|
Lou Reed's 1973 LP "Berlin" resides in a category somewhere
between lost album and cult classic. A total reversal of the liberated
libertinism of his global glam hit "Transformer," "Berlin" was roundly ignored
by the mass audience that was apparently waiting for a repeat of "Walk on the
Wild Side," and relegated to the bargain bins of history. Never mind that it was
one of the boldest works in a career marked by bold choices, "Berlin" has spent
35 years as a good working definition of what happens when a commercial artist
dares to challenge his listeners: He stops being a commercial artist.
Those
of us who revere the album were justifiably excited by the announcement in 2006
that Reed would revive the album as a stage show, replete with small orchestra,
choir, and rock band. Even more exciting was the news that painter/filmmaker
Julian Schnabel was filming it. And sure enough, "Berlin" the movie is as stark
a contrast to standard issue live music films as "Berlin" the album was to rock
albums in 1973. Impeccably designed, lit, orchestrated and staged, the film
looks exactly like the album sounds. Performed with Reed's legendary casual
intensity (he even sings!), Schnabel's "Berlin" feels like the secret soundtrack
to his film "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly," scenes from which are projected
over the musicians. The result is a brilliant tribute to a hidden treasure of
rock music, a work of emotional desolation and romantic agony, or, as Schnabel
writes in the film's introduction, "a masterpiece about love's dark sisters,
jealousy, rage and loss." The bonus features, including a snippet of Elvis
Costello interviewing Reed and Schnabel and a tour documentary, are decent, but
forgettable. The film is anything but.
|
|
 |
| Legendary Performances: Marty Robbins |
|
Known best for the soaring 1959 story ballad (and karaoke
staple) "El Paso," Arizonan Marty Robbins was one of the most versatile artists
-- though his heart may have been on the "western" side of country-and-western
index -- who ever rang up nearly 100 charting singles. This DVD, part of an
outstanding archival series from Shout Factory that also features Tammy Wynette,
offers 15 of Robbins' finest moments from now-defunct country music TV shows
like "Country Style USA," "Town Hall Party" and "Pop! Goes the Country," as well
as his own programs "The Marty Robbins Show" and "Marty Robbins Spotlight." Some
songs are sung live. Many are lip-synched. Some, like "El Paso," "Singing the
Blues," "Devil Woman," "A White Sport Coat (and a Pink Carnation)" and "Among My
Souvenirs" are instantly recognizable gems that satisfy as only classics can.
Others, like "The Story of My Life," "Ribbon of Darkness" and the later numbers
"El Paso City" and "All Around Cowboy," are fresh treasures to be discovered.
Bonus features, like a 1982 interview and Robbins' induction into the Country
Music Hall of Fame the same year are perfectly fine, particularly to superfans.
But the real joy lies in the performances, and Robbins' sweetly likable
face.
|
|
|
 |
| Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains |
|
Aside from transforming the climate of celebrity and live
performance and stirring up many dicey copyright issues, the age of DVD and
online video has also spelled the death of the "lost" film. No classic, it
seems, is too cult to slip between the ever-closing cracks in the infinite
sidewalk of content. To prove this point, one of the last great lost films of
the past 30 (hell, make that 50) years, barely released in theaters in 1982 and
available thereafter only on bootleg video until this week, has been given
an official release. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains," one of the
smartest, most subversive rock 'n' roll movies ever made, has finally
arrived.
Starring many familiar faces -- including Diane Lane, Laura
Dern, Ray Winstone, Christine Lahti, two Sex Pistols, a Tube and a Clash --
"Stains" is a serious satire about an all-girl band who, thanks to a couple of
chance TV appearances and a lucky/unlucky break or two, rise up to become
unlikely heroines to a nation of disaffected girls, despite, or because of, the
fact that they "don't put out."
Filmed on a low budget and with a
decidedly anarchic take on pop culture, the film is positioned at the crossroads
of classic rock, punk and new wave, at the flashpoint of third-wave feminism and
on the precipice of MTV's transformation of music into an image-dominated
medium. The performances (especially Lane's and Winstone's) are far better and
more nuanced than you might expect, and the tunes stay with you. The end of the
lost film is sad but a small, nostalgic price to pay for the chance to truly
enjoy a proper transfer of a film like "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous
Stains," ahead of its time even all these years later.
|
|
|
 |
| Tammy Wynette: Legendary Performances |
|
Everyone has seen clips of Tammy Wynette singing "Stand by Your
Man" on those late-night TV infomercials for Time Life Greatest Hits of Every
Imaginable Decade. And while the chorus of that immortal number is definitely
among the most rousing moments in country or pop history, the rest of the song
that builds up to it is every bit as crucial. This DVD, which compiles Ms.
Wynette's TV appearances throughout the late '60s and '70s, both as a solo
performer and as a duo with George Jones, is dedicated to making sure you
remember the whole song -- and she had many more classics than you tend to
remember -- even if it means a bit of lip-synching. TV shows from this era play
primitive, none more so than country music-based programs, which clung to a
certain "yes, ma'am" sensibility for decades (you watch them evolve, slowly, as
the DVD spins; check the stiff bonus features, in particular). They're charming
enough. But when Tammy Wynette steps onto the screen, an electrifying melancholy
comes with her, making even the stiffest settings melt away. Singing, even
synching, incredible hits like "D-I-V-O-R-C-E," "Don't Come Home a Drinkin'
(With Lovin' on Your Mind)," "I Don't Wanna Play House," "Stand by Your Man" and
even a relatively happy song, like her Jones duet "Golden Ring," Wynette is sort
of impervious to the tackiness of the presentation. She looks like she has no
choice but to sing these songs. And you have no choice but to listen,
obviously.
|
|
|
 |
| Party at the Palace: The Queen's Golden Jubilee |
|
All-star rock and roll concert mega events only ever go one of
two ways: train wrecks and smaller train wrecks. The number of performers
involved, the size of their egos and the sheer weight of an audience's
anticipation tend to spell disaster for big shows like Live Aid, Woodstock and
their ilk. The good news is, the spectacle usually overwhelms the technical for
those in attendance, so it usually feels like a good time. And now that DVDs (to
say nothing of cell phone cameras) are standard components of the experience,
the performers have learned to try and keep it simple.
That can be said
of all the top line performers at this concert held to celebrate the Jubilee of
Queen Elizabeth II in 2002 (they're held every 25 years). No one takes any big
chances, and no major revelations are on offer. That means a decent show you can
have on in the background as you do the crossword, or water the plants. Shirley
Bassey opens the show with "Goldfinger" (what else), followed by the royally
sanctioned likes of Sirs Elton John and Paul McCartney, Rod Stewart, Tom Jones,
Annie Lennox, Emma "Baby Spice" Bunton and, in a rare curveball, Ray Davies of
the Kinks and Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys. They all play the hits you would
expect, and they all please the crowd, her royal majesty and themselves.
In short, a smaller train wreck, as train wrecks go.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hotmail
Messenger
My MSN
MSN Directory
