England

I’m heading off for England in a week. I don’t really know what to expect, the last time I was there it wasn’t such a big thing for me, I was young. But now my favorite bands are all from across the pond, from punk to britpop to even the ineptly named nu-rave.

Which brings me to a conversation I just recently had: what in the world will the 2000s be remembered for? There’s such a definitive line between the decades, but what of my generation? I hope to god it won’t be remembered for emo, which although significant due to its popularity, is a pathetic attempt to reach out to those who have long lost grunge but want the goth aesthetic. I mean look at them! Tell me they weren’t in it for the money rather than the music. Seriously.

Then again, there is “indie” rock. Although, in this age of MySpace and iPods, and where almost every music loving home owns a computer, why is it that people are accepting the same generic drivel from this tired, worn-out “genre”? Why can’t there be that one guy in his bathroom creating a unique masterpiece that actually gets recognized for it? That, would be indie.

These days, especially in England, people seem to be yearning for that ideal, so much that they just accept a tired Oasis clone as the best thing to happen since… well… Oasis, simply because they represent all things indie, which is principally their rise to fame due only to word of mouth on the internet. I speak of none other than the Arctic Monkeys. “SHUT UP! Enough already, Ballstein! Who cares about Derek Zoolander anyway? The man has only one look, for Christ’s sake! Blue Steel? Ferrari? Le Tigra? They’re the same face! Doesn’t anybody notice this? I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!” Just the way I feel about these cookie cutter indie bands. Does no one seem to recognize that it’s the same thing over and over again?

By the way, if anyone gets the chance, see This Is England, an amazing movie about skinheads in the 80’s. It’s a heavy one, but what an incredible portrait of the nationalism and racism during the Thatcher years partly brought about by the war in the Falkand Islands.

Concerning England, I really have no idea what I should think about going there. I remember a day when Japan was my country of worship, but I feel as if my bonds with Japan were weaker than what I feel for England. Music is now my life, and music from England has been consistently my favorite, going all the way back to the Kinks and the Beatles and up to Blur and Radiohead.

I guess leaving many of my best friends has also had a bit of an effect on me… It’s tough to think I’ll be seeing so little of the people who are closest to me in my life. But I have to accept it. I have to know that it isn’t the end of the world, and I will see them again, as hard as it is for my deluded mind to believe.

Shameless Plug

Never Mind the Bats has rekindled my love affair with the writing medium typically known as the weblog, or more colloquially known simply as a “blog.” So from here on out, you better get ready for some cogency, and more importantly, coherence, in my writing. That is… as soon as I see Hot Fuzz on Friday.

Two Kubrick Films

I’d wanted to see more Stanley Kubrick movies after being enthralled with A Clockwork Orange and horrified by distant memories of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Not to mention Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, which not only opened my eyes to Kubrick, but introduced me to Peter Sellers, one of my favorite all time actors.

The Shining was the kind of movie that scares you more after you watch it, and besides, it was more about the atmosphere and how it made the viewer feel. But as far as the horror factor goes, Nicholson was the only one who could’ve played the Jack character, he made the film what it is. None of this is really new though, this movie’s been around forever. My only thought was that it’d be a completely different movie if the music were to be changed.

Next, a classic New York film noir. The Killing, made in 1956 (the “classic” era for film noirs), is astonishing. I think of all movies from that long ago as more akin to books than a movie by today’s standards. I say this because you get dropped right into the action, not knowing who people are or what role they play until you figure it out for yourself. This movie builds suspense like none other, not nervous suspense, but of the anxious kind. The end is not what you think it’ll be, but I haven’t seen enough film noir to determine whether this is normal.

Werner Herzog Double Feature 3/23/07 at the Aero

Yesterday was the second of four days devoted to Werner Herzog at the Aero Theatre in Santa Monica. Showing was a new 35mm print of The Mystery of Kaspar Hauser (aka Every Man for Himself and God Against All) (1974) and a 16 mm print of Heart of Glass (Herz Aus Glas) (1976). But the films weren’t the main attraction, it was Werner Herzog’s appearance in between them in which he discussed the both films as well as answered questions from the audience.

Kaspar Houser is a charming film about a foundling in 19th century Germany. It’s compelling, sweet, and the acting is brilliant. The story is based on the actual events which happened to Kaspar Houser during this same time period.

Heart of Glass, on the other hand, I was completely unprepared for. Herzog did discuss the process he went through when hypnotizing his entire cast to create a unique effect and dream-like quality of acting, but I felt that it was way too artsy. The main character, who was the only one not hypnotized during production, could see into the future. He could see the demise of this small village which relied on selling a special type of “ruby glass” to survive. The message of this film was clear, but it was not done in a way that I was prepared to sit through. I only had 5 hours of sleep the night before, this movie started at 10:30 and didn’t end until midnight, and I had just finished watching another movie just before it; I was in no mood to fully concentrate on this mind-trip. To be fair, I’m going to rent this movie and watch it again when I have the time and am fully awake.

Highlight of the night: Werner Herzog chuckling to himself while recalling the time he was shot during an interview.