Showing posts with label Shine A Light. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shine A Light. Show all posts

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Shine A Light -- Review

Martin Scorsese’s Rolling Stones IMAX extravaganza, Shine A Light, opened on April 4th, and I was lucky enough to be one of the 1000 or so people in LA crammed into the only two theaters in town playing the film. As expected, I enjoyed it. Also as expected, the audience was full of douchebags--but that’s a story for another time.

Despite the band’s desire to be immortalized at one of their typical stadium shows, luckily Marty was able to convince them to add two performances to their A Bigger Bang tour in a smaller, more intimate venue--New York City’s historic, 2800-seat Beacon Theater.

The theater was a beautiful backdrop--well-aided by the set designed and built by Marty’s crew--although it certainly could have been filled with a livelier, less-handpicked, less-moneyed, more-representative audience. Let’s see...the front row just happened to contain only upper-class females aged 21-30? Are you kidding? Did you think we wouldn’t notice, Marty? The LA Times referred to these ladies as “a cluster of hedge-fund hotties front and center.” Truth. The men in the crowd, standing back a bit, giving the ladies their space, lest they be tasered by Scorsese’s militant PAs, were all chubby banker-types holding aloft cell phone cameras all night long.

Why watch a once-in-a-lifetime concert when you can get low-grade video of it on your phone?! It’s not like Scorsese’s shooting it in IMAX or anything...

Speaking of cinematography, it was lush and intimate, as you would imagine, albeit too reliant on extreme close-ups of Jagger’s oh-so-British 64-year-old teeth, and too afraid to linger on wide shots and two-shots. My favorite shots in the film were the two-shots of Mick and Keith and the wide shots of the band, and they were far too brief and far too few. I also would have liked to have seen more of drummer Charlie Watts pounding away, and some longer close-ups of the guitar fingering during the instrumental portions.

Shots of the audience should have scrapped entirely, in this case, as they were distracting and immediately deflated the energy of the performance, due to the energy/quality of the crowd. Had Scorsese/Jagger decided to pack the place with a Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus sort of crowd, then I would definitely have wanted to see them; however, it was not, and so I didn’t--my imagination would have served me far better than reality, in this instance.

The sound was killer and the set-list was great; I can actually imagine myself buying the soundtrack, which I’ve only done twice in my life--Dumb and Dumber, when I was 16 with money to burn, and Storytelling, because it was essentially a Belle and Sebastian album. There is no way Mick could have chosen a set-list that would have made everybody happy, as the Stones catalog is simply too vast; this being the case, I thought he was successful in his approach to give the crowd some of the hits, some of the lesser-known stuff, and a few well-chosen covers.

I loved Jack White’s duet with Mick. I don’t think there is a musician alive today that would have been a better choice to play with the Stones, as Jack is the heart-and-soul of blues-influenced rock and roll.

Blues legend Buddy Guy was also great to see up there and it was a treat to watch him, Keith Richards, and Ronnie Wood jam together, but I was shocked they didn’t let him have a solo--Buddy can play the guitar better with his teeth than 90% of working guitarists out there can do with their hands.

Christina Aguilera was woefully out of place on stage with the Stones during her number--girl’s got pipes, for sure, but I don’t care. I don’t want to see her out there with the Stones, just like my jaw would drop if Celine Dion or Mariah Carey had strutted out; she has nothing to do with either the blues or rock and roll. The worst part? She got a solo. Ouch. And, just to rub it in, Mick grooved all up on her, but didn’t lay a finger on Jack or Buddy--come now, Micky-baby, play fair!

Despite their advanced age and scarily-skeletal faces, the band performed well and, with the glaring exception of silver-haired, mild-mannered bookstore manager Charlie Watts, still managed to look the part of rock stars. Mick was skinny as ever, somehow still possessed the energy of a teenage coke-head, and even though he brought in two back-up singers to hit the high notes for him, I thought his voice held up well. I must admit, though, I was sometimes reminded of scary, nearly-as-old, gravelly-voiced New York Dolls frontman David Johansen, who counts Jagger among his early influences. I’d like to see the two do a number together someday. Any takers out their in promoter-ville?

Keith was as charming as ever, loving every second of it as if it was the first time, and hitting his guitar licks like clockwork, more because his heart beats in time with the blues than his brain remembers the notes (I can’t say the same for his vocals, although they were charmingly off-key, off-beat).

Charlie Watts was firmly in the background of the film, represented mostly by the hilarious footage of his younger self and his ‘oh boy, I’m an old man trying to do a teenager’s job’ weary-eyed looks to the camera in the present day.

I thought the footage of the Stones from the early years was brilliantly used to break up the would-be monotony of the concert, as well as to put their enduring success in perspective. Mick, Keith, and Charlie--the only three members left from the early days (Ronnie Wood joined in 1974, after founding-guitarist Brian Jones was fired and then his replacement Mick Taylor left the band; bassist Bill Wyman left the band in 1993)--all came across as innocent, charming, honest, funny, and wise. Contrasting their younger faces, words, and deeds with their current performance, it was not hard to see why/how they have endured--they have always done it for the love of the music, and they have always wanted to do it until they can’t do it anymore.

Although I did like the idea of warming up the audience with some pre-concert action, I wish Marty would not have felt the need to thrust himself into the picture with a long, drawn-out, ultimately pointless opening about how hard it is to shoot a concert video. Why make excuses before you even begin? Did he feel the need to start Raging Bull with a five-minute sequence on how hard it was to shoot the movie, in case nobody liked it? (The answer is ‘no,’ although who knows, maybe his producer nixed the idea--“too expensive!”).

I would rather have just watched the band’s arrival, heard some interesting snippets of pre-show dialogue, and then seen part of the sound-check. Watching Marty whine repeatedly about not having the set-list, and then finally receiving it in an obviously-staged moment immediately before the lights went up, was embarrassingly bad--it was something Bruce Filanch would have done before a Billy Crystal-hosted Oscars ceremony, not a bit that should go in a Scorsese film. Especially because Marty shot this concert TWICE, and could easily rub out any kinks the second time around (indeed, most of the footage is from the second performance). I cringed for him--Marty wants so much to be loved, but sometimes he doth try too hard.

The most aggravating Marty moment, however, came at the very end, when the audience watches him directing a camera movement, instead of seeing Mick Jagger & Co.’s explosive exit into the Manhattan night. WTF, Marty? Do you think people forget what you look like or something? Why are you trying, in your later years, to so desperately ‘get yourself out there?’ Just keep being you, keep making great movies, and we will love you. Don’t suddenly try to imitate cameo-master Alfred Hitchcock or self-promote a la Brett Ratner.

We love Marty for being Marty, just like we will always love the Stones for being the Stones--the best rock and roll band in the world. Still.

Goodtime Charlie gives Shine A Light a B+, his highest grade of the year so far. Go see it!


To read about Goodtime Charlie’s experience at a Rolling Stones concert in 2005, click here.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Yet Another Reason to Kill Yourself at the Multiplex Next Weekend


George Clooney's Leatherheads is set to release on Friday, April 4th. It's a period piece about the birth of the NFL, but also a screwball comedy with romance! Something for everyone! All dollars accepted, thank you very much! Clooney directed the film and plays the lead role--a hunky, aging football player with a fearsome grimace on the field and a familiar Cheshire grin while wooing the young ladies post-game. I know--it's a stretch, but I think he can pull it off. Remember--not only do they edit the images to make people look better at the game they are pretending to play, but they also use stunt doubles, AND--the coup d'gras--every actor has to follow a script approved by Mr. Clooney! So he always wins! Or loses humbly and handsomely and gets the girl anyway. What a life...

The poster alone--ubiquitous in L.A.--makes me want to punch the movie in its face (what a cute dog! OMG!). Since this is impossible, I will instead hit this faceless entity where it really hurts: I will give it bad PR to at least ten people!

For a fascinating history of the Leatherheads movie--the script, written by Sports Illustrated writers, sold in 1991 and has been 'in the works' for the last 17 years, with Steven Soderbergh attached to direct it TWICE, and Mel Gibson initially tapped to play the Clooney role--then click HERE. And I suggest you do, especially if you hunger for insight into the 'process' of making shitty movies in Hollywood.

The $50 million-dollar(?)--plus $50mil(?) marketing--juggernaut was pushed back from its initial December launch due to 'George Clooney's busy schedule.' I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that the movie is a piece of shit. Why release a piece of shit when good/big movies are out, in December? Why compete with pre/post-Oscar extended releases of big movies in Jan/Feb, especially if you're in one of them (Michael Clayton)? Any idiot knows you should release a bad movie in the spring, although preferably not during the first three weeks that a big animated movie (Horton Hears a Who?) is in theaters!

December, 2007 releases included: Atonement, Juno, I Am Legend, Charlie Wilson's War, National Treasure, Sweeney Todd, Walk Hard, Bucket List, and There Will Be Blood.

Alternatively, here are the current Spring 2008 releases, with commentary, for your consideration:

March 7
10,000 BC--didn't even make $10,000 profit!

The Bank Job
--who is Jason Statham's audience? Who cares about heist movies anymore? They're all the same! Let me guess--they get a bunch of money/jewels/gold/information, but then something happens, somebody gets squeezed, loyalties are tested, a villain chases them down, our hero gets away, with or without the treasure--and along the way, sexy women with tits are involved for various reasons.

College Road Trip
--Martin Lawrence stinker, with annoying grown-up Cosby kid who thinks we like her.

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day--
this one is so stupid, it deserves to fend for itself:
"In 1939 London, Miss Guinevere Pettigrew (played by Ms. McDormand) is a middle-aged governess who finds herself once again unfairly dismissed from her job. Without so much as severance pay, Miss Pettigrew realizes that she must for the first time in two decades seize the day. This she does, by intercepting an employment assignment outside of her comfort level as social secretary. Arriving at a penthouse apartment for the interview, Miss Pettigrew is catapulted into the glamorous world and dizzying social whirl of an American actress and singer, Delysia Lafosse (Ms. Adams). Within minutes, Miss Pettigrew finds herself swept into a heady high-society milieu and, within hours, living it up. Taking the social secretary designation to heart, she tries to help her new friend Delysia navigate a love life and career, both of which are complicated by the three men in Delysias orbit; devoted pianist Michael (Mr. Pace), intimidating nightclub owner Nick (Mr. Strong), and impressionable junior impresario Phil (Mr. Payne). Miss Pettigrew herself is blushingly drawn to the gallant Joe (Mr. Hinds), a successful designer who is tenuously engaged to haughty fashion maven Edythe (Ms. Henderson) the one person who senses that the new social secretary may be out of her element, and schemes to undermine her. Over the next 24 hours, Guinevere and Delysia will empower each other to discover their romantic destinies."
Married Life--hackneyed step-grandchild of Divorce, Italian Style and Crimes & Misdemeanors with four actors who don't belong in a movie together (Pierce Brosnan, Patricia Clarkson, Rachel McAdams, and recent whore Chris Cooper). Remember The Holiday?

March 14
Doomsday--Does this plot synopsis not sound like Children of Men/21 Days/3 Kings, but worse?
"A lethal virus spreads throughout the British isles,infecting millions and killing hundreds of thousands. To contain the threat, acting authorities brutally quarantine the country as it succumbs to fear and chaos. The quarantine is successful. Three decades later, the Reaper virus violently resurfaces in a major city. An elite group of specialists, including Eden Sinclair, is urgently dispatched into the still-quarantined country to retrieve a cure by any means necessary. Shut off from the rest of the world, the unit must battle through a landscape that has become a waking nightmare."
Horton Hears A Who--It's animated, so it'll make at least $100million, but that doesn't mean it's good. In fact, the only thing good I can say about it is that at least Mike Myers wasn't in this one. This movie will fade just in time for Clooney to sweep in and get all those horny old ugly moms back in the theater again.

Never Back Down
--Karate Kid meets Fight Club, but in a high school, and involving mixed martial arts. Looks like Daniel-san has gotten hotter and finally watched Ultimate Fighting Championship. Hits the coveted 'dumb, testosterone-soaked young male' demographic, the rare pack of gutsy, super-horny tweens who will see anything involving abs, and nobody else.

Funny Games--a glaring exception, although I did not love it. It's at least worth seeing; nobody will see it.

March 21
Drillbit Taylor--Owen Wilson didn't refuse to do the press tour due to his still-frail psyche; he refused to do it because this movie clearly SUCKS and he'd like to forget he was ever associated with it, much less gracing 100-ft tall billboards in L.A, in character. So he told the executive producers to suck it, and they did.

Meet the Browns--King of the box office Tyler Perry strikes again, with yet another movie only black people will see; but not just any black people--only those black people who will go to the movies to see anything starring other black people, regardless of quality.

Snow Angels--Can't stand David Gordon Green; and neither can 99.9% of the country. For once, we agree!

Shutter--Stupid horror movie. Doesn't need to be good; will make money in first few weeks because people go to see horror movies even when they will clearly suck.

The Grand--Improvisational comedy centered on people playing poker--starring Shannon Elizabeth, Woody Harrelson, and Werner Herzog. Ugh. I feel bad that David Cross and Cheryl Hines felt the need to be a$$ociated with this bad idea...

The Hammer--Adam Carolla as a boxer? Even as a joke, it's an awful one. Who cares about this guy? Who can listen to his voice without wanting to puncture their ear drums with a fire-hot dagger?

March 28
21--A great book, based on a fascinating, supposedly-true story, that I just know will be an awful movie. Why? Because that's what Hollywood does! There's too much money at stake not to turn a unique story into an exact replica of some other movie the 60 year-old producer saw part of once--but with more tits.

Run, Fatboy, Run--I don't understand people's fascination with Simon Pegg. Shaun of the Dead was awfully unfunny. So was Hot Fuzz. I wish Michael Ian Black wasn't involved with this (story+cowriter), but I guess he needs some dough, and you don't get that for writing good stuff. Best factoid about this movie? David Schwimmer directed this surefire piece of bunk.

Stop Loss--Much like Syriana, from what I hear, this movie blunders through a great issue without saying anything concrete, without making much sense, and always shoots for style points and fails. Essentially, it's half-ass; but, OMG, whatever, it's got Ryan Philippe in it! And he looks so hot in the poster! What a fucking tween-female-targeted poster, totally out of sync with the subject matter/style of the movie. Brilliant marketing...
[Question: Has 'tween' ever been used to refer to 'tweenage' boys? I feel like the term itself is feminine, but...maybe I'm wrong? Help!]

Superhero Movie--Can they stop making these movies? Can people stop going to them so they will stop making them? Even a short clip is like watching helplessly as somebody stabs me through the eye socket with a dull knife and twists until I can flawlessly recite the Gettysburg address. They. Are. Not. Funny. At. All. Nor do they have any point--a reference is not a joke! Go to joke school, for Criminy's sake!

Flawless
--So flawed. A caper that's no fun is not a caper. And Demi Moore cannot act, so why put her in a period piece? Even though she's old enough to remember the '60s, god bless her, that doesn't mean she can act! Can Michael Caine retire already? If you can here me, Mike, stop ruining your legacy!

April 4
Leatherheads!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah!!!

Nim's Island
--"A young girl inhabits an isolated island with her scientist father and communicates with a reclusive author of the novel she's reading." Through her imagination! And the author overcomes her agoraphobia, finds her on the deserted island, and helps locate her missing father! Abigail Breslin plays Nim; Jodie Foster plays Alexandre, the author; Gerard Butler plays Nim's father AND Jodie Foster's schizophrenic alter ego, Alex. Oh, Lord. Enough already with the Lord of the Rings/Harry Potter-fueled fantasy genre. Were Narnia and that awful DeNiro movie not enough? Not every idea is good! They cause studios to lose hundreds of millions of dollars and prevent them from releasing dozens of movies that are actually GOOD!

The Ruins--Well, it's been 2 weeks, so it's time for another horror movie, with the same poster as all the other ones. I think it's the same dude that makes them. If not, it's even more depressing. This one is about a group of sexy young people who stumble upon mysterious violence and some of them die, the girls get stripped and sweaty, and then it ends at some point and you wonder why you sat through it instead of just playing video games in your bedroom in your underwear for 91 minutes. Because you're a loser. Because you saw this movie.

Shine a Light--Another rare exception (that makes only 2 so far), in that I would like to see it and I imagine it will be good. Plus, it involves the Rolling Stones, so every dumbass, overpaid, McMansion/'luxury' condo-dwelling 35-55 year old man will either see it in the theater with his Texas-Hold-Em buddies or rent it later so he can watch on his 60" HDTV with surround sound, so this will make some money. But it won't ruin The Leatherheads coming-out party, that's for sure. Read: Leatherheads=Women, Shine A Light=Men. Women win. They will drag their men to see Leatherheads on 'date night,' and the guys won't mind because it involves football and George Clooney is a 'man's man,' if you believe the PR spin he pays people to make you believe, so this movie isn't gay like most of the other movies she wants to see. He will either see Shine A Light the next weekend, or decide to rent it later. Trust me--I can see the future.

Meet Bill--Aaron Eckhardt's American Beauty-but-funnier low-budget independent vehicle that doesn't seem to have been advertised yet, so it's highly unlikely this will be in many theaters, or will make any money. They've already changed the title to Bill. Why? Shit by any other name smells the same, First Look International.

My Blueberry Nights--I want to see this because it's a Wong Kar-wai movie, and I've been waiting a long time (almost a full year since its premiere at Cannes), but I don't think it will be super good. It's his first English-language movie, and it has Jude Law and Norah Jones in it. Even if it IS good, however, nobody will go to see this. How many people do you know who have even heard of In the Mood for Love? It's no Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, buddy, I mean--come on!


With all these other choices (above) at the multiplex next week--well, let's be honest, Leatherheads and Horton Hears a Who will be on 75% of the screens--who will be this movie's audience? Who loves George Clooney enough to go wherever he goes, as long as it doesn't require thinking too much (Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, Syriana, Good Night and Good Luck, Darfur)?

Well, as if expecting this question, Clooney touchingly premiered the movie in tiny Mayberry, Kentucky--where his father was born. Somehow tracking down a red carpet to stand on, outside the town's opera house, Clooney had a few well-tooled, humble words to say. He even memorized them!
"They really are family," Clooney said of his Kentucky fans. "If you're from a small town, you don't really ever shake that. It's the best support system and they're always the biggest critics, which is kind of the fun of it."
The townspeople lined up for the show, namely Ronnie and Ellen Compton, of Jenkins, KY, swooned--
"We were staying in Florence (Ky.) to go to the Creation Museum and thought we'd see if we could get lucky and get in," Ronnie Compton said.
(source of both quotes: The Courier-Journal)
And so there you have it--Clooney's fans clearly are all idiots who not only believe in Creationism, but also feel the need to visit a museum devoted to the odious myth. Here's to hoping they aren't too numerous next weekend.

Cheers!