Steven Rubio's Online Life

pink #8

It seems a bit unfair to say that in 2023, a Pink concert offers no surprises. If you've never seen her before, every one of her concerts is surprising. This being my 8th time, though (I'm getting old, I lost count, I told people it was my 7th), I'm not surprised at her live excellence or with her remarkable high-flying acrobatics. It's been a long time since I saw her at the Fillmore in 2006, just before she added the Cirque du Soleil spectacle. It's good to remember that she delivers even without the trapeze work, and in fact, many of the highlights now are the more "grounded" songs.

This was our first time seeing her since the release of Trustfall, which guaranteed some new-to-us songs in the concert. There were five from Trustfall, including the title track (which featured perhaps the most amazing gymnastics of the night, provided in this case by dancers interacting with trampolines to great effect) and "Turbulence", where the air-work was more exquisite than physical and ended with Pink and another dancer moving beautifully together in the air. There were the usual covers ... not usual as in "she does them every time", but usual as in "she always includes some interesting ones". This time she did Dylan-channeled-through-Adele with "Make You Feel My Love", to which she accompanied herself on piano; "Me and Bobby McGee" (she has often done material connected to Janis Joplin); and Sade's "No Ordinary Love". It goes without saying at this point that her band is tight and impressive. I have long attributed this in part to the consistency with which she gathers her supporting act ... they've been with her so long they share a connection that wouldn't be the same with a more random selection of musicians. By my count, at least five of them have been around forever, including Justin Derrico on guitar, Eva Gardner on bass, backup singer Stacy Campbell, keyboardist Jason Chapman, and jill-of-all-trades Adriana Balic.

The inevitable "So What" with Pink flying around the arena, saying hello to fans all over the damn place, remains a thrill no matter how many times you've seen it. It's still amazing that she does this in her act ... she's 44 years old now but still apparently fearless. I'd say her thighs were a wonder of nature, except she works hard to keep them strong. And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that she is perfect in her interactions with the crowd ... the setlists might be mostly the same from night to night, but her side comments and the times when she signs something for a fan, or accepts candy and the like from them, inject a welcomed human touch.

Grouplove was the opening act ... they're an alt-rock band that has been around for at least a dozen years ... singer Hannah Hooper is in her early 40s, I imagine the same could be said for most of the band, they've got a seasoned act that was well-received. Even better was DJ KidCutUp ... we've seen him with Pink before, he has a great sense of what works with the crowd, he had most of the 18,000 people in the audience up and dancing.

revisiting carrie (brian de palma, 1976)

With the passing of Piper Laurie, I thought I'd revisit Carrie, for which Laurie received a Supporting Actress Oscar nomination (Sissy Spacek was also nominated, for lead actress). The cast for Carrie is pretty remarkable, with many making their feature debuts ... besides Spacek and Laurie, there were Amy Irving, William Katt, Nancy Allen, John Travolta, Betty Buckley, P.J. Soles, and Edie McClurg. For my money, Laurie's performance is a lesser one. She gives her all to the part of a religious fanatic mother, but I found her too over the top. (Apparently, Laurie thought of her role and the movie as black comedy rather than horror.) Every Brian De Palma movie thrives on excess, the good ones and the bad, so it's a bit silly of me to complain about Laurie's scenery chewing.

Carrie clicked with a lot of people. It was the first in what became an endless series of films and television shows based on the works of Stephen King. There was a sequel and two remakes. There was even a musical adaptation for the stage.

There are a few iconic scenes ... again, it wouldn't be a De Palma film without a couple ... and while De Palma builds the horror gradually, he definitely delivers in the end. But I admit, I think Carrie falls short of classic status.

geezer cinema: the creator (gareth edwards, 2023)

Not much to say about this one. I was disappointed, in that Gareth Edwards has done well so far. His first feature, the cheapie Monsters, was a revelation, his Godzilla was even better, and Rogue One was good for a Star Wars movie. The Creator isn't a total failure ... many people have noted how much Edwards got out of his low-for-blockbuster $80 million budget, but he'd shown his skills in that area when he made Monsters for under $1 million, doing FX on his computer. John David Washington has shown that he can be a solid lead in a big movie ... I just wish those movies were better. The real find is Madeleine Yuna Voyles in her first movie ... she was 7 years old during filming, she is possibly the best thing about The Creator.

The biggest problem is that the plot of The Creator lacks the kind of internal logic that allows us suspend disbelief. I don't always like videos like the one that follows ... sometimes I think it's too easy to just pick at things. But I can't really argue with this one (spoilers galore):

music friday: the first bridge school benefit

On this date in 1986, the first Bridge School Benefit Concert was held. Put together by Neil and Pegi Young, the benefits were held annually through 2016. Young got a lot of big names to play at the concert, which was acoustic. (We were there, and also attended one other when Bruce was on the bill.)

Robin Williams was, well, Robin Williams:

Bruce Springsteen brought along Nils Lofgren and Danny Federici:

And Bruce and Nils helped Neil out:

film fatales #182: messiah of evil (willard huyck & gloria katz, 1973)

This is the sixth film I have watched in "My Letterboxd Season Challenge 2023-24", "A 33 week long challenge where the goal each week is to watch a previously unseen feature length film from a specified category." This is the 9th annual challenge, and my fifth time participating (previous years can be found at "2019-20", "2020-21", "2021-22", and "2022-23"). Week 6 is called "Art Horror Week":

Kicking off this year's October horror themes with a different kind of horror. Art house and avant-garde films take an abstract and experimental approach to scares, but they can be just as effective at getting under your skin as traditional horror.

This week's challenge is to watch an avant-garde or art-horror film. Use this list for inspiration.

A husband-and-wife team produced, wrote, and directed this for under a million dollars. They had just finished a treatment for a film with fellow SoCal film-school grad George Lucas, and went on to make their own movie. They later returned to work on Lucas' film, which was American Graffiti. They worked on many subsequent films, including the notorious Howard the Duck. Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz had their hands in a lot of George Lucas films, and are ultimately best known for that at-times uncredited work. Messiah of Evil, like so many early films out of film schools in the late-60s/early-70s, makes a virtue of its cheapness, overflows with student-film flourishes, and makes the most of what in the end isn't all that great.

Those arty flourishes are the best thing about the movie. It has a unique look ... the main home where much of the movie takes place is filled with art works that lend an almost Caligari feel. But Messiah of Evil isn't very scary ... foreboding might be a better word. The film making is accomplished. I want to say more positive things, but the movie didn't do it for me.

The cast is interesting. The four leads are cult figures to varying degrees: Michael Greer, Marianna Hill (Fredo's wife in Godfather II), Joy Bang, and Anitra Ford from the immortal Invasion of the Bee Girls. Old Hollywood is represented by Royal Dano and Elisha Cook Jr. (Cook apparently filmed his entire part in one day). In the time-honored tradition of cutting costs by using friends, future writer/director Walter Hill is the first person we see, as a soon-to-be victim, and Huyck and Katz themselves have cameos as zombies.

revisiting the 9s: good night, and good luck (george clooney, 2005)

[This is the eighteenth in a series that will probably be VERY intermittent, if I remember to post at all. I've long known that while I have given my share of 10-out-of-10 ratings for movies over the years, in almost every case, those movies are fairly old. So I got this idea to go back and revisit movies of relatively recent vintage that I gave a rating of 9, to see if time and perspective convinced me to bump that rating up to 10.]

In 2006, I wrote about Good Night, and Good Luck:

George Clooney has crafted a concise account of a specific moment in time, kept the attention of the audience while dealing with material that could easily have been drab, made several important decisions as a director that greatly enhance the movie (the black and white look, the apparent accuracy of the depiction of newsrooms in the 50s, getting David Strathairn to play Ed Murrow), and brought it all home in less than 100 minutes. The focus of the film is remarkable, in subject matter (it's not about the entire career of Murrow, or of McCarthy for that matter, but only about the period when they crossed swords) and in settings (most of the film takes place in cramped quarters inside a news studio).

And Clooney's underlying argument, that today's press doesn't do its job, that today's Joe McCarthys are not called on their lunacy, that in fact today's Joe McCarthys are as often as not members of the media themselves, is a good one.

And yet (and how many films are there where I don't ever say "and yet"?) ... the precision, the conciseness, the focus, means that the film's vision of Edward R. Murrow is too narrow. There's too much hero worshiping, and Murrow's career was more complicated than what we see in this film. This makes the movie, in retrospect, seem a bit untrustworthy.

And while Clooney mostly makes smart moves as a director, his decision to include musical interludes is a bad one. The interludes are fine in and of themselves, and they might even work in a more surreal film. But here, with Clooney striving for the maximum in authenticity, it's just odd and confusing to see Dianne Reeves singing sultry tunes somewhere in the CBS studios.

The movie is nominated for six Oscars, and they are a mixed bunch. Best Picture? Possibly. Best Director? Also possible. Best Actor? Why not? Best Cinematography and Art Direction? It really shines in these areas, even if I'm not quite sure what "art direction" means. Best Screenplay? Here, I'd have to disagree ... much of the best dialogue in the film is taken directly from transcripts from Murrow's television shows, and I can't see honoring such a process with a Best Screenplay award (maybe if it was in the "previously published" section instead of the "written directly for the screen" section).

I don't have a lot to add, except that I think I was a bit hard on the film, meaning if it had come out in the 1950s, I would have already given it a 10. I complained about the music interludes, but this time, they seemed right. I still think Best Screenplay is a bit of a stretch, except everything in the film, real footage and speeches and "acted" material, is blended perfectly. Good Night, and Good Luck is an exceptional film.

white noise (noah baumbach, 2022)

This is the fifth film I have watched in "My Letterboxd Season Challenge 2023-24", "A 33 week long challenge where the goal each week is to watch a previously unseen feature length film from a specified category." This is the 9th annual challenge, and my fifth time participating (previous years can be found at "2019-20", "2020-21", "2021-22", and "2022-23"). Week 5 is called "Visual Insanity Week":

Film is a visual medium, and this week celebrates the artists who take full advantage of the screen. Letterboxd user Emma Tolkin asked people what the most visually insane movie they've ever seen was, and compiled the hallucinogenic, meditative, harrowing, dreamy, and chaotic results into one list.

This week's challenge is to watch a film from Emma Tolkin's 🐉🎭✨ 𝕍𝕀𝕊𝕌𝔸𝕃𝕃𝕐 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙴👹🧞‍♀️👁️ list.

I'm not sure I would have noticed at first that the visuals in White Noise were what Emma Tolkin refers to as "insane". They are idiosyncratic, a fascinating blend of realism and the subjective as experienced by the characters, and even that realism tends to be heightened. In retrospect, I have to hand it to Tolkin and the people who responded to her poll, because if I might not use the word "insane", the visuals in this movie do move from meditative to harrowing to dreamy to chaotic, smoothly at times, messily when that is appropriate.

I would call White Noise a good try by writer/director Noah Baumbach to capture what has been called an unfilmable novel. I don't know exactly what Baumbach could have done differently. I have no idea what Don DeLillo thinks of this movie adaptation of his book ... perhaps it primarily matters how much DeLillo got paid ... I'm not sure it matters what DeLillo thinks, any more than it matters what any novelist thinks of the movies that grow out of their books. White Noise stands on its own. You could watch it without knowing the book and you wouldn't get lost. I've read the book, and I don't think Baumbach does any harm. But all of this skirts the only thing that matters: is White Noise a good movie? To which I would say, it's a good try.

It's nice to see Greta Gerwig in front of the cameras again. I am a fan of her work as a director, but her quirky presence on the screen is fun to watch. Adam Driver seems miscast, but that may actually be perfect casting, since his character is often unsettled. The Gladney family is believable without the kids being obnoxious. Don Cheadle is his usual good self as a professor who wants to work in Elvis Studies. The latter matters ... Driver's Professor Gladney made a name for himself in academia for "Hitler Studies", and White Noise reflects its origins in DeLillo's book in casting a humored but jaundiced eye at academia.

Yet in the end (and I'm not saying anything about the literal end, which is a blast and you should see it for yourself), I didn't really care about White Noise. It exists, it doesn't replace the novel but it's a reasonable facsimile, there's nothing particularly wrong with it, but I'd call it disappointing if I had any actual hopes for the film. I prefer Baumbach to Wes Anderson, to whom Baumbach was often attached earlier in his career, and I think his pairing with Gerwig has been fruitful. But I don't think White Noise is Baumbach's best film as a director (that would be Marriage Story), and I don't think it's up to the standards Gerwig herself has set in her work as a director.

music friday: fillmore auditorium 10/6/67

Another look back at the Fillmore Auditorium, this time going back 56 years to October 6, 1967. The triple-bill was night two of a three-night stand.

Opening was Mad River, an Ohio band that moved to Berkeley in early 1967. They released an EP later that year, which I assume would have been part of their concert repertoire at the time of this show. The next year they signed with Capitol Records and released two albums, the first of which I owned ... it was psychedelia at its finest/worst. Here is a track from the EP, "A Gazelle", which they re-recorded for their Capitol debut (renamed "Amphetamine Gazelle"):

In 1977, we saw Lawrence Hammond and the Whiplash Band open at a Dan Hicks concert. Hammond was a key member of Mad River, and all I knew of him was that first album, so when he and his band unleashed a decent country-rock sound, I couldn't help myself and shouted out a request for "Amphetamine Gazelle". "Crawl back in your time capsule" was the immortal reply. Next up was The Grass Roots. I sometimes forget that The Grass Roots had a pre-fame period where they might play at The Fillmore. Earlier in 1967, they'd had their first top-ten hit, "Let's Live for Today", which would have made them the most famous artists on this bill. Among the group members at that time was Creed Bratton, who later played "Creed Bratton" on the U.S. version of The Office. Bratton is the first person you see on this video:

And here he is on The Office:

Headlining was Quicksilver Messenger Service, one of the key bands in the "San Francisco Sound". They hadn't released any albums at the time of this show ... they had one single that I think had been released. They played at Monterey Pop ... they pretty much played all the time. But they held out on a recording contract, finally connecting with Capitol Records in late 1967 (one of the last SF bands to sign).

In their early years, they were renowned for the intricate guitar play of John Cipollina and Gary Duncan. Cipollina in particular is remembered as one of the finest guitar players of his era. Here is "The Fool" from their first album, which I played over and over back in the day. I like what Richie Unterberg said on AllMusic: "The Fool' reflects some of the best and worst traits of the psychedelic era."

geezer cinema: mildred pierce (michael curtiz, 1945)

Mostly just a cut-and-paste of a movie I didn't realize I'd written about before. It really is a fine movie. Oddly enough, I may have underrated it, since I’m not a big fan of Joan Crawford. Many of the differences between this and the HBO mini-series can be attributed to the way HBO was able to return to the original novel, while Warner Brothers had to deal with the “unfilmable” nature of James M. Cain’s book in the context of the early 40s. What is interesting is that Warners removed some of the sleaziest aspects of the book, but then added a murder (killing someone was more acceptable than sleeping with your stepdaughter). Ann Blyth’s Veda is more believable than what HBO gave us, and Crawford won an Oscar, although she’s no match for Kate Winslet. Michael Curtiz filmed it like a noir, and it works on that level.