Bustin Down The Door

First off, I know what you’re thinking… it’s May 1st. Marketing campaigns reach all of us. But why spend perfectly good just-earned-salary-check money  on seeing Wolverine on opening weekend when you can wait ’til Discount Tuesday (less crowded and no pre-teens kicking the back of your chair repeatedly while screaming asinine comments for 2 hours straight) and in the mean time rent the flick below? Just a really good thought.

“What have you done for forty-five years?” It’s a question that is posed to you in Jeremy Gosch’s documentary about the revolution of the stance of surfing in 1975 on Hawaii’s North Shore.

Taking into account that this is a film about surfing, which lends itself to the association with the likes of films such as Endless Summer, Blue Crush, and Point Break (Though I have nothing but obsessed love for Point Break), Bustin Down the Door commands an entirely different side of your mind (i.e., the side that isn’t high on, ahem, ‘life’). Be it the beauty of the storyline, the power of these men’s passions, or the concept of a sporting legend created by a handful of men, this film demands your full attention; so none of that getting up to use the loo or heat up more popcorn once you’ve pressed play.

It’s always awe-inspiring to witness people pushing their own dreams to the limit. And the men at the heart of this film (Wayne “Rabbit” Bartholomew, Shaun Tomson, and Mark Richards) did exactly that, and not just against themselves – which would have been tricky enough – but against society as well.  The film illustrates how they set up pro-surfing to be the billion dollar industry that it is today; Kelly Slater best send them a thank you note and perhaps a slice of his endorsement checks.

Personally, I have always been a fan of documentaries. They ensnare you from the start in a completely different manner than any narrative film can. And the best part is you cannot walk away from these films and go, “Well, it was just a movie.” Because it’s not. That revelation allows you to truly connect with these people despite the boundaries of celluloid. Narrated by Ed Norton (You may be asking yourself: what is this hard-core method actor doing narrating a surf film? If you only knew what he’s done for the surf community as a whole–advocated for the age of pro-surfers to drop below 7, personally rescued over 13 surfers from shark attacks and is currently in plans for the inaugural Ed Norton Pipeline Open), the film is complete with an inevitable generous amount of spectacular surf footage juxtaposed with interviews of these surf titans looking back on their heyday with a striking sense of nostalgia and at times, ruefulness. The 1975 shots taken with Super 8 cameras are in mint condition and provide some of the more memorable moments of the film showcasing the camaraderie amongst these men even as they are just lounging about on the beaches and chasing after girls.

With such an interesting cast of characters and a slew of unique events surrounding the professional start of the sport by a few brash boys from Australia and South Africa, this film stands out amongst a sea (pun intended) of films and documentaries.

Revolutionary Road, the book

Recommendation: REVOLUTIONARY ROAD by RICHARD YATES

My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Matulia, was a literature nut. Especially for being a fourth grade teacher. She was crazy fun and loved to tell stories about her sons, which naturally would bore a class of ten-year olds to death but the fact that her eldest, Matt, was in our grade and just one room over, left us all salivating for any juicy tidbits she could throw our way.

Now, I bring up Mrs. Matulia for a reason. One Friday, we were talking about a movie that was coming out that weekend and how everyone in class was DESPERATE to see it (I can’t be sure exactly what film it was, but something  tells me it was Jurassic Park) and Mrs. Matulia told us that Matt was not allowed to see it. An eerie silence took over the room, followed by quick whispers of “Matt cant see the movie? Oh my god, Matt cant see the movie. I have to tell Susie.” (Susie, age 10, “girlfriend” of Matt for 3 days) . Finally, we were told that neither Matt nor his brother were allowed to see any movie versions before they read the book.  Books were always better, she said. I remember being floored at this insanity. And how was Matt going to read the book before the weekend was over?

Needless to say, Matt didn’t see the film by Monday.

The idea that books are always better was pretty hard to believe when I was ten, but 15 years later I now know it to be cold hard fact.

So, when Sam Mendes’ take on Revolutionary Road came out this Winter, I knew what I had to do. Rush to the theatre to see the film version and ignore all rules set forth by my fourth grade teacher. Come on! It’s Sam Mendes and Kate and Leo reunited.

But after countless failed attempts to get a ticket due to late nights at work, friends and family visits, I finally realized that 4th grade lessons were still able to bite me in the bum. So, I buckled and bought the book.  Less than a week later, here I am recommending it.

Revolutionary Road is a fantastic character study of a young couple living through the hell that was America’s suburbia in the 1950s. Frank and April Wheeler are a bright, young, talented and handsome couple with two kids and a yard. They live their lives under the illusion that the discovery of their own greatness is right around the corner of their menial existence.

Richard Yates has composed a symphony of how these characters sell their dreams and “betray not only each other but their best selves.”  Each scene seems to flow together in a melodic rhythm creating what Kurt Vonnegut calls “the Great Gatsby of my time.” Tennessee Williams even said of the novel, “here is more than fine writing; here is what added to fine writing, makes a book come immediately, intensely, and brilliantly alive.”

So, Mrs. Matulia strikes again. The book is a fantastic read, a classic. And now that I have read it, I can speedily go buy that ticket for $12.0o and go support Mr. Mendes, his wife and Mr. DiCaprio (who even without seeing the film, I believe were robbed by the Oscars… but thats another story).

Kevin Devine

Artist Recommenation:

Kevin Devine is probably my new favorite Brooklyn artist.  I was introduced to him when I first moved to the big bad city and ever since he has managed to make his way onto every playlist I create. If the music scene is about sharing good artists and spreading their worth via word of mouth, that is what I have been doing with Kevin Devine. It just so happens the one time I was able to make it to the Bowery Ballroom to see him live, my sister and I ran so late we missed his act but we did get to spill beer on the boys from Gossip Girl just before they made it big. I assume they were there because a British rock band came on after and Ed Westwick is a British front man, but  of course those are just details. And a horribly bad side note.

As a singer-songwriter, Kevin Devine is known for introspective and political lyrics that flow nicely over his melodic acoustic guitar sounds. His music is part of the indie-rock persuasion category but obviously he falls into the ‘boy with guitar’ scene. Even so, I think he can easily climb anyone’s ladder under that tent.  His sound is a bit similar to Death Cab for Cutie and Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes.  “Put Your Ghost To Rest” is his fourth album, released under Capital Records, and he is getting ready to release a fifth, “Brothers Blood.”

Anywho, I truly think Kevin Devine is one of the cooler acts out there right now.    As I still haven’t figured out how to post sample songs, do check out the video below (I can manage that, apparently). If you like what you see,  and want to download more, some favorite songs of mine include: Trouble, Just Stay, Go Haunt Someone Else.

St. Patrick’s Day on Long Island

I should know better than to read Newsday.

As I’ve said before, I’ve spent a good bit of time living on Long Island. This is unfortunate, but it’s fact. Newsday is Long Island’s daily newspaper. It used to have the best sports section in New York. That’s why I’d read it.

Now Newsday’s sports section is three pages long because they’ve laid off shitloads of staffers. It sucks. I don’t even bother anymore.

Recently, I picked up a copy of Newsday and started reading. I don’t know why I did this. I really should know better.

Why?

Because this is an example of horrendously lazy reporting. You’re given an assignment to find a handful of bars where people can find St. Patrick’s Day promotions, so you think of all the bars on Long Island that have Irish names. You call the most famous one and ask them what they’re doing for the day.

They tell you they’re featuring corned beef and cabbage. Then they tell you a Billy Joel cover band is performing. Then, instead of realizing you can do better, you say to yourself, “That sounds like St. Patrick’s Day to me!”

Also, please stop calling it “St. Patty’s Day.” First off, the Irish shortening of Patrick, or Padraig, is “Paddy.” Secondly, none of you knew St. Patrick well enough to be so familiar.

Corned beef, cabbage and Billy Joel. Long Island fucking sucks, man.

Social Media

Can you think of the sports equivalent of the spouses of buddies whose Facebook friend-request you accepted who constantly update their status on the topic of taking care of their kids? Like “Jenn is watching her little ones nap” and “Sarah is playing ‘Bob the Builder’ with her kids! Yay!” As a 27-year-old unmarried man, it’s not that I don’t appreciate females or motherhood, it’s just that I don’t care. For the same reason that I don’t update my status with “Matt just went 4-6 with 9 RBIs in softball.”

Wouldn’t the sports equivalent be like ending up with an undesirable throw-in for an NBA trade (aka Marcus Banks)? The more interesting angle for me is how Twitter and Facebook reflect where our writing is going thanks to the Internet. In 15 years, writing went from “reflecting on what happened and putting together some coherent thoughts” to “reflecting on what happened as quickly as possible” to “reflecting on what’s happening as it’s happening” to “here are my half-baked thoughts about absolutely anything and I’m not even going to attempt to entertain you,” or as I like to call it, Twitter/Facebook Syndrome.

As for Facebook, I don’t mind getting status updates and snapshots of what my friends’ lives are like — even if “Bob the Builder” is prominently involved — as long as they aren’t posting 10 times a day or writing something uncomfortable about their spouse/boyfriend like “(Girl’s name) is … trying to remember the last time she looked at her husband without wanting to punch him in the face” or “(Girl’s name) is … just going to keep eating, it’s not like I have sex anymore.” Keep me out of your personal business, please. Other than that, the comedy of status updates can be off the charts. Like my college classmate who sends out status updates so overwhelmingly mundane and weird that my buddies and I forward them to each other, then add fake responses like, “(Guy’s name) … snapped and killed a drifter tonight” and “(Guy’s name) … would hang myself if the ceilings in my apartment weren’t too short.” It kills us. We can’t get enough of it. We have been doing it for four solid months. And really, that’s what Facebook is all about — looking at photos of your friend’s kids or any reunion or party, making fun of people you never liked and searching for old hook-ups and deciding whether you regret the hook-up or not. That’s really it. All in all, I like Facebook.

A Guide To Recognizing Your Saints

Recommendation of the Week: A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints

A Guide is one of those under-appreciated great films that you heard of but probably never had the drive to pay the $11.50 to see in theatres or the $5 to rent down at your local movie rental retail centre.

Let me take the time now to tell you that you should find that drive and embrace it. This film is worth it on multiple levels. From a profound story line circling a youth, Dito Montiel (the writer and director), and his experiences growing up in Queens in the 80s to magnificent shots with art-house editing, cross-cutting and juxtapositions. Everything is topped off with great acting delivered by Robert Downey, Jr and Channing Tatum. Even Shia LaBeouf puts in some decent chops, completely redeeming any ideas you may have formed if you actually did have the shameful drive to pay to see  Indiana Jones: All Even Numbered Movies Suck.

The story line follows Dito Montiel, now a successful writer in California, as he returns home to Queens for the first time in fifteen years to take care of his dying father. The movie is shot mostly in flashback but in a manner that allows the audience to experience the moments that led up to Dito’s decision to leave his family and friends both with Dito as a teen (LaBeouf) and with him as an adult (Downey, Jr) while he writes, re-reads, and reminisces.  The Queens of Dito’s youth is ravaged with gang and domestic violence, race issues, sexual curiosity and plagued with the reprecussions of each decision Dito and his friends make.

It’s an interesting tale, almost of caution, but mostly of the grit of reality and what life truly brings to each person on this planet. Uncertainty and a desperation to understand one’s self and one’s role in their life as well as in the lives of others.

Do scrounge around and find some extra bills you have lying around and go rent this film. I would love to hear your own thoughts on the film. Post em below.

-K

Spotlight On: Michael Sheen

How this charming and captivating Welsh actor managed to stay under the American radar for so long, I’ll never know. But with the doling out of credit where it’s due, and a coincidental double feature in theatres, Michael Sheen  is finally getting his moment of recognition both inside and out of the industry.

Sheen, one of the titular stars in the Oscar nominated film Frost/Nixon, does an exceptional job portraying David Frost alongside Frank Langella’s Nixon. The film, directed by Ron Howard, boats one of the strongest casts put together since…Milk. But still, between Kevin Bacon, Sam Rockwell, Matthew MacFayden and Oliver Platt it is impressive that Sheen’s screen presence maintains a solid grip on the audience, mesmerizing you all the way through.

Sheen also received praise for another political film he co-starred in, 2006′s Oscar nominated film The Queen. Again acting alongside a strong cast, Michael Sheen gave a solid performance as the former prime-minister Tony Blair.

Even though these two aforementioned films happen to have been highly recognized within the industry, Sheen may have truly started to receive his due amongst the masses when the credits after Underworld: Rise of the Lycans began to roll up on the screen. Sheen, the seemingly typecast geeky politico, plays Lucian–the lycan leader who starts an uprising against the vampire clan lead by Bill Nighy (Love Actually, I Capture the Castle). Sheen is on screen running around sporting fantastically sexy long hair, a scruffy beard, and leather pants. Not to mention his shirtless scenes and the wielding of large swords and scary teeth. 

“WHAT!” you say? Yes. Tis true. And yes, I recognize the Underworld trilogy does not compare to the screen gem that is and will be forever, Frost/Nixon, but lets just ruminate on the fact that this man has two such opposing roles simultaneously in theatres.  (And let’s enjoy it).

Sheen is next up in the British film The Damned United, directed by Tom Hooper. The film is an adaptation of British author David Peace’s acclaimed account of legendary English soccer coach Brian Clough’s turbulent 44-day reign as manager of Leeds United in 1974.