Author: Ryan

  • Everyone hates The Docks…

    … even Belle & Sebastian, apparently. A couple comments from their Tour Q&A page:

    Stevie: Yeah the venue was terrible, I’m really sorry, I’m actually really pissed off the truth be known. We won’t be back.

    Sarah: I think it would be ok with a third less people in it, but I’m sure we will do whatever we can to play somewhere a bit less long and thin where we can see all the audience and they can see us if they choose to.

    There’s also the near-unanimous agreement on the Docks’ crumminess on the B&S forum.

    Seriously, who on earth thinks this is a good place to see a band? Least of all when it’s booked to capacity (and beyond?).

    I’m distressed that I still seem to be wrought with bile after seeing one of my favourite bands.

  • PopMatters Review: DC Universe: The Stories of Alan Moore

    DC’s collection of 1980s Alan Moore miscellany:

    DC Universe: The Stories of Alan Moore should put to rest the notion that Moore harbors any particular animosity towards the spandex set. While he may have since outgrown the genre, Moore wrote many stories in the mid-eighties featuring some of the biggest icons DC had to offer — as well as some lesser lights — and what shines through is a genuine affection for many characters in their original, outlandish forms. If there’s any scorn and derision to be found, it’s directed towards those who failed to take advantage of the limitless possibilities of the superhero genre.

    The Full Review.

  • Belle & Sebastian @ The Docks, Feb. 25

    First, a public safety announcement: At all costs, avoid going to any concerts at The Docks in Toronto. First, it’s inconvenient: The TTC doesn’t go anywhere near it, so you either need a car, cab fare, or boots that are made for walking. Thankfully we managed to get a ride with a friend, but that doesn’t make it entirely better: Drive up the road to the club and you pass a parking lot; pass that one, and you come to a second lot, right next to the club. That lot, however, was full, and at no point was there a person and/or sign to say “Lot ahead full – park here!” at the first lot. Consequently, everyone drove to the end of the road, had to turn around, and then drive back to the first lot, which was now seeing people trying to get in from both directions.

    Walking from the lot to the club wasn’t too bad, and the time taken getting there and parking seems to have allowed the line to dissipate. There are about 20 opportunities to slip on ice, and the lineup seems to go around a corner and across a flight of stairs – god knows how many people have decent grounds for a lawsuit.

    The facility itself is designed with a dance club in mind, and consequently is atrocious for actual concerts. It’s a long, rectangular room, with the stage at one end. The quality of view suffers quickly the further you move back, so nearly everyone wants to be as close to the front as possible. The problem is compounded by the sound board smack in the middle, which creates a bottleneck on either side – good luck trying to get in or out. It was also divided into drinking and underage sections, which necessitated a line of fences down the middle, with only one entrance and one exit – both of which were at the very back of the club. The overall effect is that if you want a good spot, you need to get there several hours before the show, line up, run to the front of the club, and not give up your spot at all.

    Let’s not even talk acoustics. Not the worst, but the sound guy seemed to be trying randomly positioning dials and knobs in a desperate attempt to get a solid, consistent sound. Yay for actually miking Sarah and her violin properly (last time I saw Belle, I could barely hear a word she sang), but nay for being unable to understand any on-stage banter.

    The band was still their usual fantastic selves. They played a mix of the new album, The Life Pursuit, and older material, with a particular emphasis on the all-time classic If You’re Feeling Sinister. For the first show of the first tour of new material, the new songs were pretty good: Suki in the Graveyard was particularly fun, and White Collar Boy did well.

    But with Belle, it’s almost always the old songs that tug at the heart and get the blood flowing. Aside from the emphasis on Sinister – including an encore of Me and the Major and the beloved Get Me Away From Here I’m Dying, they trotted out some oldies from Tigermilk: She’s Losing It and, most surprisingly, Electronic Renaissance. Arab Strap was bypassed entirely, but Fold Your HandsWoman’s Realm made an appearance, as did EP tracks Loneliness of a Middle Distance Runner and the funk-tastic Your Cover’s Blown.

    But despite the wonderful band playing the lovely songs, the feeling of “I don’t want to be here” continued to build throughout the show. On top of the crummy view and so-so acoustics, people kept talking during songs – really, who pays $40 to see a band and then doesn’t even bother listening? If there’s one experience I don’t want to repeat, it’s watching and listening to one of my favourite bands in the world while thinking “I totally fucking hate this place.”

    My temptation to bail before the encore was strong, but I resisted it and was rewarded for my perseverance with Get Me Away From Here I’m Dying, one of my all-time favourites.

    It was all worth it. It’s just not worth doing it ever, ever again.

    Oh, and the New Pornographers opened. They’re okay. Fun, but a bit to hygienic and somewhat homogenous. As far as openers go, they’re okay.

  • Night Watch (Nochnoi Dozor)

    I admit to being a sucker for epic battles between good and evil. It appeals to the romantic in me, the 12 year-old who still wants to run off to a far-off kingdom, slay evil wizards, and woo beautiful princesses. The same goes for vampires, really – it’s just such a great premise when it’s done correctly; immortal life, eerie powers, dark and mysterious warriors.

    I’m by no means alone in these affections, which doubtless explains the enormous number of books and movies about these subjects. Sadly, most of them are awful, based on a cool idea or two with little in the way of emotion or intelligence involved. Underworld, to name just one, was such a great-looking movie with a fascinating premise that it was quite disappointing when one realized how little thought went into the plot and characters.

    Night Watch, the first of a Russian-made trilogy, at least tries to get it right. Adapted from a series of books (the first of which is only seeing an English translation this June), it sees a vast war of good and evil, of the supernatural Others, being waged in the streets of Moscow.

    Anton is unwittingly awakened to the struggle between Light Others and Dark Others when he visits a psychic in a last-ditch attempt to win back his girlfriend, who has left him for another man. When he sees what is really going on, and the Others recognize him as one of their own, he joins the cause of the Light.

    Twelve years later, he’s trying to protect a young boy following the lure of two vampiric Dark Others. When the boy is revealed to be more than he seems, and a seemingly unstoppable curse vortex begins to form over an apartment building, the two sides realize the Apocalypse may be near.

    Night Watch is immediately remarkable for its visual style. Like David Fincher, Timur Bekmambetov uses CGI to pan through walls, zoom through subway cars, and generally take the camera anywhere he chooses. One particularly nice sequence sees a bolt shaking loose from an airplane, falling several thousand feet, and clattering down a ventilation shaft. The visual effects are taken even further, though, with characters half-disappearing into blood vessels and cells, as well as traces of blood following characters around. The most interesting visual effect is largely a product of the North American release: The subtitles are frequently given a life of their own, changing colour, appearance, even placement as the scene dictates. The vampire calls fade away into red, panic scatters words across the screen, words spoken by an injured man fade in and out. It’s a fascinating innovation that might have some luck in converting those who find subtitles frustrating to read.

    There’s also a strong resemblance to the films of Terry Gilliam and Jean-Pierre Jeunet: While the world of Night Watch is dark and disturbing, it’s also quite whimsical from time to time. Anton’s backup team and their super-powered truck are particularly odd, while a curse-fuelled string of coincidences could come almost directly from Jeunet’s Amelie or Very Long Engagement. There’s a dark sense of humour to the film, a recognition that while everything is quite serious, it’s still a film about psychics and shapeshifters fighting vampires with juiced-up flashlights.

    As the first part of a trilogy and the adaptation of a book, Night Watch doesn’t quite stand on its own. Not unlike the Harry Potter films, one gets the impression that there are a good many things that are either meant to be explained later, or are simply reference points for fans of the books. Anton’s partner, Olga, for example, is given a great introduction, a hint of a dark past, and is then pretty much ignored for the rest of the film. The ending, too, suffers from a feeling of too much editing, or an attempt to cram too much in. The curse plot is fascinating up until the end, at which point it doesn’t seem to have much, if any payoff.

    Still, Night Watch wins points for it’s unabashed ambition in creating a huge and complex world, full of characters that are obviously loaded with backstory even if it’s not always fully explained. While there are a number of holes and loose ends, it leads one to anticipate the sequel (Day Watch, already released in Russia), read the book, or hope for a director’s cut of the film. It’s not a perfect film, but it’s a hypnotic and addictive one with a clear and well-defined vision that offers a lot of promise for the future.

  • Dare to be Stupid

    You better put all your eggs in one basket
    You better count your chickens before they hatch
    You better sell some wine before it’s time
    You better find yourself an itch to scratch

    Dare to be stupid
    Come on and dare to be stupid
    It’s so easy to do
    Dare to be stupid
    We’re all waiting for you
    Let’s go

    I thought there was a line in there about quitting your current job before finding a new one, but perhaps not.

    Bold decision, or suicidal career folly? Results in two months.

    Stay Tuned.

  • Popmatters: The Collected Demo

    Review #2 over at Popmatters.

    Brian Wood and Becky Cloonan’s Demo continues the trend of speaking to the losers and outcasts of the world. But instead of Stan Lee’s nerds and wallflowers, Wood and Cloonan tell the stories of punk and emo kids, people living on the fringes of society who aren’t terribly worried about being let in. It’s a darker, more realistic world than the one of superheroes, one in which misunderstood youngsters with unusual abilities are offered neither the kind hand of Professor X nor the seductive temptations of Magneto.

    And yes, I know: People who start blogs and then abandon them suck. More to come this week.

  • Envy!

    Bryan O’Malley has posted the final cover art for Scott Pilgrim and the Infinite Sadness. It is nice:

    He also predicts a March release. This pleases me.

  • Coming Soon to Solo

    In an interview with Publishers Weekly, DC editor Mark Chiarello talks about the wonderful artistic anthology Solo and some of the upcoming authors:

    Coming up are Berni Wrightson, Brian Stelfreeze, Jill Thompson, Scott Hampton, Sergio Aragones, Brendan McCarthy Kevin Nowlan, Jose Luis Garcia Lopez and George Pratt.

    That’s generally a pretty impressive lineup – all along, it’s been nice to see that DC has recruited more experienced storytellers instead of Michael Turner Explains Anatomy – but the highlight has got to be Brendan McCarthy. I’m still in the process of tracking down more of his work (just found a copy of Rogan Gosh on eBay, but the man is insanely talented. He’s apparently quite a good storyteller on his own – he’s done designs and storyboards for films – but we have to assume the’ll be at least one or two appearances by Peter Milligan. These two have been apart for far too long.

    Better than the Mike Allred issue? Probably not. But it certainly promises some crazy excellence.

  • The Academy Awards Develop a Sense of Humour

    The nominations for Best Picture:

    • Brokeback Mountain
    • Capote
    • Crash
    • Good Night, Good Luck
    • Munich

    In 2006, apparently “Best Picture” has been redefined to include films which had some good points, but were otherwise self-indulgent, meandering, predictable, or otherwise just plain bad.

    As good as Phillip Seymour Hoffman was, he wasn’t enough to make Capote into a really strong film. It was a character piece, and a very good one, but not a great film. (Meanwhile: Catherine Keener for a Supporting Actress? I love her, but come on; she was on screen for about 20 minutes, and had about two scenes that mattered.)

    Crash: Let’s talk about race for two and a half hours. You know what Black people are like. And Hispanics and Asians, they’re just wacky. Isn’t it funny how we’re all racist, whether we know it or not, and it affects every single thing we say and do? Magnolia is one of my favourite films of all time, but between this and Love Actually, it’s got a lot to answer for.

    Munich: What happened to Steven Spielberg? The man with the perfect eye for action obviously did some work on this film, but he seems to have been kidnapped during production and replaced by his low-cost Mexican equivalent who is utterly incapable of ending a movie properly.

    Lastly: Hollywood just doesn’t deserve Naomi Watts.