Eastwood’s always claimed a great affinity for music of pretty much every variety. His films attest to the fact – Bird being a particularly obvious instance. Less blatant, if you’re not really paying attention, is 1982’s Honkytonk Man, based on a novel penned by Clancy Carlile, who wrote his first novel in less than three weeks.
Joe Meek felt like he got screwed over by the record industry in England. And while he wasn’t exactly right about that, the producer and song writer scored a few big hits in addition to helming hundreds of dramatically unique recording sessions.
When the script for Suck first started getting sent around, looking for a production company or some sort of financial backing, there weren’t hordes of little kids day dreaming about disturbingly sexy vampires or waiting for another installment of whatever movie or television show.
Since 2005, when Suck was rejected out of hand a few times, this kitsch has gained a footing in the entertainment industry and perhaps provided an avenue for this film’s success.
Tim Blake Nelson, who pretty much everyone should be acquainted with as a result of his performance in the Coen Brothers’ O Brother, Where Art Thou?, wrote and directed this feature. And oddly enough, Blake-Nelson’s background, to a certain degree, mirrors that of the Coens. Each was brought up in a place – Minnesota and Oklahoma, respectively – that Jews aren’t really associated with. And both the Coens and Blake Nelson insert a bit of that into their films.
Keep in mind, this happened. And as the film figures during its opening titles, what transpires is based upon court testimony and its related transcripts. Creepy already, huh?
That being said, the impetus for the project might be as interesting as actually watching the film.
Anyone even remotely familiar with the machinations of a punk house, or any scene within a small community of people, should have understood what was going on in the movie. It should be noted that while the above writer decries the films characterization as plotless (kinda), there isn’t really anything that goes on. It’s just the viewer getting to watch the disintegration of a cohort.
A few years back Standing in the Shadows of Motown, a documentary focused on the Funk Brothers, was released and received pretty wide acclaim. It wasn’t the start of all these music documentaries being issued. But it was one of the first – if not the first – look at a crew of studio players and how that set up worked.
In that Detroit focused film, it becomes clear relatively early that the outcome of everyone’s life would eventually be affected negatively by the deals struck with Motown and subsequent exploitations. That might not be the fairest assessment of the situation – everyone had a contract. But the songs the Funk Brothers recorded are some of the most played tracks on the radio even today. And none of those musicians get any money for ‘em.
There’s no real reason for anything called the Raquel Welch Collection to exist apart from looking at the women. So, the fact that there’s sound on all of these movies is a bit beyond me. Maybe, we’ve all just been missing her keen acting ability for all this time.
If that’s the case, at least the marquee on this film should have juked a few folks into seats or DVD rental places – they still exist, right?
Either way, Mother, Jugs & Speed deals with the shady business side of the ambulance industry. You remember that Nicholas Cage movie with “T.B. Sheets” on the soundtrack. Yeah, this predates it by a few decades – and is unquestionably not as engaging. But what the plot lacks – and it lacks a great deal – it’s made up for with that crazy, cobbled together cast.
There’s nothing remarkably unique about the structure or content of Andrew Horn’s The Nomi Song, which focuses on Klaus Nomi’s brief ascent to stardom – even if it was only in Europe.
The standard, who was where at what time and what they saw is all still there. Of course, the fact that Nomi never became a huge star in the states, even if he briefly flirted with David Bowie’s cohort, really relegates most of the interviews to second tier status. It’s not that the folks seated for interviews weren’t interesting, it’s just that no one’s engaging in the way reminiscing stars are.
After punk showed up, freaked everyone out and found itself mutated in the public eye until it was New Wave, there was still a need for ‘the cultural other’ in movies. At such a late date, it had become culturally insensitive to pawn it off on black folks and homosexuals weren’t as completely vilified as they’d become until after everyone was aware of AIDS. So punks were the left overs capacious of terrifying straight audiences, looking weird and appearing to be wasted, even if they weren’t.
Viking Eggeling was cool, but Man Ray? Come on. This guy, apart from building miniature objects to photography and then developing the Ray-o-graph, was responsible for the earliest known experimental films. This one's from 1920....1920!!!
If the Marvel Universe wasn’t a part of your childhood, then you might not be a real American – or at least one affixed the general mainstream of the country. The Marvel world as rendered by Stan Lee and his cohort’s gone so far as to impact pretty much every medium of culture this country – and the world at this point – has to offer. Apart from being in print form, it’s on TV, in movies (natch), on clothing and in toy stores. There’re even probably a few places I neglected to mention.
That’s why the first Hulk movie was such a disappointment. It stunk. Visually, the film wasn’t stunning or even really too well put together. And while the first Iron Man movie did well in the box office, having Robert Downey Jr. in there as the leading man still seems bizarre.
At this late date, On the Waterfront occupies a peculiar space in popular culture – hopefully, it’ll become more bizarre after reading this.
Apart from the fact that the 1954 film being considered a towering achievement in post war work in features, it stars Marlon Brando at what most consider to be the peak of his career. Certainly there were early appearances the act might have touted as the pinnacle of his filmography. But The Godfather and Apocalypse Now were still to come a few decades on.