TIME TO ANNOUNCE THE WINNERS OF THE 2010 PENGUIN AWARDS. While this year has been the most difficult due to the extreme mediocrity of the music scene at the moment, I have managed to scrape together several winners.
SONG OF THE YEAR:
GONE TO SHILOH by Elton John & Leon Russell featuring Neil Young
ALBUM OF THE YEAR:
GENUINE NEGRO JIG by Carolina Chocolate Drops
DUET OF THE YEAR:
BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER by Mary J. Blige & Andrea Boccelli
COVER SONG OF THE YEAR:
WHOLE LOTTA LOVE by Mary J. Blige
The song of the year GONE TO SHILOH was indeed a very haunting one and received a couple reader votes. However, the simple fact is that it won because there really wasn't anything good enough to top it. The album of the year was a different story as Carolina Chocolate Drops' GENUINE NEGRO JIG was far and away the most listened to album in my player owing to the rich variety of song choices and virtuoso performances. Runner-up was probably Broken Bells then V.V. Brown followed closely by Melody Gardot and Sade. Duet of the Year BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER won by virtue of a goosebump-raising vocal performance. However, the cover song of the year winner WHOLE LOTTA LOVE was truly the surprise. Mary's "Stairway To Heaven" was the one she performed all over the place and the one which got all the press. However the "b-side" of the single was this version of WHOLE LOTTA LOVE which fulfills one of my cardinal rules concerning covers: it should bring something new to the table. . .and this one did. Now, I love Led Zeppelin and always have -- but WHOLE LOTTA LOVE has never been one of my favourites. In fact, I usually skip past it if it's on the radio and I don't even have it in my ipod. Mary J. Blige's version whips it up into a whole new groove which brings the grossly overplayed song new life. It's quite a feat when you make a cover version which is better than the original -- and this one frankly is in my opinion. This is the only version I'll be listening to. So there youse has it: the somewhat underwhelming 2010 Penguin Awards. Click this link to hear a sampling of them. Let's hope next year we find some artists getting off their duffs and concocting some REALLY GOOD MUSIC! I can't take another year like this one!
That's right, I have added another feature over there on the right hand column (below the dead people and my Library Thing). What I will be posting there is a favourite comic book cover of the past. Sometimes it will be shown because it is one of my favourite issues and sometimes it will just be pictured because it's boss cover art I've always loved regardless of what's in the actual issue. For instance, this cover is not featured because it's a particularly great cover but because it's probably the first real superhero comic book I ever bought new off the newstand. Before that I had picked up older comic books with their covers torn off at the Pennsauken Mart but had never (for some reason) bought a new issue hot off the presses. So when I was a kid, I used to spend a lot of weekends at my grandparents' huge old Victorian house on Westfield Avenue in Pennsauken (I've written about this before). Often my grandmother and I would walk all the way up Westfield Avenue to Thor's Drug Store where I would usually pick up my favourite Black Jack gum, some "You'll Die Laughing" bubble gum cards, a paperback book of Charles Shultz's Peanuts, an issue of Cracked or Mad Magazine and some comic books which were usually of the Gold Key, Harvey or Archie variety (i.e. Madhouse Glads, Boris Karloff's Tales of Mystery, The Occult Files of Dr. Spektor, Donald Duck or Richie Rich & Jackie Jokers). However, the first superhero comic I can remember picking up is this one: Justice League of America #120 which I read and re-read millions of times outside on the hammock in my grandparents' backyard. The story was continued in the next issue and I was actually diligent enough to pick up the story's conclusion the next month when it came out. So this cover is posted because of the issue itself. I'll try to choose my next one because of the spectacular cover art. One final note: if you click on the cover photo, you will be able to see it in a larger image. Enjoy.
As usual at this time of year, I look back at those notable celebrities who have stepped on a rainbow this year. Please visit our sister audio blog 
"And when your children's children think themselves alone in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent, and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land. You will never be alone."
CHEQUES, LIES AND VIDEOTAPE is a wonderful half-hour documentary which really brings alive the spirit and experience of these former childhood DOCTOR WHO nuts and the exquisite pain of searching and waiting for some precious find. The point is made, of course, how easy today's fans have it -- the usual "old folks" grumble -- with the ready availability of practically everything on DVD and the internet. However, these older fans do not begrudge the kids of today and, in fact, assert that they would've much preferred to have the same embarrassment of riches available to them when they were growing up. Of course, they also make the point that there is something to be said for the exquisite yearning and waiting for the publication of the Christmas Doctor Who Annual or the keen anticipation of that underground pirate video arriving through the mail slot. I too would've loved to have today's easy access to all media when I was a kid. But one does feel that perhaps it's now too easy and fans today are missing something which made each find so very, very rare and special. If you have even the slightest interest in DOCTOR WHO, or science fiction, horror or any other fantasy genre then you have just gotta see this documentary on the DOCTOR WHO: REVENGE OF THE CYBERMEN dvd. Put it in your video queue. But not right away. Make yourself wait a little first so you can savour the anticipation!
Happy Thanksgiving Yanks and welcome to the noms. Without further ado I'd like to present in no particular order:
STRONGER WITHEACH TEAR - Mary J. Blige
SOLDIER OF LOVE - Sade
MY ONE AND ONLY THRILL - Melody Gardot
POINTING AT THE SUN - Cheryl Wheeler
THE UNION - Elton John & Leon Russell
BROKEN BELLS - Broken Bells
TOGETHER - The New Pornographers
TRANSFERENCE - Spoon
TRAVELLING LIKE THE LIGHT - V.V. Brown
THE LIVE ANTHOLOGY - Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
When it first came out, JACKIE BROWN was viewed as something of a letdown after QT had set the world on fire with his Oscar-winning (and Oscar-nominated for Best Picture) PULP FICTION. Personally, I always viewed RESERVOIR DOGS as the better film and the true "ground-breaker" with PULP FICTION merely more of the same. Be that as it may, Tarantino's knowing pop culture references and "homages", his use of sudden, horrific violence, his masterly choice of soundtrack music and his deft dialogue were the talk of the (tinsel)town. Inevitably, very soon after Hollywood bows at your feet, the backlash sets in and the knives come out; Hollywood "insiders" waited with Ides of March-like daggers to see what QT would do next. Seriously, it was a no-win situation. Critics and audiences constantly moan that they want something different but, when they get it, usually trash it because it's "not what they expected from so-and-so". But if Tarantino had given us all PULP FICTION 2 (in spirit if not in name), he would have been pilloried and would've long since disappeared from the movie-making scene. So first, Quentin took a pause -- a good couple years -- and wisely, I think, did give us something different -- and better. David Del Valle, 
It was just starting -- you known, the spectacular opening scene with Pam Grier floating along an airport causeway to the strains of "Across 110th Street". Well, I thought "Oh cool, Jackie Brown's on" and continued channel-surfing. But by the time I zipped through the rest of the 300+ cable channels, I ended up back on JACKIE BROWN and watched it to its conclusion. I can't say the same would happen if I'd come across RESERVOIR DOGS or PULP FICTION.
It is quite wrong to think of JACKIE BROWN as Tarantino's homage to blaxploitation films -- unless you've never seen blaxploitation films. If you had, you'd know right away that JACKIE BROWN is nothing like all the blaxploitation films we know and love. No, this film is Tarantino's homage to Pam Grier herself. He presented this film to her like a supplicant at the altar of Athena. In fact, Grier famously auditioned for PULP FICTION and was turned down by Quentin because he had bigger plans for her and told her to wait -- in much the same (if upside down) way Fritz Lang told Peter Lorre not to make a movie until Lang had something "truly big" for him; 
From the long discussion in which Samuel L. Jackson's Ordell Robbie talks Chris Tucker's Beaumont into the trunk of the car, we know what's going to happen to him (or at least have a strong suspicion). As Hitchcock once explained, it's telling the audience there is a bomb under the chair and then making them sit there and wait for it to go off. However, there's more here than that. Once Beaumont is in the trunk, the camera pulls back to a far shot and the rest of the scene plays out from a distance (to the strains of "Strawberry Letter 23"). Now, I don't know if Jackson himself was in the car driving but the use of time, of pauses and non-pauses, is jewel-like. Jackson shuts the trunk and climbs back into the driver's seat. He turns the key in the ignition, the tape of "Strawberry Letter 23" starts up and the camera pulls away to a "safe distance". The car is driven, not in a straight line, but in a curving arc. Robbie is not nervous, not rushed. He's taking his good old time. The brakes are hit; we see them from our position now behind the car. The "overheard" music from inside the distant car fades out as the car turns. Then the car comes back into our field of view and the music fades back in too. The car turns in and parks now somewhere over there. Robbie emerges (still from a great distance, now), walks around to the back of the car, opens the trunk and fires the gun at the hapless Beaumont. Trunk closes, Robbie gets back in the car and drives off. Really, the scene plays like a song itself. That's just one instance of the multitude of deft touches Tarantino brings to the film. And JACKIE BROWN is full to overflowing of such scenes. 
I first fell in love with Pam Grier sometime in the mid-70's, I guess. Or maybe a tad bit earlier. Probably summertime when I had the run of the neighbourhood. I went to the movie theatre that was in the local mall and got a ticket for whatever was playing. However, I soon lost interest and snuck out of that movie and into the one next door. Lucky me, there was a Pam Grier movie playing. I have no recollection now which one it was (especially since I snuck in after the main titles and missed them) but I'm sure it was probably something like FRIDAY FOSTER or SHEBA, BABY or maybe even the beloved FOXY BROWN. These were the more relaxed 1970's so nobody came along and chucked me out of the theatre for being a 10 year old in a movie which probably featured Pam Grier getting her kit off. But from that moment to this, I've regarded Pam Grier as the bee's knees in the cat's pajamas! So, I was naturally pre-disposed to appreciate exactly what Quentin Tarantino appreciated in Pam Grier and why he wanted to make this movie for her. She was a strong role model who didn't take no stuff but she was also extremely feminine and stunningly beautiful; she had a sense of humour and she had a brain and a conscience. Dream Woman 101. So now, here she was in JACKIE BROWN but she was certainly not COFFY and would not have razor blades in her afro. No, Jackie Brown was a 44 year old flight attendant working for the lowest of the low cheapo airline; she was tired, she was jaded, she had seen life. However, when pushed or cornered the fire in her eye would be revealed -- maybe dimmer from age but still kindled. No, there were not a lot of gunfights and gore in JACKIE BROWN but instead there was a lot of what Tarantino is really known for: dialogue and characterisation. 
As Dave Sim once said, David Byrne was right when he called his group the Talking Heads because there is very little that is more interesting or involving that two people talking to each other. Car chases and fight scenes can get samey and actually dull; the real meat is when characters reveal themselves through dialogue. LONG DAY'S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT has nary an explosion but it's much more gripping than, say, IRON MAN 2! No, JACKIE BROWN is certainly not too slow or too long; in fact I'd say it's the perfect length without a single second that drags. And as I've said it's not an homage to blaxploitation films; in fact, it's an exploration of the humanity of the characters in all their faults and foibles, deceits and kindnesses. And it is also, in the performances of Pam Grier and Robert Forster (both giving the best performances of their lives), a very damn well effective meditation on what it's like getting older -- but still harbouring that younger you somewhere deep inside. I always loved the film but perhaps, now that I am the same age as Jackie Brown in the film, I'm beginning to see that angle much more clearly now than when I first saw the film in the late-90's. As for that cast, it's sheer magic. 
Robert Forster gives an incredibly nuanced, moving performance and Pam Grier is almost as great. 
Samuel L. Jackson plays Robbie as a dandy, yes, but he also has a genuine frightening menace which he did not display in PULP FICTION. Robert DeNiro plays the role of a loser wonderfully and its probably the last actual acting he's done in his career. 
Bridget Fonda immerses herself in the self-absorbed, petty surfer girl; her constant badgering of DeNiro during and after the "caper" are stunningly annoying and one can almost understand why DeNiro does what he does. In these three roles, Jackson, DeNiro and Fonda are not afraid to play unlikeable. To their credit. Of course, Ordell Robbie being the most evil character requires Jackson to also bring that immense charm that's needed for the role as well. Michael Keaton is also surprisingly effective as the twitchy but amiable cop. There's really not a dud performance in the film anywhere in the extensive supporting cast from Tiny Lister's bail-bonds "enforcer" to Sid Haig's cameo as a judge (brought in nicely from his many co-starring roles in Pam Grier's 70's films). 
As David Del Valle also points out, JACKIE BROWN is a movie than can be watched over and over and the viewer will get more out of it each time -- sometimes new things one missed the first time around. That's happened with me and that's happened with most others I've talked to about the film (including Pam's old blaxploitation co-star Sid Haig with whom I spoke briefly about the film in 2003 and who felt it was underappreciated). And David Del Valle says that's the very definition of a classic. Who am I to argue? Thankfully, it seems the critics are now finally coming around to our point of view. Thanks, folks. What took you so long?!? And if you, gentle reader, have never seen JACKIE BROWN. . .you owe it to yourself to watch it. And if you haven't seen it for quite some time, you owe it to yourself to watch it again. Go ahead, gang. You're good people. You deserve a treat. As for my ranking of QT's films, here goes:
A job applicant comes in for an interview as a houseman (it's for a hotel, dammit). Things go fine until we come to the question: "Have you ever been convicted of a felony crime". "Well, yes I have," says the applicant whom we will call Herman because that's not his name. "Oh, well thank you for being so honest." Herman says he'll write down on a piece of paper the name of his conviction and explains that he was arrested for being drunk while riding a bicycle. As Herman hands the paper over, this is the crime which he wrote down: "Mister Meaners".
OK, a wonderfully silly but interesting addition to the myth. But now, on to the documentary. Sadly, sadly, sadly, the voice of George Harrison is so obviously NOT him that it fatally undermines any willing suspension of disbelief. I have personally seen countless interviews and documentaries featuring George Harrison; I'm fairly familiar with his voice and this just ain't him. The person doing the George Harrison "impression" is fairly good, I suppose, but he betrays himself by not only speaking in a Liverpudlian accent which waveringly comes and goes but also by using one or two Americanisms that no Englishman would use. Also, I happen to own a mini-cassette recorder almost identical to the one shown in the photo as having arrived in the package. The sound is, well, fairly atrocious and the recorder is only meant for dictation purposes. However, the sound of "George Harrison's voice" on the documentary (which provides narration for the entire movie) is clearly recorded on professional-sounding audio equipment; no amount of "sonic tweaking" could've made the micro-cassette recording sound THIS good! All this really pushes the "documentary" from the realm of "conspiracy theory" clear over the cliff into satire; are we really meant to take this documentary seriously?!? I can't imagine anyone but the most gullible person buying the truth of what's being said. 
