Video of the Day: Chromeo Does Some “Fancy Footwork” on “Kimmel”
It’s as if the leg lamps from “Christmas Story” multiplied and took up the snare drum. This almost looks like the bottom half of a Robert Palmer video.
DVD Review: “Diva”
Rating: 89
The visual flash and patchwork storytelling of Jean-Jacques Beineix’ 1981 masterwork “Diva” not only influenced countless films directly, but established a template for stylish, artful filmmaking that is followed to this day. Beineix launched what became known as cinema du look with “Diva,” creating a world around his thriller that spoke to the life of outsiders in Francois Mitterand’s France, one that viewers wanted to inhabit and savor.
Jules (Frederic Andrei) is a postman who illegally tapes a performance by American opera singer Cynthia Hawkins (Wilhelmina Fernandez), a notorious recluse who has never recorded herself. “Diva” follows the action as Jules attempts to seduce Hawkins and Taiwanese bootleggers learn of the tape and try to steal it. Beineix’ then spins an intricate web of interlocking stories involving a Vietnamese shoplifter, a prostitute, a corrupt police chief, and shaven-headed assassin who dispatches his victims by throwing an awl into their backs.
Beineix went on to direct the cult classic “Betty Blue,” but never again matched the heights or influence of “Diva,” which left its imprint on the work of Luc Besson, Ridley Scott and countless other filmmakers who trade in arresting, shadowy imagery as calling cards. “Diva” might be an exercise in style over substance, but its style is beyond reproach.
Extras: New digital transfer, scene-by-scene audio commentary by Beineix, an interview with cinematographer Philippe Rousselot, and interviews with cast and crew.
Video of the Day: Joanna Newsom, “Sprout and the Bean.”
Joanna Newsom is best taken in small doses, but her possessed child vocals and exquisite harp playing combine to hypnotic effect on “Sprout and the Bean,” so far her only video.
Music Review: Coldplay, “Viva La Vida”
Rating: 82
Coldplay engendered such a ferocious backlash after its stadium ascent that now its backlash has a backlash. Critical recrimination against Chris Martin and his bandmates reached comic levels after “X&Y,” but the band’s fourth and best disc, “Viva La Vida,” shows the group pushing back with unusual daring. There are certainly surface changes thanks to the production and arrangements by Brian Eno and Markus Dravs, but there is far more at work on “Viva La Vida” than an art-rock makeover.
Martin actually sings in character on two songs. “Cemeteries of London” features the singer inhabiting a nocturnal lurker looking for the ghosts of drowned witches along the Thames, and he portrays a Spanish Inquisition missionary in the epic title centerpiece. Ever political but rarely on record, the band engages in allegory in “Violet Hill,” in which “the banks became cathedrals” and “the future’s architectured by a carnival of idiots on show.” These are far more sophisticated than the namby-pamby enabling of “Fix You.”
All that said, this is still the Coldplay that can seduce with its lush melodies — witness the heavenly sweep of the title song — but Eno and Dravs give the proceedings more subtlety and, when called for, toughness. This is most evident on the brittle “Lost,” which is dominated by pounding church organ and handclaps, and the Middle Eastern modalities that segue into dramatic, “Unforgettable Fire”-style murk on “Yes.” This is Coldplay breaking free of its pretty prison on “Viva La Vida,” proving it can transcend the style that became both blessing and curse.
“Soul Train” Changes Railways
“Soul Train” stopped rolling in 2006, but as of this week, longtime owner and onetime host Don Cornelius has sold the franchise to MadVision Entertainment, a production company partly owned by Ebony. According to the New York Times and Idolator, the plan is to create DVD packages and offer on-demand online viewing of classic episodes, with the possibility that new episodes could be in the show’s future.
Honestly, I don’t know how valuable new episodes would be — I have no great desire to see people dancing to Flo Rida — but watching classic “Soul Train” would be fun for the whole family.
Tony in L.A. recently showed me his copy of the “Midnight Special” DVDs, and it was valuable for seeing just how ugly you could be in the ’70s and still have hits — I’m looking at you and simultaneously averting my eyes, Todd Rundgren. But in the final season, when Burt Sugarman let the artists start lip-synching, it was no better than a typically lame episode of “Solid Gold.”
“Soul Train” was a lip-synching vehicle, but it’s main appeal was the dancing. If the new owners would open the vaults and we could see everything from 1970 through 2006, that would be an astounding resource for the history of popular dance. And, of course, fashion, because “Soul Train” was ground central for flammable clothing for about 12 years.
What are your favorite sources of wayback entertainment?
Random 10 for June 17, 2008
1. The Brunettes, “Small Town Crew.” Like most of The Brunettes’ oeurve, this is perfectly rendered pop music that radio doesn’t deserve. The video posits the question: if “King Kong” were remade with Heather Mansfield instead of an enormous ape, would the New Yorkers run away so quickly?
2. Flight of the Conchords, “Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenocerous.”
3. Evangelicals, “Midnight Vignette.”
4. Photocall, “Silver Clouds.”
5. Self, “Meg Ryan.”
6. CSS, “Alcohol.” The actual members sit this one out, replaced by stop action bunnies. This is a fairly standard video strategy: around the third video in an album’s promotion cycle, the band gets sick of doing the things and hires super-creative, non-hungover artists to design worthy stand-ins.
7. Of Montreal, “Voltaic Crusher/Undrum To Muted Da.”
8. The Essex Green, “Berlin.”
9. Santa Maria, “Every Time.”
10. Remy Shand, “Take a Message.” There’s an island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean where Remy Shand, Shea Seger and Maxwell are trapped, and the thing doesn’t show up on any geographical charts. And because of this, Robin Thicke has Remy Shand’s career.
Video of the Day: Mudhoney, “Touch Me I’m Sick”
Other bands got bigger and much bigger, but few could claim to be as definitive as Mudhoney. Superfuzz Bigmuff received a splendiferous re-release last month, and the band’s immediate predecessor, Green River, which featured future members of Mudhoney and Pearl Jam, reunites at the SP20 festival next month. “Touch Me I’m Sick” was and is Mudhoney’s signature, defiled only slightly in “Reality Bites” when it was recorded by Matt Dillon’s band with a slightly amended title.
Some Thoughts About Tim Russert
It’s not my thing professionally but on my own time, politics is my football. I get especially obsessive during election years, and when a colleague let me know on Friday that Tim Russert had died, I blurted out what can best be described as immediate shock profanity.
After hearing the news, my next thought was, “Well, what the hell do we do now?” Perhaps it was an inculcated Pavlovian idea brought on by continual exposure, but whenever anything happened on the campaign trail, I instantly wanted to hear Russert’s analysis. When he died of a cardiac thrombosis on Friday at age 58, I wondered who that person would be that could provide that analysis, and I still do not know.
My only issue with him was one that I have with some of his colleagues — Russert too readily booked “go-to” guests, which could get tiresome. What I truly liked about him was that he wasn’t a TV guy. I watched my first Russert “Meet the Press” installment in June or July 1992, and what first struck me about him was that he did not have the look or demeanor of someone who had trained for the job. In fact, he hadn’t — he was a political operative for New York’s Sen. Daniel Moynihan and Gov. Mario Cuomo — so it was as if one of the uncool kids had infiltrated student council.
But you don’t train to become somebody like him. You couldn’t invent Tim Russert, nor can NBC expect to do it now – that knowledge and likeability was purely his own. Sure, other people with similar backgrounds have gone to television and staked out similar territory, but they don’t have the oracle-like authority that Russert had.
His death threw me off balance — it will be odd going through the rest of this election cycle without Tim Russert’s gift for context. While there’s talk of David Gregory hosting “Meet the Press” and certainly NBC’s political director, Chuck Todd, is developing a rep as a solid analyst, replacing Tim Russert is an unreasonable expectation.
If you wonder why MSNBC would devote the lion’s share of its weekend coverage to Russert’s death, it’s not just because of the love and respect that his colleagues had for him. It’s also this: in his absence, NBC is asking the same question that went through my head on Friday. “Well, what the hell do we do now?”
There is no easy answer. You can replace lead anchors at the networks a lot easier than you can replace Tim Russert.
Random 10 for June 16, 2008
1. Dean and Britta, “You Turn My Head Around.” Yes, exactly. In this clip, Britta has a golden opportunity to hit Dmitri Martin with her bike, and yet she swerves. Tragedy.
2. Karen O and Kool Keith, “The Teaser.”
3. Martha Wainwright, “I Wish I Were.”
4. Ben Kweller, “I Gotta Move.”
5. David Mead, “Human Nature.” In the comments last week about The Bird and The Bee’s stunning cover of “How Deep Is Your Love,” Kev mentioned the sheer joy of hearing someone rehab a piece of cheese-pop. Here’s another fine example, although David Mead hardly has the kind of voice “that makes men slaves.” And “Human Nature” is a ripe piece of cheese. After all, without Jacko singing lead, this was a Toto song, and not just in the figurative sense. They wrote it, they played it.
6. Roy Ayers, “Coffy Baby.”
7. Super Furry Animals, “Fragile Happiness.”
8. Rilo Kiley, “It’s a Hit.”
9. The Besnard Lakes, “On Bedford and Grand.”
10. Brian Eno and David Byrne, “America is Waiting.” Over a quarter-century later, My Life in the Bush of Ghosts still sounds cutting edge. Glad to hear a sequel is in the offering.
Video of the Day: Sally Shapiro, “Jackie Jackie (Spend This Winter With Me)”
In classic postmodern form, there is not an actual Sally Shapiro — it’s the name of a duo featuring Swedish electro-pop marvel Johan Agebjorn and an anonymous singer. Agebjorn is heavily influenced by early electro by Italians such as Giorgio Moroder, and that’s evident in the metronomic, “Midnight Express”-style meter of “Jackie Jackie.”
