Loud City Song

Julia Holter’s new album Loud City Song is a tribute to the novella and film Gigi. It’s complex, lush and begs multiple listens. She’s grown with every album and until her next this will be her champion. Holter languidly whispers from the corners and jumps to the center of the room with bombast only to sneakily retreat again. Loud City Song is a top shelf Chardonnay while the majority of pop albums this year are lowbrow palette. Loud City Song is rare and will be kept for years in a cellar!

Mud-deid Critic Meter

It is quite possible that I am simply a contrarian. I love indie music and I generally have little tolerance for what’s on the radio. I prefer smaller budget films that have restraint versus films that seemingly have a limitless budget. It could be that simple. Maybe I am destined to hate a thing unless everyone else dismisses it, but there is no way that Mud should be on a single list at the end of this year for best films of 2013.

At the beginning of this year I found out that Nichols and Shannon were working yet again on a film together. So, I came into this with certain expectations based on my affection for Take Shelter and Shotgun Stories. Matthew McConaughey was also included in on the cast and if you’ve seen Bernie and Killer Joe you know yourself that McConaughey has been on a tear lately, but unfortunately he is also wasted by backing into a character we’ve seen him play all too often. The only new edition to McConaughey here is his receding gum line, which is attributed to a fantastic job by the makeup artist(s).

Take a moment and visit rottentomatoes and do a search for Jeff Nichols. On this director’s page you’ll find his filmography and among his films the highest rated is now Mud. By no means is Mud a bad film, but compared to Take Shelter it is slight. Mud is a straightforward, unchallenging coming of age story set on the Mississippi. Take Shelter challenges the viewer and begs for interpretation. Even the performances are superior, which only reminds me of the utter lack of screen time Michael Shannon gets in Mud.

So, why the 98% of the compiled critics on rottentomatoes felt like this deserved more than the 92% of critics that loved Take Shelter is beyond me. Take Shelter may very well be the best film Jeff Nichols ever directs and I could easily see it making “the best of the ‘10s” list. Can we say the same for Mud? Again, maybe I’m a contrarian. Or, maybe critics heard the buzz coming off the festival circuit and had their minds made up before they sat down to watch the film. Did they go into the screening, take off the critic’s cap, and just enjoy a predetermined “great” film? Or, is Mud so unchallenging and serviceable that it leaves the critic no choice but to approve as opposed to criticize?

What Maisie Knew

What Maisie Knew is the exploration of a child custody battle from the perspective of a child. Although I would like to, I can’t wholly dismiss What Maisie Knew. The performances by a well-stocked cast and newcomers, Joanna Vanderham and child actress Onata Aprile, nearly give pathos to the script, but by the end of the film I question the motivations of the characters. To question the motivations of the characters, exclusively the adult characters, in the film would give way to spoilers. I will not do that, because I do think the performance of Onata Apirle, played here as Maisie, is worth a viewing. This isn’t a film I will revisit, but Apirle’s chops stand out even when she is in the same frame as Julianne Moore. For that alone, I recommend everyone see the often hard to watch (due to child neglect and psychological abuse in nearly every scene) What Maisie Knew. I expect we will see more from Apirle in the future. 

The Greatest Trilogy Ever Told

When I was seventeen, I made the decision to leave home. The how and what of it I wasn’t sure at the time. I just knew I wanted to see the world. I did some mental math. If I live to be seventy-five and I’ve already lived what is going to be eighteen years of my life in and around Savannah, why would I spend anymore time here? That’s twenty-four percent of my life. I’ve always carried that instinct – that mental clock. It can be exhausting, morbid even. However, it can also drive you to some interesting places, people and situations. You are trying to squeeze every ounce of juice from an orange and for some odd reason you are being timed. To lower expectations, I compromised with myself. If I only make it to New York, at least I’m not here and I can live with that.

I fairly quickly found a way to get around the world. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it would get me out of my hometown immediately after I graduated. For a decade straight, I lived overseas and only touched American soil three times in an entire decade. I’ve said all that to truly say this, I’ve spent a lot of time in planes, trains, and automobiles. I’ve spent a lot of time in relationships with foreign women. I’ve fallen in and out of love – sometimes overnight.

In Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and Before Midnight we start with two people that meet for the first time on a train headed to Austria. From that point forward we are allowed to be with Jesse and Celine for about twelve hours of their day. We are invited back in every ten years and Linklater, Hawke and Delpy literally take ten years to make the next film. We are allowed to visit them at different stages of their lives and with each film they become more complex. They carry an exponential amount of emotional depth with each visit. As a person that has experienced some of this myself, I can honestly say the film feels like it’s coming from a real place. It never once feels insincere. This is how people that fall in love in a foreign place and with a person foreign to them actually communicate - fight even.

These films are never trite or cliché and for once it’s a good example of when “show, don’t tell” doesn’t apply. The show is in their body language, a look or how something is said. Hawke and Delpy’s chemistry is phenomenal, Linklater’s camera always where it needs to be. I’m not sure if we will get to visit them again ten years from now, but if we don’t I can live with that. We went places. 

The Anti Bond

Before Daniel Craig, the James Bond franchise was all bombast, misogyny and on the nose. For crying out loud, characters had names like Pussy Galore. The films, the writing and the sets were absurd and consistently so to their credit. Still, that type of absurdity is best left to the creators of Archer. Newer editions, primarily Casino Royale and Skyfall, have improved the franchise and taken it from homo erectus to Neanderthal. Even Quantam of Solace is a far cry from most of the Bond entries. Sidebar: Skyfall may make a list in the future of favorite villains. How good are Javier Bardem’s villains?

I bring up Bond to juxtapose one of my favorite anti-Bond films, The American. Whether Corbijn setout to make an anti-Bond film I wouldn’t know, but that’s certainly the lens of which I view the film. George Clooney quietly plays an assassin and not once does he walk into a bar, flash his cufflinks, order a shaken martini (What?!), chat up the villain’s girlfriend and state his entire name.

Clooney’s only love interest is with a hooker. He pays her and she speaks just average English. Everything is quiet and he doesn’t walk with the confidence of a man that lives without fear. His job ensures his endangerment and his body language shows it. The film isn't without its flaws, but it's a better study of how the life of an assassin might be lived. 

Any further talk of the film would contain spoilers, so I will leave you with the following: For the men out there that still need their inner teenage boy fix, there are boobs. The women in the film, Violante Placido and Thekla Reuten, are gorgeous and their performances are graceful and understated. And for the women, George Clooney’s bare ass makes an appearance on occasion.