So, hype's a funny thing. On Friday I went and saw Swedish sensation Jens Lekman (pictured), a crooner with a melifluous voice, ecstatic musical arrangements, and a rabid following. I've been digging his last album Night Falls Over Kortedala, a worthy follow-up to the collected here-and-there's of Oh You're So Silent Jens. But a strange thing happened at the show. Well, two strange things really. First, there was this old dude in a rumpled white button-down, sandals, and jeans, hand-clapping like Hillary Clinton at a Baptist church, while beatifically grinning and looking around the room for validation or partners--not sure which. That was kind of strange. Secondly, I realized that, wait, Jens kind of sucks. Well, not totally. The points above still stand, but his live show exposed something incredibly off-putting about his craft and about his personality: the man has the thoughts of an awkward, daft fifteen-year-old (on haircuts: "It's like a religious experience."), and feels the need to channel them into the most saccharine of lyrics. I'm not sure why this hadn't really bothered me before. Maybe I chalked it up to ESL issues, but standing there, taking in his set--the mics turned up a bit too high, static disrupting the joys of his cute, flower-uniformed violinists--I started to feel embarrassed for him:
Tram number one is full of fun/
Tram number two is couchie coo/
Tram number three has misery/
Tram number four knocks at your door/
Tram number five, I'm still alive/
Tram number six, I think I'm fixed/
Tram number seven/
Tram number seven to heaven
I'd been swept up in the hype.
Then on Sunday I went to see extremely hyped film, Michael Clayton, prepared to be disappointed despite (in fact because of) the critical drool it's inspired, but then another strange thing happened. It was an astonishing. I've little new to say about it, other than the fact that I am thankful there are movie stars like George Clooney around, ones who risk their movie star goodwill for films that our fat, dumb country won't go see. How long can that possibly last? As the writer's strike drags on, and an increasing emphasis is put on the bottom line (especially with b.s. fears that piracy is cutting into studio profits) how many movies for adults can we really expect in the coming years?
I'd been swept up in the hype.
Then on Sunday I went to see extremely hyped film, Michael Clayton, prepared to be disappointed despite (in fact because of) the critical drool it's inspired, but then another strange thing happened. It was an astonishing. I've little new to say about it, other than the fact that I am thankful there are movie stars like George Clooney around, ones who risk their movie star goodwill for films that our fat, dumb country won't go see. How long can that possibly last? As the writer's strike drags on, and an increasing emphasis is put on the bottom line (especially with b.s. fears that piracy is cutting into studio profits) how many movies for adults can we really expect in the coming years?
In the near term, at least, we have an adaptation of Ian McEwan's heart-strangling masterpiece; P.T. Anderson's latest opus, a reimagining of Upton Sinclair's Oil!; The Coen Brothers' adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's grim No Country for Old Men, for them a return to Blood Simple days; and a new work by Sidney Lumet. With the exception of the first, which likely will get the Titanic schmaltz treatment, none of these films will justify the cost of making them. For Hollywood then, what's the incentive not to make Saw V?
7 comments:
i think you've pretty much guaranteed that i'd hate michael clayton.
i'm interested in seeing american gangster. let me know what you think, if you're going to see that.
btw - have you seen the jay-z charlie rose interview? very entertaining. charlie held up much better than he did with russell simmons.
Oh, c4ts, I'm glad you liked Michael Clayton. I meant to ask you on Sunday (fun!) if you'd seen it. I loved it too. Interestingly, several intelligent non-lawyers (my future in-laws) disliked it, thinking it was predictable and formulaic. I think that's an odd critique; as with any film, it has a genre and conforms to that genre's rules, and was therefore somewhat predictable. But I wondered if their complete insulation from the NYC legal world contributed to their dissatisfaction.
E, I think you'd like it, actually. What, do you hate Clooney or something?
On American Gangster: wow, I had totally forgotten that Russell Crowe knows how to act. Generally gripping and well-made, but boy was it violent, and morally askew. It left me pessimistic and unsettled.
that jens experience was the OPPOSITE of mine... it was one of the best shows i've been to in years. he didn't play that tram song til he was off in some chicago apt (or so i learned from pitchfork).
if you enter the following in a google search you will find many hits:
jens lekman, trite
but most of them forgive him-- i certainly do.
Heidi, a challenge: You stop reading Pitchfork for a year, and I'll stop fighting with you about everything. Okay, who am I kidding? There's no way either of us have that kind of resolve.
molly, c4ts and i have agreed on two movies: eternal sunshine and mean girls. when i used netflix, i amused myself by comparing my movie ratings to his.
i actually don't like george clooney that much, but that's another discussion for another time. he was good in "out of sight" though.
I liked American Gangster, but I agree it was unsettling, plus it was too long and disjointed, it tried to do too much at once. But it is a story worth telling.
I liked Gone Baby Gone a lot better, speaking of people I didn't know could act, Casey Affleck (and Ed Harris), both excellent.
this is a very belated comment, but i just started listening to a jens lekman song, which was a part of a mix i have, and it actually made me ANGRY.
he sucks. NEXT!
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