Further down the road, my interests turned more serious as I became curious about the atomic bomb's history. The mechanism itself, and the beleaguered souls burdened with the responsibility of creating it with the original purpose of getting it done before the Germans. Eventually intelligence revealed the Krauts didn't have what it took to get it done, but the Americans pressed on. After the victory in Europe, America focused it's bomb advancement as a tool to defeat the Japanese and end the war for good.
I inhaled information about the likes of J. Robert Oppenheimer, Edward Tellar, Leo Szilard and others, the physicists who worked feverishly to create this most terrible and gigantic of weapons. They were a varied, maudlin, and sometimes mysterious group of guys from countries all over the world. Oppenheimer, who was put in charge of the top secret project ("Manhattan" as it was labelled) at Los Alamos, New Mexico by General Leslie Groves, had former ties to communism, but hard headed patriot Groves still thought "Oppie" was the man for the job.
In books like "The Bomb: A Life", "Shockwave", and the film "Fat Man and Little Boy" (named after the two types of atomic bombs the scientists at Los Alamos created) really illustrate the tense, yet bizarrely compelling atmosphere of working at that military installation. From the opening pages of "The Bomb", I was sucked into the non-fiction storyline.
Strangely, after the horrifically successful testing of the A bomb in the barren New Mexico desert, and before the subsequent use of Little Boy on Hiroshima, a group of 39 scientists led by Leo Szilard, the man whose mind first gave birth to it's very concept, drafted a petition to stop it from being used. I like to believe I would have gladly signed that document. The petition never made it to President Truman and Hiroshima was the first victim of atomic devastation. Even secretary of war Harry Stimson strongly pushed an idea to demonstrate the bomb on an area where no one would be killed to frighten Japan to surrender. This also was not an accepted method to the brass, doubtful though it may be that the scare tactic would work. Even 3 days after Hiroshima's nightmarish annihilation, the stubborn Japanese were still discussing their options. The meetings stopped after Fat Man detonated over Nagasaki.
These terrifying strings of events occurred long before my birth, and at the time of my doomsday fears I knew little to nothing about them. Had I, my anxieties probably would have tripled in my adolescence, knowing that these things not only could, but actually already had happened. Not a lot of people, including myself until seeing the fantastic film "Thirteen Days" and reading a lot of "Red Scare" material, knew how close we came to mutual button-pushing during the Cuban Missile Crisis. As a kid, I was scared to death of the nuclear fiend, but I had feared it as a down the road apocalyptic nightmare, not a horror story with pre-planted seeds. As a maturing adult I'm glad those childhood apprehensions were not dipped in the fertilizer of historic fact that would quite possibly have made them out-and-out paranoia.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Friday, September 11, 2009
HALLOWEEN HEROES 2: Phantasm
This time of year, as I stated is the best time of year for horror movies. In the last review, I looked at John Carpenter's "Halloween", the best of them all. Now, let's take a look at another horror movie smothered in atmosphere:
Now it would be ridiculous and pointless to try to give you the plot points of this wonderful and creepy horror ride. Much less go into the expansive twists and inter-dimensional space-time continuum haberdabber that went into it's 3 sequels, but director Don Coscarelli was onto something here.
Mike and Jody's parents just died. At the funeral home, the inquisitive Mike sees the funeral director, an impossibly "Tall Man" single handedly toss his recently deceased older brother's casket into a hearse. He's being followed by what appear to be exceptionally quiet Jawas from the "Star Wars" movies.
The "Tall Man" (legendary actor Angus Scrimm, who incidentally won a grammy for writing liner notes at one time, yep that's me as they call me: "The Encyclopedia of Who Gives A Shit") also carries a silver sphere around with him that acts like a remote camera and when needed breaks out some serious Black & Decker hardware for skull alterations.
The cinematography, when considering the hyper-low budget Coscarelli had to work with is amazing. The special effects: ditto. If you are a total nerdlinger like I am and watch the special features of the MGM DVD, you'd be even more impressed by the ingenuity the director and crew used to make what appear to be costly effects on a lunchbox budget.
The unnerving score adds to the environs of creepiness, and therefore you have it. Another one of my Halloween Heroes: "Phantasm". Seek out the sequels, they're all better than most horror sequels, because Coscarelli, taking care of his children, wrote and directed them all.b (save for the finale Ravager, made after I wrote this Gigglesnort)
As a side note, a couple years ago, Coscarelli wrote and directed a vignette that was a featured episode of the Movie Channel's "Masters of Horror" series, called "Incident on and off a Mountain Road". It’s A great short piece that is underrappreciated. Should be able to find it at a Best Buy. Happy Hunting!!
Now it would be ridiculous and pointless to try to give you the plot points of this wonderful and creepy horror ride. Much less go into the expansive twists and inter-dimensional space-time continuum haberdabber that went into it's 3 sequels, but director Don Coscarelli was onto something here.
Mike and Jody's parents just died. At the funeral home, the inquisitive Mike sees the funeral director, an impossibly "Tall Man" single handedly toss his recently deceased older brother's casket into a hearse. He's being followed by what appear to be exceptionally quiet Jawas from the "Star Wars" movies.
The "Tall Man" (legendary actor Angus Scrimm, who incidentally won a grammy for writing liner notes at one time, yep that's me as they call me: "The Encyclopedia of Who Gives A Shit") also carries a silver sphere around with him that acts like a remote camera and when needed breaks out some serious Black & Decker hardware for skull alterations.
The cinematography, when considering the hyper-low budget Coscarelli had to work with is amazing. The special effects: ditto. If you are a total nerdlinger like I am and watch the special features of the MGM DVD, you'd be even more impressed by the ingenuity the director and crew used to make what appear to be costly effects on a lunchbox budget.
The unnerving score adds to the environs of creepiness, and therefore you have it. Another one of my Halloween Heroes: "Phantasm". Seek out the sequels, they're all better than most horror sequels, because Coscarelli, taking care of his children, wrote and directed them all.b (save for the finale Ravager, made after I wrote this Gigglesnort)
As a side note, a couple years ago, Coscarelli wrote and directed a vignette that was a featured episode of the Movie Channel's "Masters of Horror" series, called "Incident on and off a Mountain Road". It’s A great short piece that is underrappreciated. Should be able to find it at a Best Buy. Happy Hunting!!
BLUE OYSTER CULT: Joan Crawford
I wrote a brief piece not too long ago about paparazzi and celebrity obsession and or stalking.
Now, you all know by now what a honk for Blue Oyster Cult that I am. Recently I was listening to their "best of" CD in my car when I heard "Joan Crawford". That kind of brought back a similar vibe to that old post called "Celebrity Jibber Jabber".
Back in the early 80's Christina Crawford wrote a memoir about being the daughter of screen legend Joan Crawford. The book, "Mommie Dearest" depicted the alleged startling and grotesque abuses Christina supposedly suffered at the hands of her mother.
There were detractors to Christina's claims, and the cries of doubt were very loud, and often confirmed by those "in the know". But it didn't stop the noise the book and subsequent film made here in the United States.
In the film, Crawford, played by "It" girl at the time, Faye Dunaway, was depicted as nothing more than a raging, blithering, psychotic sadist. The atrocities Christina suffered at the hands of the actress were frightening. Wire hanger beatings, forced abusive chores and horrid verbal cruelties were in abundance.
There was only one problem.
As I stated, there were too many people out there that vocally doubted the allegations and publicly stated it.
The movie went forward anyway and was instantly controversial. It made a monster out of Crawford, and Dunaway's notoriously over-the-top hamming only made the possible doubt about Crawford's abusiveness seem more credible. However, Hollywood doesn't like it when one of their own trashes another, particularly a deceased legend, and Dunaway's career was derailed into b-movies and direct to video fare. Oh, how tinseltown is a vindictive, savage and vengeful beast.
So, Long Island New York legends Blue Oyster Cult recorded "Joan Crawford", a satirical piece beginning with a gorgeous classical piano intro before growing into a classic rock jam.
It creates a parody of Crawford's tarnished image painting a picture of the starlet rising from the grave, her visage so horrifying that "policemen are hiding behind the skirts of little girls", and mass hysteria among the populous is created.
It sounds like Crawford is being bashed by the song, but if you listen, it's actually defending her memory in a way, from a media-driven world that is a little to ready to absorb and amplify what may be character-slaughter for profit. A world that has a tendency to to overglorify some, and demonize others. As we continue to do, say with Michael Jackson. What is he this week?
Blue Oyster Cult, always one step ahead and little bit smarter than their contemporaries. Much like the Stranger in "The Big Lebowski", I take comfort in that.
Monday, September 7, 2009
FAMOUS HISTORICAL FIGURES I'D LIKE TO MEET
Frank Serpico.
Talk about a guy with balls. When the early 70's NYPD was crawling with corruption, whether minor or frickin' huge, he wanted none of it. No protection money, no scraping off the top of impounded cash, none of it. He ended up with a bullet in his face, and when the call was made to the dispatcher of the officer down, he turned to another dispatcher and said, "Hey, guess who got shot, Frank Serpico." To which the other replied, "Did a cop do it?"
If you weren't on the take to some degree in NYC at that time, you weren't trusted by the other boys in blue, and thusly feared for what you knew, and could possibly testify about. Still, Serpico didn't flinch. As a matter of fact, he faced the intimidation, the violence, and the fact that due to his immense inquisitiveness and hunger for knowledge on all things from literature to ballet, many cops thought him weird, or even gay. he waltzed through all of that, gunshot wound and all, and ended up through his testimony through the Warren Commission, brought them all down. A truly admirable modern day cowboy.
Talk about a guy with balls. When the early 70's NYPD was crawling with corruption, whether minor or frickin' huge, he wanted none of it. No protection money, no scraping off the top of impounded cash, none of it. He ended up with a bullet in his face, and when the call was made to the dispatcher of the officer down, he turned to another dispatcher and said, "Hey, guess who got shot, Frank Serpico." To which the other replied, "Did a cop do it?"
If you weren't on the take to some degree in NYC at that time, you weren't trusted by the other boys in blue, and thusly feared for what you knew, and could possibly testify about. Still, Serpico didn't flinch. As a matter of fact, he faced the intimidation, the violence, and the fact that due to his immense inquisitiveness and hunger for knowledge on all things from literature to ballet, many cops thought him weird, or even gay. he waltzed through all of that, gunshot wound and all, and ended up through his testimony through the Warren Commission, brought them all down. A truly admirable modern day cowboy.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
HALLOWEEN HEROES!!!
It's that time of year again. My Facebook friends already know what a Halloween nerdlinger I am, and I thought I'd elaborate using my favorite time-spender: Movies!!
I'm gonna start with the most obvious:
Sometime in the fall of 1981, I went up to my sisters' apartment in Racine, where they had HBO hooked up to a tiny black and white Admiral television (which I now have by the way, if you'd like to see it, click here: http://www.moviesistayeduplatefor.blogspot.com/] The plan was to watch the Walter Hill classic, "The Warriors", but "Halloween" was on first. I had heard it was a good movie, but had no idea what I was in for. From the opening sting chord as the 6-year old Michael Myers' teenage sister turns on her upstairs bedroom light, albeit briefly, to engage in the quickest bout of hanky-panky in movie history. To the closing montage of all the places "the shape" had visited and terrorized during the film's tour into hell, I was wide-eyed and freaked out.
John Carpenter's keyboard score underlies a darkly but masterfully shot film, lit with genius by Dean Cundey, where nothing is where or is as it seems. Michael Myers is everywhere. And nowhere. At the same time I had deep admiration for stage and cinema legend, Donald Pleasence as Myers' flustered and dedicated psychiatrist, Dr. Sam Loomis. He was the only one who understood the depths of Michael's evil. And, indeed what "It" (as a transfer nurse chides Dr. Loomis for referring to Michael as early on in the film) is capable of. The film caused unsteady sleep, and to this day to my embarrassment, still the occasional nightmare.
After what seems like hundreds of sequels later, and a couple of poorly executed remakes by a former rock-star turned 70's grindhouse style filmmaker, the original seems a liftime away. All of those that followed (with the possible exception of the underappreciated 1981 Rick Rosenthal-helmed "Halloween II") pale in comparison.
To me, Carpenter's film became as much a part of the holiday as the crisp, golden leaves, the bite in the air, and the peanut butter kisses and PAL gum dropped into plastic buckets on October 31. I've realized myself despite the uneasy sleep, that the creeps induced by "Halloween" are now the good kind. And are created in all too short supply these days.
I'm gonna start with the most obvious:
Sometime in the fall of 1981, I went up to my sisters' apartment in Racine, where they had HBO hooked up to a tiny black and white Admiral television (which I now have by the way, if you'd like to see it, click here: http://www.moviesistayeduplatefor.blogspot.com/] The plan was to watch the Walter Hill classic, "The Warriors", but "Halloween" was on first. I had heard it was a good movie, but had no idea what I was in for. From the opening sting chord as the 6-year old Michael Myers' teenage sister turns on her upstairs bedroom light, albeit briefly, to engage in the quickest bout of hanky-panky in movie history. To the closing montage of all the places "the shape" had visited and terrorized during the film's tour into hell, I was wide-eyed and freaked out.
John Carpenter's keyboard score underlies a darkly but masterfully shot film, lit with genius by Dean Cundey, where nothing is where or is as it seems. Michael Myers is everywhere. And nowhere. At the same time I had deep admiration for stage and cinema legend, Donald Pleasence as Myers' flustered and dedicated psychiatrist, Dr. Sam Loomis. He was the only one who understood the depths of Michael's evil. And, indeed what "It" (as a transfer nurse chides Dr. Loomis for referring to Michael as early on in the film) is capable of. The film caused unsteady sleep, and to this day to my embarrassment, still the occasional nightmare.
After what seems like hundreds of sequels later, and a couple of poorly executed remakes by a former rock-star turned 70's grindhouse style filmmaker, the original seems a liftime away. All of those that followed (with the possible exception of the underappreciated 1981 Rick Rosenthal-helmed "Halloween II") pale in comparison.
To me, Carpenter's film became as much a part of the holiday as the crisp, golden leaves, the bite in the air, and the peanut butter kisses and PAL gum dropped into plastic buckets on October 31. I've realized myself despite the uneasy sleep, that the creeps induced by "Halloween" are now the good kind. And are created in all too short supply these days.
TWO FAMOUS HISTORICAL FIGURES I'D LIKE TO MEET
I think a lot about history. The old west, biblical days, World War II, the 60's strife and of course, the eras of my youth, the 70's and 80's. History has been punctuated with colorful and indignant markers that spot the maps of time whether for good or bad.
This is a new feature, where I'll flash short thoughts on what I like to call "Dudes of the Past". Or Historical Cats I'd dig meeting. As the old witch on "Woody Woodpecker" used to say upon jumping onto her broom, "...And away we go!!!"
1. J. Edgar Hoover: The Man with all the info. According to pundits, long after his death, of course, this former founder and head of the FBI had files on everybody. Including you. (I don't care if you weren't born yet. ) There's a few things I'd like to ask him:
a. Who killed JFK? Just so I can do a press conference and get everybody to shut the hell up about it. It's been 40 damn years. Enough already. Concentrate on Lady Di.
b. Where's Jimmy Hoffa? With my car keys?
c. Was the moon landing faked? If so, why? It's the damn moon. We could take a freakin' cab there now, why are some people so worried about this?
d. Area 51, come on, Hoover, what's in there? Swine Flu? Ebola? Elvis?
2. Wyatt Earp: The modern era's poster boy for duality. He was known in some circles for standing up on the right side of the law, and in others as the Old West's version of "The Punisher". I'm sure he'd have plenty of stories to tell. I'm curious about whether or not Doc Holliday was really as tight with Kate Elder as history declares. Which one of you ol' gunslingers put that bullet in Johnny Ringo's forehead? And last, but definitely not least, why did you treat Maddie like such a prick, man? Couldn't you have let her down a little easier? Sheesh. And by the by, what did you think of Tom Mix weeping at your funeral?
This is a new feature, where I'll flash short thoughts on what I like to call "Dudes of the Past". Or Historical Cats I'd dig meeting. As the old witch on "Woody Woodpecker" used to say upon jumping onto her broom, "...And away we go!!!"
1. J. Edgar Hoover: The Man with all the info. According to pundits, long after his death, of course, this former founder and head of the FBI had files on everybody. Including you. (I don't care if you weren't born yet. ) There's a few things I'd like to ask him:
a. Who killed JFK? Just so I can do a press conference and get everybody to shut the hell up about it. It's been 40 damn years. Enough already. Concentrate on Lady Di.
b. Where's Jimmy Hoffa? With my car keys?
c. Was the moon landing faked? If so, why? It's the damn moon. We could take a freakin' cab there now, why are some people so worried about this?
d. Area 51, come on, Hoover, what's in there? Swine Flu? Ebola? Elvis?
2. Wyatt Earp: The modern era's poster boy for duality. He was known in some circles for standing up on the right side of the law, and in others as the Old West's version of "The Punisher". I'm sure he'd have plenty of stories to tell. I'm curious about whether or not Doc Holliday was really as tight with Kate Elder as history declares. Which one of you ol' gunslingers put that bullet in Johnny Ringo's forehead? And last, but definitely not least, why did you treat Maddie like such a prick, man? Couldn't you have let her down a little easier? Sheesh. And by the by, what did you think of Tom Mix weeping at your funeral?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
VINYL DESTINATION 6: The Knack
Deadpool: Nate... c'mon... wake up... say something to get me mad... tell me "According to Jim" is the best sitcom in television history. Tell me The Knack sucks. Something... Nate... ...Was it worth it?
Much like the hair band era of the late 80's, the "skinny tie" movement of the late 70's and early 80's is equally maligned and laughed at. The Romantics, The Plimsouls, and the Wigs all put out quality music.
The style of skinny tie is best described as "power pop", catchy hits with a hard rock edge, but the added ingredient of singable harmony choruses.
The absolute kings of the scene were the Knack. Large record company anticipatory marketing led to huge sales of their debut, "Get the Knack". Capitol records tried to push them as the next Beatles, including an album cover vaguely reminiscent of "Meet the Beatles."
This heavy pre and post-release marketing saturation, and one of the most overplayed singles of all time, "My Sharona", led to huge worldwide exposure. "Sharona", effervescently catchy, memorable, and features a surprising cornucopia of musicianship, especially Berton Averre's ripping guitar solo, is a microcosm of the LP itself.
"My Sharona" is far from the lone bright spot on the record. Doug Fieger's lyrical songwriting swang from sweet and classy to downright nasty and overtly sexual. His voice carries all the songs exceptionally well. "Your Number or Your Name" is a great pop song about trying to get the attention of someone who has caught yours. Featuring snappy drumwork by Bruce Gary, it's a true toe-tapper.
"Maybe Tonight" is a great heartfelt song reeking of longing, where Fieger's voice is in top form. He sings with great emotion in all his songs, but here it feels more pure and raw. Doug feels it on this song.
Sweetly expressing emotional frustration with the opposite sex on "That's What the Little Girls Do", and libidinous outrage at a teasing girlfriend with "Frustrated", Fieger's songwriting runs the attitude gamut toward relationship difficulties, whether physical or in the heart.
Every teenage boy's fantasy (including my own) is met in the lyrics of Fieger's rocker, "Good Girls Don't". The title is a line a girl gives him in the chorus, but with the caveat of: "But I do". It's a nice mid-tempo ditty, begun strangely enough with harmonica. The song could be the first and only top 40 chart single with the lyric "you're hoping you can get inside her pants."
"She's so Selfish" is another teasing girl, musically backed by a super slow build on drums, that grows into a half speed Bo Diddley beat the upswings toward a rollicking finish. One of my personal faves on the record.
Obviously, the Knack were heavily influenced by the 60's garage rock movement led by the likes of ? and the Mysterians, The Dave Clark Five, and the Troggs. The Knack capture that vibe, right down to the studio pic of them on the back cover featuring the group in black pant, white shirt, black skinny tie regalia. All five members performing with the classic instrument of each position: Prescott Niles with his Richenbacker bass, Bruce Gary on a Ludwig drum kit, Doug Fieger's brown and black vignette Stratocaster, and Lead guitarist Berton Averre's jet black Gibson Les Paul.
that oozes classic.
Rock scribe Danny Sugerman, author of the Doors bio, "Nowhere Here Gets Out Alive", wrote the liner notes for the "Best of the Knack" retrospective CD. He expressed that I agree heavily with as gospel truth. He described them in the same way that the Replacements' Paul Westerberg once described the Beatles: "A damn fine rock and roll band."
Believe the Hype.
Again.
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