back of his jeans. 

The threesome form a tentative friendship and soon a full fledged pact as Mud reveals himself to be a fugitive, on the run from the law and bounty hunters and living in self-imposed exile on this island. Ellis and Neck promise to bring Mud food and soon vow to bring him tools, supplies and machinery so he can dislodge the boat from the tree, escape the island and reunite him with his lost love, the ever elusive Juniper (Reese Witherspoon), who is living just outside of town in a seedy motel.

How all of the threads of the story connect and build is, of course, not for me to reveal to you here. But as with Nichols' "Take Shelter," "Mud" contains a slow, quiet, power that by its climax rises to full emotional resonance that almost feels as if the floor has given way due to its unexpectedness and explosiveness. 

Jeff Nichols' "Mud" is an atmospheric Southern tale that is as languid as an endless summer's day. Despite its present day time period, Nichols has given "Mud" a completely timeless quality that makes his story feel as if it could be taking place within any era. The hefty influence of Mark Twain is obviously evident as Ellis and Neckbone are essentially 21st century versions of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer with their travels up and down the Mississippi river, and each voyage instilling them with a greater understanding of the world that surrounds them. But unlike Joseph Kosinski, Jeff Nichols understands that he cannot simply ape Twain's classic storytelling style and call it his own. With "Mud," you are able to sense that Nichols possesses a rich, empathetic and singular creative voice that is entirely his own and after now viewing two of his films, I am truly impressed with his storytelling range as the coming of age plot of "Mud" and the nearly apocalyptic visions of "Take Shelter" are miles apart in regards to their respective genres. 

And here is where I was considerably softer on "Mud." I do have to say that I did feel that "Mud" was a bit of a comedown after being so enthralled by "Take Shelter," as that film was something I had truly never seen before and the plot of "Mud" is as old as the hills by comparison. Now most certainly, if you have been a fairly consistent reader of Savage Cinema, you have gathered that I hold a certain affinity for the coming of age story line and yes, it is a theme that speaks to my heart grandly. But, in "Mud," when that theme essentially boiled down to "the summer that changed my life," I guess I may have felt a certain weariness with the familiarity, especially from a filmmaker who surprised me so greatly his previous time at the cinematic bat. I couldn't help but to have expected something more on a creative level perhaps something akin to Writer/Director Benh Zeitlin's masterful "Beasts Of The Southern Wild" (2012), a film, like "Take Shelter," that also delivered in ways that I had not seen in quite the same way before. All of that being said, what Nichols does indeed achieve with "Mud," and something that may resonate even further with me on future viewings, is that he has found several ideas to take that ancient theme of growing up and make it his own and sing its own bittersweet songs.

First of all, I loved how Nichols spent so much time with the boys, Mud, and some of the other adult characters, either in travel on the Mississippi river or viewing their lives existing as closely to the natural world as possible. I enjoyed seeing a collective of individuals, and therefore a full community who have taken such pride, and have completely internalized their relationships with the land and nature. Their ability to navigate the waters with such ease was incredible to me. One sequence, which depicted Ellis travelling alone on the Mississippi deep in the night between his home to the island where Mud resides with only a flashlight, blew me away with its matter of fact directness! It is a journey in that black country night sky, that complete darkness, that would absolutely upend a city dweller like myself who desperately needs lights, signs and very noticeable landmarks to move around comfortably. It is that very innate sense of direction, and the attention Nichols gives to that element, that truly stood out for me, especially as that specific quality works in contrast to the film's more precarious emotional landscape.             

While the film is indeed entitled "Mud," this film is undeniably the story of Ellis, and Mud functions as the catalyst to bridge all of the characters together. At very first glance of the two boys, I was immediately and constantly struck by their physical similarities. Even further, I immediately thought that Neckbone, with his shorter, closely cropped hair, harder gaze, coarser language and also as he was the possessor of the film's the dirt-bike that provides the boys with much travel throughout the film, would be the leader of the two. But, that thought is quickly inverted as we realize the he is the sidekick to Ellis, who leads his way through the world with a fierce pureness of heart and romantic world view that he is steadfast to protect.

Life has become increasingly turbulent for young Ellis as his quarreling parents (played by Ray McKinnon and Sarah Paulsen ) are soon to divorce, with his Mother potentially uprooting him from his beloved natural surroundings and taking him deeper into the city. He harbors an intense and soon to be unrequited crush on a local girl (Bonnie Sturdivant) as well. His tentative yet committed friendship with the exiled Mud, gives Ellis a reason to retain his firm grasp upon his idealistic views on loyalty, trust, honor and love yet throughout the course of "Mud," Ellis is introduced to his first tastes of the moral grayness of life and adulthood and what it truly takes to grow from boy to man. 

Here is where "Mud" works at its absolute best and also the spot where the core themes of this film and "Take Shelter" actually intersect. What I am gathering after viewing two of Jeff Nichols' films is his ability and desire to explore the internal lives of Southern, small town, taciturn men who are trapped in some sense of arrested development. They are all either emotionally stunted, debilitated, crippled or even altogether dilapidated to varying degrees. In "Take Shelter," we could be seeing the effects of advancing schizophrenia on that film's central character. In "Mud," we are witnessing a collective of men entirely undone by the women in their lives and the love they held for them. Yes, we see Ellis' Father confronted with losing his wife and Mud himself is desperately trying to win back and return to his beloved yet duplicitous Juniper. But we also meet the equally isolated and lonely neighbor Tom Blankenship (a rock solid Sam Shepard) and even Neckbone's Uncle Galen (Michael Shannon), whose personal devotion to The Beach Boys' classic "Help Me Rhonda" gives the song and film a deeper and more melancholic significance. By seeing the world through Ellis' eyes and soul, we are also perhaps being given a glimpse into how the romantic lives and worldviews of his Father, Tom Blankenship, Galen and Mud all began. With that, Jeff Nichols bridges the natural and emotional terrains to weave a tale of how romantic childhood notions lead into the deeper, darker, and more unpredictable waters of harder and harsher adult realities. And that, dear readers, was particularly compelling for me. 

All of the film's performances are top notch. Matthew McConaughey is very good in the titular role but it is not a game changer for him by any stretch. Mud does indeed exist within the same wheelhouse as past McConaughaey film scoundrels but I do think that he has been given the opportunity to dig a bit further and darker than he has typically been given the chance to do. In fact, the character of Mud made me think of what could possibly have happened to McConaughey's overly slick character from Writer/Director Richard Linklater's "Dazed And Confused" (1993) if over 20 years had passed, and all of his once self-perceived good fortune had given way to such bad luck that he has long accepted his fate and has chosen to live life completely off the grid. But again, "Mud" is completely young Tye Sheridan's show and he is more than up to the challenge with a fully committed and engaged performance that I sincerely hope is recognized when awards season arrives many moths from now as he deserves the attention and any accolades he may receive from his strong work. 

While I was not blown away, I do want to take this opportunity to send virtual thanks to Jeff Nichols for showing me that all is not lost in the world of cinematic storytelling. Although we are still very early in the movie year, it has not been a good one so far and truly quite the steep fall after 2012's consistently high quality which lasted throughout the entirety of the year. But films like "Mud" do indeed give me hope that brighter movie days are still to follow and with a talent like Jeff Nichols, movies will remain in good hands. 

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY: a review of "Oblivion"

"OBLIVION" 

Based upon the graphic novel by Joseph Kosinski

Screenplay Written by Karl Gadjusek and William Monahan

Directed by Joseph Kosinki

* (one star)

"What is hell?...The same old situation. No imagination."
-Todd Rundgren ("Imagination")

When I openly wondered, if after viewing Director Danny Boyle's strong, propulsive, ferociously inventive art-house thriller "Trance" last week, that the movie year of 2013 would now begin to have an upswing in quality, I realize now that I spoke way too soon.

Director Joseph Kosinki's science fiction epic "Oblivion" is by far one of the worst films of 2013. Yup, it has already made that dubious list and I will do whatever I am able to do within the course of this review to stop you from wasting your hard earned time and money on this piece of massively budgeted yet shamelessly derivative material. Yes, Kosinski has made a shiny, pretty thing to look at but trust me, dear readers, there is absolutely nothing here for any of you to latch onto. Well...let me amend that statement...slightly. If any of you happens to be someone who has absolutely, positively never seen a science fiction film in your lives, then sure, "Oblivion" just might have something to offer for you. But for everyone else, especially those who have seen science fiction themed films from the last 45 years or so, do not waste your time. It's just not worth it whatsoever as Kosinki has not condescended to inject even one original thought into his own movie. "Oblivion" is so impersonal and so rehashed that it feels as if it was not even directed by a human being. This film feels like it was directed by Xerox!

As "Oblivion" opens in the year 2077, we learn that 60 years in the past, an alien race, pejoratively described as "Scavs" and whose own planet had been depleted of its resources forcing them to leave, arrived to Earth with the intent upon raiding our planet's resources for themselves. They destroyed our moon, causing an ecological apocalypse which was then followed by war and ending with nuclear holocaust. Although the human race had won the war, Earth had then become uninhabitable, forcing humans to depart Earth and take refuge upon the largest moon in Saturn's solar system.   

Jack Harper (Tom Cruise) is one of the last humans stationed on Earth as he is employed as a technician to monitor and repair the myriad of drones as well as extract usable resources for the humans living outside of Saturn. He lives thousands of miles above the Earth with his Communications Officer and lover Victoria (the captivating Andrea Riseborough) and their only contact with civilization is through a video link with their supervisor Sally (Melissa Leo).

Although both Jack and Victoria had their memories erased five years earlier, Jack is haunted by dreams and flashbacks to a period in pre-apocalypse New York on the Empire State Building, a time before he was even born, when he was in love with a mysterious woman (Olga Kurylenko). He has also kept hidden from Victoria a small, secluded woodsy cabin in which he has stocked a collection of items and artifacts (books, records, artwork, etc...)  found on his daily journeys to the Earth to gather resources as well as fight for his life against the remaining "Scavs." 

As Jack and Victoria enter the final two weeks of their work before they are ready to re-join humanity, a spaceship, brought down by the Scavs crashes onto Earth carrying a group of passengers in hibernation, including the woman from Jack's dreams. This event begins the cycle in which everything Jack had thought to had been true begins to unravel, forcing him to accept and fight for an even greater sense of humanity.

Now, with that description, I would not be surprised if any of you out there would think that "Oblivion" is already sounding like it would be an intriguing, involving haunting and even excitingly dark science fiction ride. And to that, I would agree with you. If I had read that description, I would be first in line to see this movie. But, I must remind you of something the late, great Roger Ebert intoned over and again throughout his legendary career. That a movie is not about what it is about. But how it is about what it is about. To illustrate, please allow me to rewind the Savage Cinema clock to an earlier review...

"At this time, if I could offer Joseph Kosinski any word of advice (and knowing that he would listen to little old me), I would advise him to not let his film references overtake his own artistic vision. Yes, this is his first film and again, it is an excellent form of craftsmanship, but everything in it has been recycled from something else and without a sense of any new perspective. In comparing "Tron: Legacy" to Christopher Nolan’s “Inception,” we have a film that proudly wore its influences upon its dream world sleeves but everything was filtered through Nolan’s consistent themes and concepts of duality and mind games, themes which have been a part of all of his films since “Momento” (2000). “Inception” was yet another chapter in Christopher Nolan’s ongoing oeuvre and I would love the chance to see what a filmmaker of Kosinski’s obvious talents would do with an original story."

I wrote those words in my January 2011 review of Joseph Kosinki's "Tron: Legacy" (2010) and with "Oblivion," he has taken the idea of recycling past material to new heights...or depths, as the case may be. Instead of utilizing familiar elements and filtering them through his own, unique creative vice to essentially create something new, Joseph Kosinki has essentially stolen every element from past science fiction whole cloth and then has the audacity to try and consider it as something inventive. Despite anything he may attest to in interviews and promotional material, extolling how "Oblivion" is an homage, I am here to vehemently express to you that "Oblivion" is not homage. It's cinematic plagiarism.

Within the film's first five to ten minutes, there were direct steals from "Vanilla Sky" (2001) and "I Am Legend" (2007) down to the actual camera shots and even the extreme similarity of the dialogue. As "Oblivion continued, the comparisons were glaringly obvious to an extremely detrimental and flabbergasting degree. Let's see, and without any difficulty due to the blatant nature of Kosinski's "homage," there are themes  concepts, plot points, plot twists and threads "Oblivion"...ahem...shares with the following:

"2001: A Space Odyssey" (1968)  

"Planet Of The Apes" (1968)    

"The Omega Man" (1971)

"Soylent Green" (1973) and frankly, essentially every dystopian science-fiction film from the 1970s

"Star Wars" (1977)

"The Black Hole" (1979)

"Mad Max" series (1979/1982/1985)

"Total Recall" (1990)

"Twelve Monkeys" (1995) 

"The Matrix" series (1999/2003)

"Solaris" (original 1972/remake 2002)

"Wall-E" (2008)

Good Lord!! And I'm not exaggerating whatsoever. I was actually stunned to not hear those five iconic musical notes from Steven Spielberg's "Close Encounters Of The Third Kind" (1977) but maybe that will end up as a deleted scene on the future DVD/Blu-Ray release.

COME ON!! Who did Kosinki think that he was fooling?! Is Kosinki really that unoriginal, unimaginative and flat out lazy or is he just that disingenuous enough to think that he could pull a fast one over the audience, claiming that this particular vision was completely his own? Honestly, since "Oblivion" has already collected a hefty box office take in its opening weekend, I feel that Joseph Kosinki should offer all of those directors (and/or their respective estates) of those aforementioned list of past films a portion of the proceeds! 

Seriously, this specific creative quandary does really bring to mind the question of whether it is even possible to have anything that is truly original anymore or even at all. To that, I would argue that yes, originality can still exist, and strongly so, although it really does feel to be in short supply these days. There is the process of homage, of course. I understand that. What else was Roland Emmerich's "Independence Day" (1996) but a large scaled homage to science-fiction itself? Yet, that was part of the blast of that experience, the joy of finding all of the references Emmerich placed front and center as a form of recognition, celebration and stellar entertainment while also telling a rip roaring "end of the world/let's unite and retaliate" saga. 

But let's go even further. Look at George Lucas and "Star Wars" itself, which, as we all know by now, is a mish-mash containing classic mythology, a dash of Tolkein, a taste of Akira Kurosawa samurai films and John Ford westerns as well as a healthy heaping dose of classic and corny Saturday afternoon "Flash Gordon" and "Buck Rogers" serials. Yet, Lucas was able to mix them and present his story, filtered through his influences, in a way that felt to be entirely personal and on the level of something that had not been seen in quite the same way before. Or let's even look beyond science-fiction at someone like Quentin Tarantino who doesn't just wear his influences upon his sleeves but as badges of honor. Yet, the way in which he filters and utilizes his influences and inspirations is so unique that some critics have even gone as far as to describe his style as "Tarantino-ian"! 

What I am trying to say is that with Lucas, Tarantino and in the previous example of Christopher Nolan, originality arrives through purity of an individual striving to find and discover their own creative voice within all of the influences that have worked to shape them. After two films now, I honestly cannot say what Joseph's Kosinski's original creative voice actually is. As "Oblivion" has no real perspective on the influences that have shaped it, the film contains absolutely no personality of its own as it has copied everything else before it. Therefore what we have ended up with is a big budget epic that is insufferably bland. And I would have been infuriated with "Oblivion" to the point of hurling objects at the screen if I hadn't spent so much of my time trying to stay awake!!

"Oblivion," unfortunately and almost unforgivably, is an interminable, turgid, slumberous experience in addition to being unimaginative. It is a film that runs a hair over two hours and it feels like five hours have elapsed. Please understand that "Oblivion" is not a film that is building with a slow burn. It's not moody. It's not atmospheric, esoteric or even European. This film is just flat-out BORING! A snail at rest is faster paced that any one moment in this film. And of course, my tedium with the film also stems back the the basic problem of its blatantly derivative nature. As "Oblivion" contains no real characters to latch onto as every one of them, plus their emotions, motivations are entirely generic. And in turn, every twist, turn and revelation in the plot is generic as well. 

The supreme failure of "Oblivion" does not fall of the shoulders of Tom Cruise by any means. Besides, he didn't write or direct this mess! Cruise is as committed as he has ever been but that being said, his character feels as if it is nothing more than a clone made from the assembled parts and pieces of past Cruise characters and performances. Morgan Freeman (who looks as if he's wearing Morpheus' clothes if he were dumped into the Thunderdome) is completely under utilized making his presence a wasted effort.

But then, of course, there is the question of whether "Oblivion" is at least a good looking film with great special effects. Well...yes and no. For me, "Oblivion" suffers the same, and huge, problem that Sam Raimi's "Oz The Great And Powerful" suffered from. For all of the special effects that are being hurled our way from the opening frames to the film's final shot, nothing is ever impressive and all of it is more than a major yawn. This does bring into question another major quandary of our current big budget, special effects driven cinema. Have we become so used to special effects that they are not even special anymore? 

Just think. When was the last time special effects really transported you? For every film like Edgar Wright's "Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World" (2010) or Ang Lee's "Life Of Pi" (2012), which made special effects feel so new and vibrantly alive again, most films are kind of like "Oblivion" these days, with visual magic all over the place but being rarely impressive, enticing or magical at all. Again, this problem all comes down to the director and as with every other element in "Oblivion," Joseph Kosinki offers no real perspective on anything he is showing us. It just hangs on the screen, looking as shiny and as expensive as a plastic call girl. It is all so meaningless and surprisingly contains no sense of awe, excitement, wonder, terror or anything resembling an emotion. I mean--in theory, and on the page, the idea of a space station that sits above the clouds, so highly that thunderstorms occur underneath you, is something that sounds like it would be an awesome sight to see and experience! And sadly, while those visuals are rendered with the top of the line special effects we have all come to expect when we see a big budget film like this one, to present them without any sense of real, inspiring imagination, the kind that looks as if the dreams from inside of our heads were somehow plucked and replaced upon celluloid  is just inexcusable  Having the money to buy "great" special effects are not enough. What makes them great is vision to augment the craftsmanship and artistry and Joseph Kosinki failed on all counts.

Dear readers, I obviously have nothing personal again Joseph Kosinki, especially as I do not know the man in real life at all. I wish him no ill will and I do sincerely hope that when he gets around to making his next film, that the experience will be exceedingly better. If I were able to speak to him, I would deeply urge him to really think about what the films of the past mean to him on an emotional level and for that, he has to dig deeply to gain a perspective and devise what his creative voice is actually going to be. Otherwise, his copycat movies won't be worth viewing at all as by then, most audiences would have discovered that there is just no wizard behind his directorial curtain. Just a cinematic charlatan trying to utilize big money and visual razzle dazzle to blind us from the truth. 

May the complete fiasco that is "Oblivion" serve as a cautionary tale for him and other cinematic storytellers for we all deserve so much better.

SAVAGE POSTSCRIPT: 

The quest for and survival of humanity in a world where it is in disastrously short supply is always a great theme to revisit within science fiction but if you would like to see a fairly recent film that handles nearly the exact same material as "Oblivion" in a demonstrably better and more intriguing, emotionally involving and entertaining fashion then please allow me to point you to Director Duncan Jones' "Moon" (2009) starring an excellent Sam Rockwell. 

My original review of that film can be found within the February 2010 section of this website and I urge you to rent this film instead of plunking down even one cent for "Oblivion."

I MUST REMEMBER NEVER TO FORGET: a review of "Trance"

"TRANCE"

Story by Joe Ahearne

Screenplay Written by Joe Ahearne and John Hodge

Directed by Danny Boyle

***1/2 (three and a half stars) 

After a most sub-par opening to the cinematic year of 2013, I am hoping that I have now seen the beginning of better things to come.

Director Danny Boyle's "Trance" is a kaleidoscopically kinetic art-house thriller that splendidly merges the crime caper drama with a psychological head spinner and is filtered through Boyle's endlessly inventive, virtuoso filmmaking that nearly always puts most modern day filmmakers to shame. Granted, "Trance" does not scale the supremely emotional heights and jaw dropping power of his previous cinematic one-two punch of the Academy Awards Best Picture recipient "Slumdog Millionaire" (2008) and the existential survivalist drama "127 Hours" (2010). But do not allow that small dip discourage you as "Trance" more than delivers the goods almost on sheer creativity alone, which makes for a film-going experience that is just flat out fun as Boyle tosses out one curve ball after another and we try to keep up with him by catching them all.

"Trance" stars James McAvoy in a vibrantly muscular performance as Simon, a fine arts dealer and gambling addict who becomes involved with a gang of art thieves led by Franck (an excellent Vincent Cassell), as they all attempt to steal a painting of Goya's Witches In the Air, a piece worth millions of dollars. During the heist, Simon suffers a severe blow to the head and after waking, he is completely unable to remember exactly where he hid the painting, much to the fury of Franck and his gang. When threats and physical torture fail to reveal the location of the painting, Franck hires the services of psychotherapist Elizabeth Lamb (Roasrio Dawson) to delve deeply into Simon's psyche through hypnotherapy, a process that will hopefully produce the desired results. Certainly, this scheme is all easier said than done, as the lines between Simon's sense of reality and memories combined with the true motives and even the true identities of himself and those around him are increasingly blurred, making the discovery of the lost, stolen painting's location the very least of his worries.  

In regards to the film's plot, "Trance" is indeed one of those films where this is just about as far as I am willing to divulge to you so as not to produce spoilers or ruin the the chance for you to piece together this cinematic puzzle. But I will tell you to be prepared for a barrage of hypnotherapy sessions, dream sequences, copious amounts of duplicitous behavior and ever shifting alliances, repressed memories, and sudden blasts of graphic violence and nudity. How they all fit together, I would not even dream of revealing to you so you will indeed have to go out and see this one for yourselves!

Even with all of the accolades that have been deservedly thrown his way over the years, it seems to be that while Danny Boyle is one of our most exhaustively inventive directors, he still is able to just kind of sneak past us and how thankful we should all be for that achievement. Danny Boyle is indeed a showman, as clearly evidenced by not only his complete filmography but also through his Herculean work with orchestrating this past summer's Opening Ceremony production for the London Olympics. Even so, we somehow are never quite able to see him coming and when he is working at his best, we are blindsided by his brilliance, making for the very type of movie-going surprises that are in such short supply these days.

Just take a moment to think about Danny Boyle's past work. This is the man who helmed the tightly wound British crime thriller "Shallow Grave" (1994), the drug fueled, hallucinogenic steamroller masterpiece "Trainspotting" (1996) and the deeply eerie and horrifically effective zombie film "28 Days Later" (2002). Even his missteps, like "A Life Less Ordinary" (1997) or "The Beach" (2000) are never less than fascinating to view, for Boyle is a filmmaker who has essentially not made the same film twice yet every one of them feels superbly unique to his aesthetics. With that, I really do not believe that it could possibly be questioned that Danny Boyle is a filmmaker who is clearly enthralled with the gifts and opportunities with which he has been given. His guilelessness and lack of jaded cynicism after all of these years makes for films that are invigorating to view. "Trance" is no exception as he is clearly having a blast and through his boundless enthusiasm, I was often quite swept away.

For me and my sensibilities, "Trance" is the most viscerally kinetic thriller I've seen since Director Joe Wright's outstanding "Hanna" (2011) and when Boyle and his film are working at it's very best, he even even touched the brass ring as "Trance" even reminded me, from time to time, of Director Jean-Jacques Beineix's groundbreaking French thriller "Diva" (1981), my favorite foreign film to this very day. From the opening shots, "Trance" blazes onto the screen with energy to burn and for the remainder, it moves like a rocket. The film is a veritable explosion of colors, sound and beautifully staged mirror imagery that is flat out mesmerizing to view. Boyle has employed a crack team to assist him and tremendous compliments must be delivered to Editor Jon Harris, Cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle and most especially, Composer Rick Smith of the band Underworld, whose pulsating, throbbing electronic score gives "Trance" its rapidly palpitating heartbeat and relentless tension. "Trance" is a gorgeous film to look at as well as listen to thanks to their combined artistry. And most certainly, James McAvoy, Rosario Dawson and Vincent Cassell are all working in peak form, each of them delivering strong, convincing and nearly breathless performances that show that they are all apt to keep pace with Boyle's energy.

Yet even with all of this praise, there was something about "Trance" that did feel a little slight, I guess. Something about it just didn't make it stick to the cinematic ribs, so to speak. I guess I wished for a bit more of that emotional resonance Boyle has accomplished so heroically with his previous two films but that being said, "127 Hours" is not necessarily a film that I would eagerly sit through again as it was so grueling an experience. "Trance," however, is indeed a film that I could easily see myself viewing time and again in the future either on DVD or when it will inevitably end up playing endlessly on cable, as I do enjoy a strong suspenseful thriller that functions as a psychological jigsaw puzzle. 

But still, I return to the feeling that I had that this film just felt to be a tad lighter than air. As I watched "Trance," I couldn't help but to think of other films within the past 13 years that played with our perceptions of reality and became deeply resonant works that truly disturbed and burrowed under my skin. Christopher Nolan's "Momento" (2000) immediately sprang to mind as did Cameron Crowe's "Vanilla Sky" (2001), David Lynch's "Mulholland Drive" (2001) and definitely Darren Aronofsky's operatic nightmare "Black Swan" (2010). 

And then, there was also Michel Gondry's "Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind" (2004) and Charlie Kaufman's "Synecdoche, New York" (2008), two films that explored the unreliable nature of memory, identity, self-perception and consciousness itself as those film's characters were respectfully dealing with either crippling romantic heartbreak or travelling through the process of aging and dying. All of those films showcased the labyrinthine nature of the mind itself in ways that were nothing less than enthralling as well as deeply unsettling. To its credit, "Trance" does indeed inject an exploration of free will vs.destiny as one character in particular displays a certain sense of omnipotence and omnipresence but even so, it all felt to be nothing more than elaborate window dressing than anything truly insightful.

But to be completely fair, perhaps I am beginning to review what the film isn't rather than what it is. Because at its core, "Trance" is a sumptuous slice of pulpy noir expertly mounted for our viewing pleasure. No more. No less. 

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, especially when you are in the gleefully excited directorial hands of Danny Boyle. 

FOR THEN, FOR NOW, FOR ALWAYS: THE SAVAGE CINEMA TRIBUTE TO THE LIFE AND LEGACY OF ROGER EBERT

ROGER EBERT

JUNE 18, 1942-APRIL 4, 2013

I wish beyond nearly all wishes that I did not have to write this latest piece. But sometimes, ever so sadly, even the greatest wishes do not come true.

Late in the afternoon on Thursday, April 4th, I clicked onto the internet for a moment and was immediately greeted with a news announcement on the Yahoo home page that stopped me cold. Roger Ebert, film critic for the Chicago Sun Times since 1967, 1975 Pulitzer Prize winner for film criticism, celebrated film historian and author, legendary co-host of television's "Sneak Previews" and all of its incarnations, honorary member of the Director's Guild Of America, screenwriter for Director Russ Meyer's bawdy cult classic "Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls" (1970), and the only film critic to have ever received a star upon the Hollywood Walk Of Fame passed away after a nearly 11 year battle with cancer, a disease which left him without his lower jaw as well as the ability to speak or eat during the final years of his life. While his passing was certainly inevitable given the severity of his illness, the arrival of the news felt as hard as a sucker punch in the middle of my face. Or more truthfully, my heart.

Since first reading the news, friends have sent me notes or quick messages through the internet offering condolences to me, an odd thing as I never knew the man personally and only had the extreme pleasure of meeting and briefly interacting with him once at a book signing in 1995. Yet, by the same token, I completely understand the gestures as everyone who has ever known me for so much of my life knows without question how the massive influence his life, work, writings and legacy have shaped and formulated the person I am today. 

Without question, Savage Cinema would not exist at all if not for him and the work he performed throughout his life, either on his own or in collaboration with the late Gene Siskel who passed away after his battle with brain cancer in 1999. As I have ruminated over this incredible loss, the voice of John Lennon has repeatedly echoed within my brain, taking me back to the very moment when I first read this awful, awful news. "I read the news today...oh boy...," Lennon sang. Did I ever. One thing that is so painful about growing older is having to occasionally and increasingly having to go through the process of saying goodbye to loved ones, including one's heroes. And here I am again, having to say goodbye to one more. Words are flowing around in my head at this time and I am unsure as to how to formulate them all. But, for Roger Ebert, who gifts and skills were and remain as nothing less than eternal treasures for me, I believe that I OWE this man the very best that I am able to muster for he has given more to me than I could have ever imagined and I would never have enough life to thank him for it. Mr. Ebert, this is for you. For then, for now, for always.

My connection to the art, language and power of the movies and my introduction to Roger Ebert arrived, either through coincidence or fate, in the summer of 1977 when I was eight years old. Before this time, I really hadn't seen that many movies and frankly, my overall interest in them was essentially non-existent. For me, the act of going to the movies was a fun outing and also an event to perhaps munch on a tasty snack of popcorn. Nothing more. But then, on May 25, 1977, my life changed forever, when my Dad took my family to an opening day showing of George Lucas' "Star Wars." It was as if a bolt of lightning had found me within the confines of a movie theater and opened my soul to an entirely new world...the world of motion pictures and all of the art and artistry contained therein.

A short time after seeing "Star Wars," and on one typically inauspicious evening at dinner in my household, my Dad was casually changing channels until the image of the Millennium Falcon consumed in a dogfight with TIE Fighters raced across the television screen. Begging him to please not change the channel, I was soon introduced to a sight that altered my life just as seismically...

"On the television screen sat two men. One man was thin, unmistakably grumpy and tall and the other man was corpulent, bespectacled, slightly more jovial yet no less serious. They appeared to me as sort of a real world “Bert and Ernie”as they sat across from each other in what looked to be a movie theater balcony and then, they began to speak about the images I had just watched. They spoke in a tenor that was similar to the type I had heard so, so often on the Chicago sports talk radio programs my Father obsessively listened to yet this time, that tenor zeroed in towards my personal frequencies. While I didn’t understand everything they were talking about, the language somehow felt inherently familiar and I only desired to hear more of what they had to say."

I wrote those italicized words over two and a half years ago, in my tribute to "At The Movies" (published August 2010), one of the various televised versions of the movie review program Roger Ebert began with Gene Siskel on public television in 1975. Essentially every single word within that tribute necessitates repetition at this time as those words and the emotion contained inside of them have only grown in sheer importance with the arrival of Roger Ebert's passing. As always, I invite you to read that posting in full if you wish but I will bring you some highlights as to how Roger Ebert influenced my life as a film enthusiast, the very highlights that I truly believe would mirror so many of your own feelings, especially now as we take copious time to reflect upon what Roger Ebert has given to the world.

I explained how Ebert and Siskel's television show existed for me as supremely informative, enormously entertaining and entirely riveting viewing week after week after week for nearly four decades. And over the years as I watched, I realized that what was being delivered to me was the very best film school education that I could have ever hoped to have as these two men, through their obvious passion and sheer enthusiasm, gave me the tools and the language they used themselves to watch, judge and rate films. They taught me that movies were not innocuous, disposable pieces of fluff to be consumed passively. That movies are an art form to be championed, celebrated, nurtured and loved and to do so, they taught me how to think about what I was watching, how I responded and how to engage and discuss with absolutely anyone about what I had seen and experienced. To that measure, Ebert and Siskel's consistent on-air showdowns, while incredibly visceral, most importantly introduced and educated me to the art of the debate as these men found a myriad of ways to to verbally arm themselves with intelligence, bravado, wit, and an unshakable determination to fiercely defend their opinions no matter what the opponent was hurling in their direction. 

Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel profoundly expanded my viewing horizons by introducing me to film styles, genres and filmmakers I otherwise would never have seen. Furthermore and regardless of whether the motion picture in question arrived from Hollywood with the largest budget and imaginable or if it was the independent feature that barely had two pennies to rub together, these men championed the quality of the work and the effectiveness of the storytelling. They celebrated sheer quality and they were also completely unafraid to call out anyone, including the giants of the movie industry when they creatively fell short or even sold out. Roger Ebert never, ever suffered cinematic fools lightly and when his rancor was unleashed, he always rose to the challenge with blistering, stinging humor and flat out superb writing. With Ebert and Siskel, their work was never presented with any sense of detached hipster irony or self-congratulatory film snobbishness. Their television program was a populist work meant for everyone and no wonder why the public embraced them so tightly, because we could see that they LOVED going to the movies just as much as you and I.

As I have stated in the past, Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel's work in television led me to their written work (as well as the written work of their colleagues in film criticism) and believe me, I read their respective reviews religiously and without fail. Over time, I slowly began to see how not only my own personal tastes within film were being formulated but also how I responded to the styles of their actual writing. Between those two men, Gene Siskel always struck me as being the one who was always much harder to impress and truth be told, my personal cinematic tastes have consistently aligned themselves more with Roger Ebert's, with all due respect to Siskel's brilliance. Now that is not to say that I have always agreed with Ebert. Not at all as I am actually still confounded by his harshly negative reviews of "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" (1982) as well as "Fight Club" (1999) among others to this very day!

Aside from personal opinions about individual films, what cannot ever be denied is that Roger Ebert was an astoundingly and gloriously gifted writer. In addition to the informative and entertainment value of his reviews, Roger Ebert always wrote passionately, directly, humorously, mercilessly, tenderly, intelligently, incisively, perceptively, creatively, completely, exquisitely, beautifully and most of all inclusively. As I also wrote in my tribute to his television legacy, he and Gene Siskel created a dialogue and conversation that was not designed to solely be held with each other. It was a dialogue and conversation they were beginning with anyone and absolutely everyone who chose to watch their program or read their newspaper reviews. Yet, there was a grace and lift to Ebert's writing that separated him from the rest of the film criticism pack. His work was supremely warm and welcoming and presented with the sheer conviction that his audience was intelligent  What and how he wrote was not only journalism of the highest order. What and how he wrote was nothing less than literary and like my favorite writers, from authors, journalists, musicians, screenwriters and critics, Roger Ebert's writing is precisely the type pf writing that I am aspiring to reach. He and his work represents the brass ring I am constantly stretching myself to grab. If I ever reach that goal, is actually not for me to decide. That estimation is for you, of course. But, it is through the trying, sifting, seeking and pursuit of those collection of words or that singular phrase that will illuminate a deeper truth, where I hope to possibly enter in the realm where Roger Ebert existed.  

For me, all writing, whether creatively or through Savage Cinema, is like piecing together an unbelievably complicated jigsaw puzzle where words, thoughts and emotions are the pieces hoping to align themselves harmoniously into a complete "picture" that is then understandable to everyone. I want to express to you, as purely as possible, that in countless ways, my writings and reviews are almost entirely modeled upon Roger Ebert's. I am not actively attempting to copy him or even trying to emulate him for I just could not even if I tried, and furthermore, what would even be the point of doing so? I am just trying to accomplish through my writing what he has accomplished so magically with his own writing and every review I write is a baby step towards reaching that pinnacle.

You see, Roger Ebert was never adverse to including himself within his reviews. To me, much like his trademark "Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down" judgments, this particular inclusion and stylistic choice did not make his work in film criticism any less serious in comparison to others within his specialized field. For me, it elevated the work because it made the reviews personal statements of such individuality and frankly, why not? Because our relationships with any form of art, whether it leans towards the intellectual or the emotional or in some hybrid, are always personal and serve their purpose to build, express, formulate or illuminate who we are as individual beings. With Roger Ebert, as you learned about a film, you equally learned about Roger Ebert himself and that quality is one that I keep trying to include and reach within my own writings. He wrote for himself but he also wrote for us and we learned about him, the movies as well as ourselves together all along the way.

By the time his illness robbed him of his ability to speak, Roger Ebert's voice and his command of it extended itself powerfully into cyberspace with his blogsite at www.rogerebert.com. In addition to film his writing began to include ruminations upon politics, Science, religion and spirituality, his world travels, food and cooking, his overall worldview and most crucially, his deteriorating health with a clear-eyed, open-hearted and unsentimental candidness that only opened the floodgates for him to receive a new legion of readers. His writing remained as graceful and skilled as ever but it was met with a newfound level of bravery, honesty, integrity and fearlessness that was uncompromising and unrepentant. If you have not ever visited his blogsite, I deeply encourage you to head there and scroll through his writings to truly gather the sheer breadth of his work and ultimately, his consciousness. And then, do read the responses and I believe that for all of you who valued this man, you will find a piece of yourself somewhere within the relationships he formed with his audience, including those he occasionally corresponded with.

There is a quotation from Roger Ebert that has already been repeated frequently in the tributes that have been pouring in and it will be presented here as I believe this completely addresses his greatest achievements, as well as explains exactly why I loved this man so very, very much. The quotation is as follows: "If you only see films about people like yourself, why even bother to go? Because you already know about yourself," he remarked in a 2005 interview. "You can only find out about yourself by learning about others." 

That, I believe is the secret ingredient contained at the core of the wondrous legacy of Roger Ebert, the ingredient that set him miles apart from all others in his field, the ingredient that touched and inspired generations, and hopefully will continue to do so long, long, long into the future. It just even may be this very ingredient that has served as a catalyst for the massive outpouring of affection towards this man after this terrible news was announced to the world. For himself, as he embarked upon his own life's journey, he made the conscious decision as a journalist, film critic and writer to completely share that journey with all of us, inspiring a continuous dialogue between himself and his audience. Essentially, and like the title of his magnificent memoir, Roger Ebert's massive output was entirely about life itself. Roger Ebert showed me that movies are not just our dreams and fantasies presented upon celluloid for us to experienced together in a darkened theater. He showed and taught me the life lesson that above all else that movies are our window into the larger world and most importantly, our window into beginning our understanding of each other. This humane, empathetic, constantly curious and endlessly fascinated approach with life allowed him to explore the human condition in a most idiosyncratic and completely individualized fashion. There was undeniably nobody else like him and how blessed we are all for having had him as part of our collective existence for as long as we were able to.

At the time of this writing, the pain and sadness of my grief over Roger Ebert's passing has subsided...just a little. As I said earlier, this event was not unexpected considering the status of his health unlike the death of John Hughes, which was so shockingly and unforgivably sudden. But even so, Ebert seemed to remain so unstoppable, so determined, especially as his writing only increased during his final years. Beyond his output, and more on a personal level, Roger Ebert was, and will forever remain, a key figure and fixture in my life's journey and sense of self-discovery, which led me to a love of the movies, literature and all artistic pursuits plus aiding me in the self-discovery of the person I actually wish to be in this world. I honestly do not know how my life would have turned out or which directions I would have taken if I had never known of him and experienced what he shared with me and you. Roger Ebert's presence simply felt to be so...infinite...I guess, because for nearly my entire life, he has always been a major player. I cannot even imagine moving forwards in my life, going to the movies and now, not being able to to click on his website and read his latest thoughts and writings. To know that his voice will not be added to the ongoing discussion of the movies is just unfathomable to me and yet, here we are.

People have remarked that the passing of Roger Ebert represents the end of an era. To that, I am not ready to admit to that feeling. It's funny because just two days before his passing, Roger Ebert published what is now his final blog post, where he commemorated his 46 years as a film critic, revealed the return of his cancer, divulged a host of future plans (which includes a bio-documentary being created by Writer Steve Zaillian and Director Martin Scorsese) and concluded by saying, "So on this day of reflection I say again, thank you for going on this journey with me. I'll see you at the movies." The piece was curiously entitled, "A Leave Of Presence." A leave of presence?  In the posting, Ebert explained by stating, "It means that I am not going away."

After reading the statement released by Ebert's wife, Chaz Hammelsmith Ebert, where she explained the peacefulness of Roger Ebert's "transition," I began to wonder if the "A Leave Of Presence" blog posting was Ebert's way of saying goodbye to us ahead of time without alarming us all. Perhaps he knew he had reached his personal fade out and end credit scroll and this was his way of telling us. Of course, we will never know for certain. But I do wonder and because I wonder, and based upon his definition of "a leave of presence," I want to truly believe that Roger Ebert will never "go away."

Roger Ebert said in his memoir that "I know it is coming and I do not fear it, because I believe that there is nothing on the other side of death to fear...I was perfectly content before I was born and I think of death as the same state." With that, I ask of myself, as well as to all those whose lives Roger Ebert touched, to not be sad for too long because I just don't think that Ebert would want that for us. In fact, I think he would be a bit irritated if we mourned for far too long, whatever that time allotment would possible be. I really believe that Roger Ebert would want for all of us to keep going to the movies. To keep talking, debating, pondering and even arguing about the movies. To keep communicating with each other and learning about each other and the world that we share. If we keep doing those things, Roger Ebert will indeed, never go away.

There is a second quotation from Roger Ebert that has been briskly making the rounds within tribute and throughout the internet. It arrives from the conclusion of his memoir and I will repeat it in full at this time:

" 'Kindness' covers all of my political beliefs. No need to spell them out. I believe that if, at the end, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out."

A beautiful epiphany, beautifully stated. To honor and cherish his life, legacy, memory and to ensure that he never goes away forever let us all do the same. He gave all of us the tools. He gave all of us the language. He gave all of himself with journalistic diligence, glorious artistry and with the utmost humanity.

It's all up to us now.

SAVAGE CINEMA'S COMING ATTRACTIONS FOR APRIL 2013

I think that not having a plan for the month worked so very well for me last month that perhaps I will try the same approach for this month.

As with March, April also tends to be a slow month for new releases so this would be a good time for me to keep looking at the small pile of films I have patiently awaiting my full attention. And who knows, some of those movies just may be much better than what will be hitting the multiplexes...just like last month. But, there are a few notable films which just may arrive in my town over the next 30 days including...

1. "Trance," the latest film from Director Danny Boyle, who is following up his cinematic one-two punch of "Slumdog Millionaire" (2008) and "127 Hours" (2010), as well as that little event known as the London Olympics last summer, with this crime thriller.

2. Apparently, "To The Wonder," Writer/Director Terence Malick's follow up to the majestic "The Tree Of Life" (2011) is set for release this month as well.  If this is certain, I will definitely be there without question.

3. What will definitely see a full and wide theatrical release this month is the apocalyptic science fiction action thriller "Oblivion" starring Tom Cruise and I have to admit while the somewhat derivative looking trailers have made me pause, I do believe that I will be heading out for this one as well.

From here, I think anything goes and I do have to admit, slowing down for a spell does hold its advantages, especially as the Summer Movie Season looms.

Until the next posting, I'll see you when the house lights go down...

THE BEST FUNERAL EVER: a review of "Shut Up And Play The Hits"

"SHUT UP AND PLAY THE HITS"

Directed by Dylan Southern and Will Lovelace

***1/2 (three and a half stars)

Dear readers, I am about to pose a hypothetical question to all of you that I would wish for you to think about seriously. Regardless of your individual station in life, especially in regards to your personal finances, would you completely walk away from your chosen occupation if you could? And beyond that, what would you do when it was all over?

That very concept forms the heart and soul of Directors Dylan Southern and Will Lovelace's simultaneously dazzling and intensely pensive documentary, "Shut Up And Play The Hits," a film which chronicles 48 hours in the life of musician James Murphy, creator and leader of LCD Soundsystem, as he prepares for and experiences the initial post-show afterglow and/or emotional fallout of his band's final performance at Madison Square Garden on April 2, 2011, the epic swan song before he retires the unit completely. The non-linear film showcases not only the euphoric concert sequences but also the sharp contrast of the quietness afterwards as well as interview sequences between Murphy and pop culture writer Chuck Klosterman. 

As with Dave Grohl's outstanding "Sound City," Southern and Lovelace also ensure that their film exists as much more than a document of a band's final concert performance. Through the somewhat inscrutable figure of James Murphy himself, we are given a window into the progress and pains of reaching middle age and therefore, we are given a mirror into ourselves as we all age. After a glowingly well received showing at the Sundance Film Festival in January 2012 as well as an exclusive nationwide one night only theatrical screening during the summer of 2012, "Shut Up And Play The Hits" is now available for you to see on DVD and Blu-Ray formats in a gorgeously presented 3 disc collection which contains the film, a nice amount of bonus featurettes and most wondrously, the entire three and a half hour concert itself.  Southern and Lovelace have delivered a film that is bound to make you jump out of our seats while simultaneously becoming an experience that is emotionally resonant. Seek it out and play it loudly!

Truth be told, my relationship with LCD Soundsystem is fair at best. While they are a band that I have enjoyed every time I have heard them and I do even possess two of their three albums, they don't tend to end up as frequent musical choices to listen to, and not for any particular reasons either. That said, they have intrigued me greatly and when James Murphy did announce his band's demise, shortly before the release of "This Is Happening," the band's 2010 and final album, my curiosity was piqued tremendously. I was extremely curious as to why Murphy would want to end something that had become so extremely successful within the indie rock world and was also just on the brink of breaking through into the mainstream. I mean--why stop now? The album hadn't been released yet. There was no tour at that time. And yet, Murphy seemed to be adamant that for LCD Soundsystem, this was to be a most finite existence. With "Shut Up And Play The Hits," Southern and Lovelace try to shed some light on the subject and the results proved to be provocative and multi-layered.

As a concert film, "Shut Up And Play The Hits" feels like a hybrid between Director Jonathan Demme's classic "Stop Making Sense" (1984) starring Talking Heads and certainly Director Martin Scorsese's extraordinary "The Last Waltz" (1978), the concert film which chronicled the final performance of The Band on Thanksgiving night 1976. In fact, this film could have also been titled, "The Last Rave"! Even so, Southern and Lovelace follow the template of both films by not giving the audience any sense of history of the band in question. For fans of the respective musical units, you are more than ready, for novices, you finally get to see what the fuss was all about just as everything is about to conclude permanently.  

While Grohl utilized "Sound City" to question the existence of the crucial human element in 21st century music (and society at large), "Shut Up And Play The Hits" goes a long way to show that this essential element has not been forever lost. While the LCD Soundsystem albums are largely written, produced and recorded by James Murphy on his own, and they have been classified as electronic dance rock, sonically those albums do possess a certain handmade quality as the merging of punk rock, soul, electronica and even disco music proudly displays its influences of David Bowie, the poly-rhythms of mid period Talking Heads and the nasty, raw, almost home demo funk of "Dirty Mind"/"Controversy" era Prince. Yet Murphy's artistic vision is never derivative and feels intensely singular and personal. The film's concert sequences are sharply and crisply photographed and presented and on stage, the camaraderie between Murphy and his chief co-conspirators, Nancy Whang (keyboards, synthesizers, percussion), Pat Mahoney (drums, percussion, electronic percussion) and Tyler Pope (guitars, bass guitar, keyboards, synthesizers  percussion) is palpable in its obvious affection. Furthermore, and for this climactic event, the band has swelled to include an arsenal of additional musicians including a horn section and vocal choir and Murphy, clad in a somewhat ill fitting tux, stands center stage, orchestrating the event serves as the conductor. 

From the opening selection "Dance Yrself Clean," to the soulful "45:33 (Shame On You)," to rave ups like "Yeah," "North American Scum," and "All My Friends," Southern, Lovelace and LCD Soundsystem practically dare you to stay seated as the rhythms are executed explosively therefore giving the filmmakers ample opportunities to present the deep relationship the band has with its audience, making a concert feel like a mass communion leading to a sense of rapture which is indeed captured during the film's climactic song, "New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down." On that track, I heard echoes of nothing less than David Bowie's "Rock And Roll Suicide," itself the final track from Bowie's classic album "The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars" (1972), a song which details the demise of that album's titular character. More than a fitting selection and comparison to say the least.

But with the musical comparisons, the film as a whole is made of of sharp juxtapositions. The mass cacophony of joyous communion are inter-cut with scenes of solitude of striking silence. We witness the day after the performance with scenes of Murphy, and his French bulldog alone in his New York apartment with his wall of vinyl and novels. Audio segments of Murphy's conversations with Klosterman are placed over lonely imagery of Murphy riding alone in a cab.  Another audio interview snippet of Murphy and Klosterman discussing the nature of pretentiousness is laid over imagery of the most mundane act of Murphy shaving his face. LCD Soundsystem's wild performance cover of Harry Nilsson's apocalyptic sounding "Jump Into The Fire" is presented with scenes of post concert revelry. 

And what I loved within the film most are the wealth of stolen moments Southern and Lovelace have captured and have chosen to present in surprising ways. The sight of Murphy spontaneously breaking into tears on stage after singing "Someone Great" and the look of empathy shot his way by Whang was striking to me. Then, there are scenes after the show, where Murphy putters around his apartment and New York in his clothes from the night before, as he tours the band's office space and quietly breaks down in sobs while exploring a warehouse of the band's instruments, never to be played again. 

The music of LCD Soundsystem is as intimate and introspective as the film's interview segments and then the music itself plays out upon the grand scale of a marathon farewell arena concert.  The songs themselves present Murphy's anxious and self-perceived sense of futility and failure with feeling that he will never be able to achieve the artistic heights of his musical heroes. Yet, conversely, he is certainly perceptive and astute enough to realize that maybe his music has inspired his musical peers as well as the kids that make up his audience. With all of those elements, Southern and Lovelace have given to me that same sense of symbiotic symmetry that tends to capture me, dear readers. While this film is not a cultural commentary as "Sound City" became, "Shut Up And Play The Hits" is indeed more of a character study of James Murphy and therefore of all of us in the audience as well. 

James Murphy struck me as being a candid and yet confounding individual. He seems to be arrogant yet reserved. Loquacious yet sharp enough to not reveal absolutely everything. He seems to be uniquely or obsessively in tune with his sense of musical relevance and overall self-consciousness and self-perception. He can shoulder an irritatingly ironic, excessively self-aware hipster status while also existing as a heart on sleeve romantic. And with all of those qualities, I guess that you can say that James Murphy mirrors each and every one of us who chooses to watch this film because can any of us ever be described with just one adjective? In regards to his role as a musician, Murphy speaks of his inspirations and how the sense of perception strongly feeds into the love one has towards an artist. How to him, David Bowie seemed as if he was not even of this Earth or even human while also realizing that Bowie puts his pants on one leg at a time and buys milk at the store just like anyone else.  

With that, Southern and Lovelace, also pull back the curtain with their fly on the wall cameras to show Murphy as just a man and not as a musical deity that some may perceive him to be, especially from the awed faces we see in the Madison Square Garden audience, most notably the tear stained teenager, whose face marks the film's final image. Even a specific moment during the concert is telling as well. Near the end of the show, he thanks the audience for attending and then makes the point of ensuring them that his gratitude is not presented through a veil of irony but is indeed authentic. It struck me that this man is so self-conscious about his own sense of authenticity that he ends up being somewhat inauthentic yet you also understand that is not the impression he wishes to deliver to his fans whatsoever. 

The purity of James Murphy can be seen the most in the emotional landscape he travels through as he goes through the process of saying goodbye. Yes, we have the on stage displays of emotion but again, Southern and Lovelace capture those stolen moments. For instance, before the show, Murphy is scurrying around backstage with a box of commemorative bracelets he is delivering to everyone, wishing that he is not forgetting anybody. After the concert on the following day and while on the phone with a friend, he remarks that he has not as of yet gotten in touch with two band members and he wanted to get to them before they "disappeared." This comment also struck me because on stage this collective of people clearly seemed to be enjoying each other and they are often filled with embraces for one another, but Southern and Lovelace also implode the nature of what a band can actually be. I mean--are these people friends at all? I guess this notion reminded me a bit of being in college where friendships, sometimes of serious intensity, would be formed in a class or with people through a semester and then the following semester or school year, those people would never be seen again. Such is life.

And this is where "Shut Up And Play The Hits" strikes its deepest chords as it is indeed an exploration of middle age and even mortality. At the time of the filming and concert, Murphy has arrived at the age of 41, life's midpoint, a time for taking stock of your accomplishments and failures and wondering how to move forwards while constantly looking backwards. the film's non-linear structure accomplished this very feat of  

moving forwards and backwards so effectively that there was even a point during the film in which I forgot when the interview segments between Murphy and Klosterman had taken place--before or after the concert. Here is where Southern and Lovelace's film reminded me greatly of Scorsese's "George Harrison: Living In The Material World" (2011), where the past, present and future co-exist, sometimes harmoniously, sometimes with dissonance, and converging in an everlasting NOW. 

With that, "Shut Up And Play The Hits" builds, grows, deepens, sustains and envelops into a loud yet graceful explorations of beginnings and endings-the ultimate juxtaposition set to a ferociously danceable beat. During this period in the movie year of 2013 where selections are scant, I would urge you to seek this film out for you may be as surprised as I was with how profoundly you may be moved just as you are jumping, sweating and dancing in blissful elation. 

HIGH FIDELITY, SUPERIOR QUALITY: a review of "Sound City"

"SOUND CITY"

Story by Dave Grohl

Screenplay Written by Mark Monroe

Directed by Dave Grohl

**** (four stars)

"Music really isn't supposed to be perfect. It's all about people relating to each other and doing something that's really from the soul. It must come from the soul."

-Tom Petty

In my daily travels throughout my city of Madison, Wisconsin, I consistently drive immediately past the legendary Smart Studios, a recording facility where among many other musicians and bands, The Smashing Pumpkins recorded their 1991 debut album "Gish." It is the same studio where Nirvana recorded a track for their 1991 landmark "Nevermind" album. It is also the same studio that was originated and co-owned by musicians Butch Vig and Steve Marker, who are members of the band Garbage, and Smart was the location where that band recorded their first four albums. 

It is a building that you would easily drive by and not ever give it a second look if you had absolutely no idea of what it was as it holds a completely nondescript appearance as just another ordinary two story red brick building housed on a corner of East Washington Avenue, one of the city's major thoroughfares. I never had the opportunity to ever venture inside of Smart Studios but from some friends and acquaintances that did have the opportunity, I have been told that while it possessed a near forgettable visual quality on the outside, the inside contained a state of the art recording environment that for a spell carried a hefty cache within the music industry. Just a hair over one year ago, and despite its legend, Smart Studios closed its doors permanently primarily due to a sea change within the music industry where bands from major labels became less prevalent and more independent artists discovered that studio quality recordings could be achieved through I-pad technology, therefore making traditional recording studios increasingly financially unstable and eventually, irrelevant. 

Even though Smart Studios is now defunct, I cannot help but to wonder endlessly about what went on behind those doors and soundboards as musicians, producers and engineers had the blessed opportunity to chase their respective artistic muses, weave musical soundscapes in collaboration with each other and for our entertainment and hopeful inspiration. Additionally, I do have to also wonder about what has been lost as I really believe that Smart's demise is not solely about the loss of some brick and mortar building. Smart Studios began its existence in 1983 and for it to have lasted as long as it did, some sense of human alchemy just had to have been in place and can that same sense of alchemy survive or exist at all in a period that has found society to be more decidedly insulated and even withdrawn from each other? 

Those very questions, musings and so much more are firmly and beautifully placed at the heart of "Sound City," an exhilarating, supremely accomplished documentary and filmmaking debut from musician Dave Grohl, singer, songwriter, guitarist, drummer, former member of Nirvana and current leader of Foo Fighters. Like the very best music music based documentaries that I have seen over the past couple of years like Director Michael Rapaport's "Beats, Rhymes And Life: The Travels Of A Tribe Called Quest" (2010) and Director Cameron Crowe's "Pearl Jam Twenty" (2011) and "The Union" (2011), Grohl has gloriously made his film not only serve the musical muse, musician and fan but he also transcends the primary subject matter to make him film exist about something as vast as our decreasing sense of humanity in the 21st century and advancing technological age. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times "Sound City" elicited chills within me as so many cherished musicians and their works made their respective presence known so compellingly throughout the film. But that said, I urge you to also understand that "Sound City" is not a film that is solely designed for the music fanatic like myself. Grohl has achieved something much more universal therefore making his film something that I feel absolutely any viewer could relate to. In this very early stage in the cinematic year of 2013, "Sound City" announces its arrival with the confidence, integrity, craftsmanship, grit and artistry of the finest albums and films we all cherish. This is a film that SHOULD NOT be missed. 

Truth be told, I have to admit that like most of you and despite my musical fanaticism, I have actually never heard of the Sound City recording studio, a funky hole in the wall complete with beer stained carpets, walls covered with brown shag and a perpetually flooded parking lot, housed deep within the San Fernando Valley. But, as this review forges ahead, and as Grohl's film illustrates, I would not be at all surprised to discover that much of your most favorite music was once recorded there. 

Founded in 1969 by business partners Tom Skeeter (who is interviewed extensively in the film) and the late Joe Gottfried, Sound City was a once fledgling studio struggling to gain a foothold within the music industry yet somehow, musicians seemed to always find their way to this location. Neil Young (who is also interviewed within the film) recorded part of his classic "After The Gold Rush" album at Sound City for instance. But the stars began to align themselves when recording engineer and future record producer Keith Olsen made the wise and fateful decision to purchase the state of the art Neve 8078 Console, a handmade, hand wired analog mixing deck long considered to be the "Rolls Royce" of mixing consoles. From this risky move, especially from a studio that really was not that financially stable to take such risks, rewards were soon to be reaped tenfold. 

From these beginnings, Grohl essentially arranges "Sound City" into three distinct sections. The first spans the studio's heyday throughout the 1970s, starting with the very first musicians to ever record on the Neve,  Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. While their 1973 debut album "Buckingham Nicks" did not race up the charts as Skeeter and Gottfried had hoped, the beauty and purity of the recordings did attract the attention of Fleetwood Mac drummer/founder Mick Fleetwood who was, at that time, just looking for a new studio to record in. This equally fateful event not only brought Buckingham and Nicks into Fleetwood Mac, the band eventually recorded their seismically successful albums "Fleetwood Mac" (1975) and "Rumours" (1977) at Sound City, bringing much needed notoriety and new clients like Santana, The Grateful Dead, Foreigner, Cheap Trick and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers through the studio doors. 

The film's second section details the studio's fall during the 1980s as recording technology became more advanced while recording artists became more homogenized and artificial sounding, especially through the drums which Vig describes as "canon shots." The studio's rebirth in the 1990s coincides with Grohl's personal journey as the then 22 year old drummer for Nirvana spent 16 life changing days at Sound City recording "Nevermind." The massive success of that album brought a new musical gold rush to the studio as more authentic artists like Rage Against The Machine, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Nine Inch Nails, Queens Of The Stone Age and the late Johnny Cash and others found their way through Sound City's doors, furthering their respective musical legacies. Unfortunately by 2011, and unable to keep up with the changing technological tenor of the times, Sound City was forced to close its doors for good. 

The third and euphoric final section of "Sound City" ties all of the themes together wondrously in song, musical camaraderie, joyous celebration and even redemption as the film depicts a series of new recording sessions at Dave Grohl's personal studio and featuring the Neve console, which Grohl purchased after the studio's demise.  

Dear readers, with no sense of hyperbole and yet with every stitch of enthusiasm I can muster, Dave Grohl's "Sound City" is an unabashed triumph. By the time the film concluded, I wanted to somehow track down Grohl to shake his hand and if he let me, I would have hugged the man for his film moves me so. Additionally, I would have wanted to shake him by the collar and tell him to please stop presenting himself with this "aw shucks" demeanor which serves to downplay his immense talents because as far as I am concerned, any veteran filmmaker or documentarian would be absolutely proud to have made what Grohl has masterfully achieved. This film is indeed Grohl's passion project as he not only provides the viewer with a celebratory history of a legendary recording studio with a collection of intimate, personal stories but he also weaves in a cultural commentary that is equally passionate, provocative, and universal.

In addition to the gorgeously filmed recording sessions, Grohl's deep connections within the music industry have afforded him terrific interview subjects like Young, Petty, Buckingham, Nicks, Fleetwood, Trent Reznor, Frank Black, Rick Springfield and Grohl himself. But this is actually not a film about rock stars pontificating about their legendary pasts and presents from on high. Those interviews are merged effortlessly with equally insightful and loquacious subjects from Sound City's engineers, producers, studio managers and even former receptionists. After some time while watching, I realized that this film was very reminiscent of Director Michel Gondry's outstanding "Dave Chappelle's Block Party" (2005), a film that so movingly showcased how artists, fans and neighborhood residents were all on equal footing and each performed their respective parts to create a magical whole and experience. By having this large variety of interview subjects all waxing lovingly about the rare (for the music industry) familial quality that greeted every performer who walked through the Sound City doors, Grohl is able to suggest strongly that our favorite albums did not just spring into existence from the artists' brain into the world all by themselves. Everything is due to the collaborative efforts between absolutely everyone involved at Sound City. And maybe, Grohl further suggests through the film, that the warmth and humanity that permeated Sound City can be heard throughout the groves and tapes of each and every album that was recorded behind its doors, an element that has made their longevity so crucial and perhaps, even possible at all.

"Sound City" is also a film about the necessity of determination, diligence and discipline, especially now as we all live in an increasingly instant gratification society. In regards to the creation of music, now that Auto Tune and Pro Tools can seemingly make anyone, regardless of any discernible talent an overnight mega star, all of the film's attention to the Neve console and the film's final recording sequences are deeply enlightening and should also be required viewing for any musician, established or not. As Producer Jim Scott explains in the film, the analog recording technology of the Neve console gives the artist "no frills, no effects and no place to hide." Benmont Tench, keyboardist for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, describes how the studio itself was a "tough room" and how the band practiced the now classic track "Refugee" over 100 times before recording a final version. Yet, this musical obsessiveness was not at the pursuit of perfection. This serious attention to performance was due to the pursuit of discovering a musical truth. The pursuit of getting it right.

Grohl illustrates consistently throughout the film that "getting it right" and perfection are absolutely not the same thing. In fact, "getting it right" is not about perfection at all. It is completely about a collective of people all searching to discover the ever elusive "feel"--the purity and soul of the piece, the very thing that we all respond to when we hear music that touches us for life. I believe that music is an eternal and even spiritual conversation between all parties involved, from those who create to those who listen and respond. This particular back and forth dialogue is one of the greatest forms of symbiotic relationships in the world to me and this theme of inter-connectivity, a cherished one upon this site, is one that I respond to greatly. Just think about the music that you love the very most. For me, I cannot help but to wonder how and why some song that I have heard literally thousands of times can still remain fresh, new and as soul stirring as the very first time but there are songs created today, through homogeneous and overly synthetic writing and production techniques, that I cannot stand to listen through even once. While I am always on the lookout for new artists to latch onto, I have found that as I have gotten older, my tastes have continued to run backwards in time as there is just something in the songs, writings and recordings of the past that just sound more pure to my ears. And I would suppose that the answer to my questions is actually a very simple one: It's the people.

As I have stated, "Sound City" is not strictly tied to the recording studio and industry. It is about our society at large. Nearly two years ago, I wrote a two-part posting mourning the loss of a beloved video rental store called Bongo Video. Since the closing of that store's doors, there are only a tiny handful of brick and mortar video renting establishments remaining in my city as most people are now on-line with Netflix. Bookstores have also fallen rapidly as have record stores (like my cherished B-Side Records), of which only a few remain in Madison. The state of commercial radio is more than depressing. And as I venture into coffee houses these days, I am also struck with how the tenor of those establishments have changed over time. The sound of hearty chatter has elapsed into an unusual and somewhat sad silence as patrons are locked away into their laptops and headphones, not speaking openly to anyone at all. Now I have nothing at all against the various technological advances, especially as I partake in them myself to a degree. But when the advancements are forced to not co-exist with the tenors of the past and are seemingly at the expense of our collective humanity, that's when I have problems with where we are headed as a society. Dave Grohl's "Sound City" is sharply in tune with those sentiments and throughout the film, I really think that you will all be struck with how emotionally involved you may become with the sights and sounds of people working together. 

The film's reunion recording sequences are entertaining and powerful. Just see and listen to how the career of Stevie Nicks arrives at full circle as it is a culmination of her life's work while also showing her purpose with continuing to be a musician and performer. Rick Springfield's section provides a power-pop blast while also existing as a source of deeply moving atonement. And Grohl, ever the showman, saves the best for last as none other than Paul McCartney arrives to record a roaring song called "Cut Me Some Slack" with Grohl, Vig and former Nirvana bandmates bassist Krist Novoselic and guitarist Pat Smear. It was truly a sensational climax as it showed how the joy of performing and collaboration remains a privilege not lost upon someone of McCartney's status and legend. He never elicits a jaded moment for even a second. You can see the band practice, discuss, change, lead, listen and follow each other into making something that simply rocks. And the sequence also shows Grohl himself as a prominent musical force while simultaneously existing as the world's greatest rock fan. 

"Sound City" is a true labor of love. It is a film that is marvelous, elegiac, and eternally hopeful. In Dave Grohl, we can see a stirring merging of boyhood fantasies realized, with hero worship, passionate torch carrying and the valiant upholding of always striving to maintain a human touch. He, the film and all of us are analog souls in a digital world and may none of us ever lose our collective groove. 

SAVAGE POSTSCRIPT:

So, where can you see "Sound City"? After having its premiere to enthusiastic critical and audience response at the Sundance Film Festival in January, the movie has had a few exclusive theatrical showings. But now, it is available on DVD and Blu-Ray formats and you may also stream or HD download the film from the movie's official website.

And as with the very best music films...PLAY LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!