I hate to link to the anti-vaccine Huffington Post, but my RSS feed directed me to an article on their “Cultura” page today, titled “Happy Mother’s Day: Our 35 Favorite Latina Celeb Moms”. It’s the usual slideshow-with-brief-introduction, and features the women you’d expect: Jessica Alba, Jennifer Lopez, Salma Hayek. One person in particular caught my attention: Penelope Cruz.
Why would I care more about Cruz than the other 35? Well, Alba is half-Mexican, Lopez is Puerto Rican, Hayek is Mexican-American, and there were even some “celebs” I didn’t realize were Latina (mostly because I don’t pay attention) made the list, such as Nicole Richie (half-Mexican) or Mariah Carey (part-Venezuelan). (I should note that I am using the HuffPost descriptions of these women.)
Penelope Cruz, though, is Spanish. And I have long had a minor obsession with my own heritage, and whether I “deserve” the label “Latino” (or “Hispanic), because I am half-Spanish. Culturally, I was raised a suburban white boy, and I didn’t even know I looked Spanish until my first visit to that country when I was already in my 30s. I get all of the advantages given to white males in the U.S. And when I think of Latino/Hispanic, I think of people from Central and South America, not people from the European country where they speak Spanish.
Yet I know that “Spanish-American” has started to turn up on forms over the past couple of decades, and that is an accurate description of me. Then there are census categories like “white hispanic”.
There’s no real reason why any of this would be of interest. But I spent the first 30 or so years of my life thinking of myself as a white guy with Spanish roots, then the next fifteen or so years thinking of myself as a Spanish-American. But only in more recent times have I considered the possibility that I am, also, a Latino.
“Daydream” has turned up more than once on Music Friday. It’s my favorite Robin Trower song, and in saying that, I realize that for most people, the next question is “Who is Robin Trower?” while for others it’s “Who still listens to Robin Trower?” Trower was the guitarist for Procol Harum in their heyday, and began his solo career in 1973. He was quite popular in the 70s … I attended one concert in 1975 that included Dave Mason, Peter Frampton, and Fleetwood Mac … Robin Trower was the headliner. His guitar playing was reminiscent of the Hendrix of “Little Wing”, but I always thought the comparisons were overdone. Trower is in his late-60s now, still playing … he’s all over YouTube.
“Daydream” was such a perfect number, I could listen to it multiple times in one sitting. Jim Dewar, the underrated blue-eyed soul singer from Trower’s band in the 70s, was always worth hearing, even when the lyrics weren’t much. Trower’s long, slow, drippy solo never fails to get to me, emotionally … two of my finest concert memories come from seeing him play that song.
It never occurred to me that anyone would cover “Daydream”. I’m not sure it’s much of a song without Trower. But the other day, I was surfing YouTube looking for Yet Another Version of “Daydream”, and I found that someone named Chantel McGregor covered the song. McGregor doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page, so it took me awhile to learn anything about her. She has one album out (which includes “Daydream”), and her story is fairly typical: dad loved classic rock, she grew up listening to it, picked up her first guitar at 3 or some such ridiculous age, never put the damn thing down, learned all of the songs in her dad’s collection, and grew into a blues-rock gee-tar pheenom who could also sing. Because she has yet to have any real impact in the States that I can see, she isn’t yet on the level of other contemporary female blues-rock guitarists like Susan Tedeschi or even the Serbian Ana Popovic, who at least has a Wikipedia page.
McGregor was named the Young Artist of the Year at the 2011 British Blues Awards. That same year saw the release of her first album, Like No Other. Most of the songs are originals, but the covers hint at her influences: “Daydream”, of course, Sonny Boy Williamson, and Fleetwood Mac (not the Peter Green blues band, though … she covers “Rhiannon”). A truer sign of her roots can be seen on YouTube, where you can find her covering Hendrix (“Red House”, “Purple Haze”, “Little Wing”, and “Voodoo Chile” … well, and “All Along the Watchtower”), Metallica, T-Bone Walker, Stevie Nicks (“Landslide”), and Bonnie Raitt (“I Can’t Make You Love Me”). If nothing else, she’s got a certain brazen quality … she’s not afraid to take on the best songs of the best artists.
Does she measure up? Sure. I don’t know that I’d say she was “like no other”, but she can play the shit out of the guitar. And there are about as many YouTube videos of her performing “Daydream” as there are of Robin Trower doing the same.
It’s hard to know which ones to feature here. The album version, which clocks in 14 minutes, is solid, but you end up looking at a picture of the album cover. There is something to be said for shorter versions, since she does go on for a bit … even Trower rarely goes over 10 minutes. But there’s also something to be said for when she stretches out … arguably the best performance is one that runs for 17 minutes. One version that I can’t find for BBC Radio 2 is said by McGregor to be “the longest song that they’ve ever played!”
So, here are two versions, one the studio version from the album, the other the 17-minute affair. Finally, I’ve attached one of Trower … it’s not the best video of him, but I was at the concert in question (Winterland), so it holds a place in my heart. First, the album version:
I don’t have much to add to the many heartfelt paeans to Maurice Sendak. But I will add what seems to be a minority opinion, that my favorite of his books is In the Night Kitchen, not Where the Wild Things Are. The surreal trip into the milk bottle, the happy/scary Oliver Hardy cooks, “I’m in the milk and the milk’s in me.” … I love it all. Gene Deitch did a nice animated version:
My Life as a Dog (Lasse Hallström, 1985). This film touched a lot of people. It garnered two Oscar nominations, was fairly popular with critics, and is said to be one of Kurt Vonnegut’s favorite movies. It’s an honest look at childhood that avoids the sappy-headed cheap emotion common to such pictures. I wish I could say I liked it more than I did. But I found my mind wandering, and was glad to see it end, not because there was anything wrong with it, but simply because I was tired of watching it. This is definitely a case of Your Mileage May Vary. #461 on the They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They list of the top 1000 films of all time. (Trivia note: the girl who plays the tomboy is the real-life sister of Joel Kinnaman from The Killing.) 6/10.
The Navigator (Donald Crisp and Buster Keaton, 1924). Somehow I had missed this one along the way, and I’m so glad I finally saw it. Reviews of Keaton’s film in his prime write themselves. They are inventive, surreal, hilarious, and startling in the way his modern-day follower Jackie Chan can be. The shorts tend to be more surreal, with more laughs-per-minute, but the features are funny, too, and Keaton devised some of his biggest stunts in those pictures. (Plus, a movie like The General, which I admittedly find more admirable than funny, is a masterpiece in the historical genre.) In other words, there’s not much to say about The Navigator. I could list the best bits, but they don’t play as well on the page as they do on the screen. I could wish for a final third that didn’t feature black cannibals, although this one is no worse than most pictures of its time. The most important thing that separates The Navigator from the pack is Kathryn McGuire. She was in a lot of movies up until 1930, and then she disappeared from the screen, even though she was only 27. There’s not a lot about her on the Internet. But she is marvelous in this movie. She may not quite be Michelle Yeoh to Buster’s Jackie Chan, but she’s a lot more involved than a Maggie Cheung. Her physicality and willingness to participate in Keaton’s intricate slapstick make more of an equal than is usual in Keaton’s films, and this also adds a bit of a sexual charge to their relationship, again not usual for Keaton. Yes, it’s Buster’s film, and it’s his stunts you’ll remember, but McGuire is a key part of the movie’s success. #384 on the TSPDT Top 1000 list. 10/10.
This one wasn’t actually requested by Ray. He just told me it was good, and I took his recommendation as an excuse to include it here.
This Is England tells the story of a budding skinhead in England in 1983. The sociological context helps place the film in its time, but I don’t think it’s necessary to know all about skinheads to get something from the film. It may sound like a sociology tract, but in fact it’s a fine, semi-autobiographical drama that feels “real”. Thomas Turgoose, 14 at the time and making his acting debut, is rightfully praised for his multi-faceted portrait of a 12-year-old whose father died in the Falklands War, and discovers a second family amongst the skinheads. His pals are a fairly amiable lot, and they take on the youngster as something of a mascot at first. You understand why the boy would want to join this gang, although it’s less clear why the gang exists in the first place (if Meadows made this more explicit, it would be a better sociology tract, but probably a worse movie).
Things change in an explosive fashion when an old gang member played by Stephen Graham (Al Capone in Boardwalk Empire) gets released from prison. His turn towards nationalist racism and violence is frightening, and Graham really digs into the role … he is pretty frightening, himself. Graham also manages to make a romantic moment (to him, anyway) seem legit. It’s a terrific performance that takes the film up a notch just when it needs it.
There isn’t much new here. It’s a fairly standard coming-of-age story. But the milieu is handled with honesty, and the acting by Turgoose and Graham is impressive. This Is England isn’t always easy to watch, but it’s uncomfortable in a good way. 8/10.
“Family Affair” might be my favorite Mary J. Blige song.
I’ll fall back on statistics here … I’d be overreaching my knowledge to speak specifically to her sound, other than to say that her “Queen of Hip-Hop Soul” moniker is accurate, and to note that without Mary J. Blige, there is no Pink, to name a personal favorite amongst the many who have been influenced by Blige. Here are some of the many awards she has won over the years:
4 American Music Awards, 4 ASCAP Awards, 4 BET Awards, 10 Billboard Music Awards, 9 Grammys, 1 MTV Video Music Award, 6 NAACP Image Awards, 5 Soul Train Music Awards, 1 Source Award, 1 Vibe Award, and 2 World Music Awards.
“Family Affair” comes from her fifth album, and is produced by Dr. Dre. It is, as far as I know, the origin of the term “hateration”. It was really, really popular, enough so that I’m confused when I read the numbers … I think it was Number One in France for 17 straight weeks. Here it is:
I don’t want all the Bruce Springsteen fans to think I’ve forgotten them, so here is a Mary J/Bruce connection. First, Mary J singing “Hard Times Come Again No More”:
I’ve always hated the movie Top Gun. It is true that it espouses a vision of American masculinity I could do without, and I have been accused of having negative feelings towards the movie because of my disagreement with the film’s values. But I think the key concept here is “espouses”. There is a difference between presenting a perspective, and espousing it. The preening that Top Gun indulges in isn’t offered with a critical eye; instead, it is given as a promotion of the ideas in the film. Top Gun is a commercial.
Too many people automatically assume that everything they see is espousing the perspective that is being offered. This has recently come up once again with the debut of Girls on HBO. Girls is a series about white, middle-class women in their early 20s, living in New York City. The auteur is Lena Dunham (she created the show, writes the show, stars in the show, and directs episodes of the show), who is herself a white, middle-class woman in her 20s. The semi-autobiographical nature of Girls leads some to criticize the show because they assume it espouses the perspective of the women who make up most of the cast. Why would they want to watch a show that promotes such a narrow, even despicable way of life?
But the characters in Girls are far from happy, they are not presented in a particularly positive light, and the main character (played by Dunham) is the recipient of the most barbed criticisms. She is self-absorbed and privileged. But this is not shown as a good thing. She is at her best when she steps outside of her self-absorption. Girls is not a commercial for the life style of its characters, the way Top Gun is a commercial for American ass-kicking via bad-mother flyboys. Girls walks a thin tightrope, to be sure, and it may turn out to be a commercial, but it’s not there yet.
I was talking with a couple of my siblings recently about Mad Men. A general complaint was that they saw no reason to watch a show about advertising executives from the sexist 60s. (I’m not sure either of them have actually seen the show, since they already know what it’s about.) If Mad Men were created by Tony Scott, it might work as a commercial in the Top Gun mode. But it’s not. Few, if any, of the characters on Mad Men are happy with their lives. None of the male characters are role models. Don Draper is a commitment-fearing philanderer with a big, existential secret … Roger Sterling has smoked and drank himself into numerous heart attacks … Pete Campbell flounders because he can’t meet the standards he thinks Don and Roger have set for him. And while they may not be aware of it, we in the audience know that they are entering a period in American life when their male privileges are being contested. In short, while something like Top Gun promotes the life it puts on the screen, Mad Men critiques the life and times of its characters.
There was a crucial scene in Mad Men a few weeks ago. A bunch of the ad execs take a potential client out on the town for booze and whores. At the brothel, Don sits at the bar, drinking, while the others get what they came for (Don is at present too enraptured with his new wife to join the men, and his opinion of whorehouses is affected by the fact that his mother was a prostitute). Afterwards, Pete and Don are alone in the back of a cab, and Pete drunkenly accuses Don of disapproving of Pete’s visit with the prostitute, finding Don to be a hypocrite, given his own history of philandering. Even Roger joined in the fun at the brothel. Don looks at Pete with surprise and notes, “Roger is miserable.”
I’m reminded of a point in our sibling conversation when my brother asked if the men on the show cheated on their wives, this being behavior he didn’t much approve of. I’m not disagreeing with him … I’ve been married to the same woman for almost 39 years myself. But his question missed the point. Yes, they cheat on their wives. And they are miserable. Mad Men isn’t a blueprint for cheating husbands, unless your idea of a good life is to feel miserable.
There are many reasons why we might decide to spend time with one television series over another. It may be on a topic that doesn’t interest you, it may be that you don’t have the time to devote an hour a week, it may be that you watched it once and thought it stunk. And it may be that the values the series espouses are ones you don’t like. But it is stupid to assume that just because a series (or movie, or book, or play, or song) presents a perspective you disagree with, it must be promoting the values of that point of view. Girls doesn’t make you want to be a 24-year-old middle-class white girl in NYC, The Godfather Part II doesn’t make you want to be Michael Corleone, and Mad Men doesn’t make you want to be Don Draper. You’re confusing these works of art with commercials like Top Gun, which exist solely to make you want to be like Tom Cruise.
A few years ago, I wrote an essay for a book in the Smart Pop series from BenBella Books, on the series 24. For one week only, the Smart Pop website is running that essay for free: “Can a Leftist Love 24?”
It was an odd project for me. We were originally told that the idea was to avoid polarizing the audience. Then, conservative writer Richard Miniter was named editor, which freaked me out a bit, perhaps especially when I found out he liked my essay. But I have to say, Miniter was a good editor. Most of the time, when I wrote for BenBella, the famous editor was window dressing, but Miniter actually edited my stuff. (I should add that then, as often with BenBella, my primary editor was Leah Wilson, who is one of the best editors I've ever worked with.)
Here's a brief excerpt from my essay. You can read the whole thing at the Smart Pop website for a week, or you can buy the entire book if you're so inclined.
It is one thing to want popular culture that better reflects who we are as a diverse populace, and another to say that we should turn off our critical faculties in the name of supporting something that has more cultural importance than it does artistic value. And it is one thing to have concerns about the use of torture on 24, and another to say that 24 is bad art because it features scenes of torture. It might be more dangerous art, but the cultural impact does not necessarily change the aesthetics.
The Cabin in the Woods (Drew Goddard, 2011). On the way to see Drew Goddard’s first directorial effort, I mentioned Cloverfield to my wife. Goddard wrote the screenplay for that one, and I gave it 8/10. She liked the movie well enough, but she thought it was pretty silly to give such a high rating to that movie. Well, here I go again. There is a LOT going on in The Cabin in the Woods, and while I’m pretty good about not giving spoilers, it takes all of my energy to keep quiet here, because one of the delights of the movie is that is regularly sets up situations you think you have figured out, and then it takes a turn you hadn’t expected. Which isn’t to say it’s incoherent … by the end of the movie, it all makes sense, in a B-movie kind of way. It’s clever, it’s meta, it’s a lot of things that are normally pretty boring, but In Joss We Trust, so it’s good clever, it’s good meta. The final 20 minutes or so are eye-poppingly gory (my mouth was open the entire time, although one friend in our group said it was a boring example of too much CGI and red-colored corn syrup). There are so many references to other movies and TV shows that you lose track (the IMBD lists 15 “movie connections”, including the Evil Dead movies, 30s horror classics, and the video game Left 4 Dead, and that seems like too small a number … just to note two obvious ones from TV, there’s Scooby-Doo and Dollhouse). I’m trying to talk about this movie without giving anything away about this movie, which explains my rather vague comments. I can only say that it worked for me. 8/10.
Recent Comments