You know, at first I wasn’t that into “Nikita.” Sure, the rogue assassin series reboot for the CW features one of my favorite TV archetypes: The hot girl who kicks ass. Still for whatever reason I just didn’t feel that excited. I think it’s because the CW is known more for hot gossip than killer action. But that was before I found out Maggie Q’s tattoos are real. Yes, real. Dude. Of course, I should have been on the bandwagon from the start. Asian girls got to represent. But to be honest all I knew about her was that she was in that “Mission: Impossible” threequel I never saw and had done work in Hong Kong. Well, welcome home, Ms. Quigley.
After reading about how at the TCAs and Comic-Con Maggie utterly charmed the assembled TV critics (a notoriously cranky and hard to charm bunch), I now more than impressed. Like when onstage at Comic-Con she joked about hanging out with all the other CW stars: “You can’t imagine how good looking it is backstage. I had to push the A-cups up a little.” And then at the TCA she commented on how people always think Asians automatically knows kung fu: “Yes, we wake up and do kung fu, then we brush our teeth.” And, just in case she hadn’t made all the gay gals absolutely swoon yet, she also said: “I like to wear less makeup and be tougher. (Dressing up is) exciting for people, but it’s less exciting for me.” All that and those tattoos. Sign me up, I’m in. So in. Happy weekend, all.
It’s happening! It’s really happening! It’s like the skies have opened up! It’s like the heavens are weeping – WITH JOY! The Meryl Streep/Tina Fey mother-daughter movie is happening. Sony has optioned the package, which is still in the treatment stage. But who needs a full script when you have Meryl, Tina and Stanley Tucci directing? This news is so momentous, I feel like it should be a national holiday. I feel like this should be celebrated in song. Can anyone sculpt? I feel like a statue is in order. Also, is it too early to start standing in line for my ticket?
According to The Hollywood Reporter, the tentatively titled “Mommy & Me” will “spotlights the thorny and funny sides of mother-daughter relationships.” But, hell, it can spotlight whatever it wants. It’s Tina Fey. It’s Meryl Streep. If they read the phone book together for 90 minutes I’d still watch devotedly while chomping down on a tub of popcorn. In fact, the only way this movie could be more awesome is if Helen Mirren signed on to play Meryl’s lesbian lover. Oh, and then Lena Headey signed on to play Tina’s lesbian lover. What? We’re dreaming big here, people. BIG.
Oh hai, Sarah Shahi, we’ve missed you. So yesterday everyone’s favorite former fake DJ/jilted bride got verified on Twitter. Apparently she’s been tweeting up a storm from the Vancouver set of her new USA show “Facing Kate.” And she has also been trying to get for former fake happy naked times friend to tweet her back. It’s kind of adorable.
Now, clearly, in her last post I replaced the word “tweet” with another verb in my head. An action verb. A naughty action verb. What? You know you did, too. Need a visual? Scroll down.
[NSFW, also NSFAllFutureProductivity because you will stare at this for the rest of the day and accomplish nothing else. Possibly ever. Fair warning.]
Right. So there’s that. Of course there will more than likely be considerably less impromptu kitchen table striptease moments on her new show. She plays an attorney who leaves the high profile world of law behind to become a mediator. No official pictures have been released yet (but the TCAs are this week, so fingers crossed). Sarah has tweeted photos from the set and her trailer.
That last one is part of a protest to get offshore drilling dropped by the Oceana organization. I just want to hug her, and possibly a dolphin. Sarah is an amazing mix of hot and adorable. Hotable? Adorot? Even more hotable (yeah, I went with that one) is that she misses us back. See.
At this point you’re probably scanning your TV and trying to set your DVR for her return. Well, we still have to wait until November. Until then why don’t we entertain ourselves with thoughts of possibly the greatest yet-to-be-developed Sarah Shahi show of all time: “Facing Kate Moennig.”
As you know, we're rather fond of noisy, energetic, all girl groups here at The Streetlamp and if they're cute and Japanese to boot then we simply fall head over heels. We're very happy then that today sees the international release of 'Home' on limited colored vinyl 7-inch and as a digital single with b-side 'Uh Ah' by The Suzan. We're even happier to tell you that you can download the a-side for free at the RCRD LBL site. The Suzan are sisters Saori (guitar and vocals) and Rie (keyboard and vocals) who formed the band in 2003, later recruiting friends Ikue (bass) and Nico (drums). The band's unusual name is taken from the sister's family name.
The Suzan's music in the past has been exciting if fairly orthodox punk pop but this latest single with it's driving tom-tom beats, xylophone melody, surf guitar solo and chanted vocal has a more adventurous and unconventional post-punk feel to it. This September the girls will be releasing their full length album 'Golden Week For The Poco Poco Beat' with Fool's Gold Records and it will be interesting to hear fully how the band's style has developed.
Here's a superb video of the girls' raw and primal 'You Know Nothing' from 2007.
I’m in kind of a tough girl phase right now. Well, it’s not really a phase. I mean, we can’t help who we like, right? I’m really feeling the lady bad asses. Perhaps it was “Salt,” which I enjoyed immensely. Angelina once famously said she wanted to be Bond, not a Bond girl and boy did she ever deliver. Asses kicked, not stirred. The ERA of action has been long overdue. Sure, we’ve had the Founding Mothers of Bad Assery: Sigourney, Linda, Action Angie. But there’s always room for more. So let’s take a look at some recent contenders.
Now, I have no idea what is happening in this trailer for “Sucker Punch.” Young women in crazy school girl outfits going all Mortal Kombat on an assortment of baddies (Samurai soldiers, Nazis, dragons!). I think it has something to do with a girl being taken to an insane asylum to be lobotomized. But plot schmot, who wants some eye candy?
[Hat tip, Ellen!]
Now, what this next clip lacks in special effects, it more than makes up with literary pedigree. If this gets made into a movie I demand Kiera Knightley and Kate Winslet star, with Emma Thompson in a supervisory role. Referee, perhaps? And, FIGHT! And, finally, this clip involves no fisticuffs, automatic weapons or heavy artillery. But just listen to Ellen Page’s answer to the question: Who would you like to perform Inception on? Now that’s a bad ass. You don’t have to use your fists to be tough, ladies. Your brain will do just fine.
Michelle Rodriguez is many things. Tough. Resilient. Smoking hot in a tank top. But what she isn’t too often on screen is alive. Her characters have the unfortunate tendency to end up dead. How dead and how often? Well, off the top of my head:
Resident Evil – Dead BloodRayne – Dead Lost – Dead Fast & Furious – Dead Avatar – Dead
So, that’s a lot of resting in pieces. Now, Michelle has her own thoughts on why this keeps happening. She told io9.com at Comic-Con:
“Because I don’t take my clothes off, and I'm nobody’s girlfriend. The writers are new to the whole tough girl thing, and they don’t know what to do with [me]. We’ve got the dude who’s strong, so what do we do with the chick who’s strong? We kill her. Eventually they’ll get used to it, and maybe Salt will change a thing or two.”
Now, I haven’t always agreed with Michelle on everything, but right here she is right on the money. Hollywood doesn’t know what to do with the tough girl. And women who consistently play tough, well they really don’t know what to do with them. Oh, wait, they do – kill them.
Michelle was also her delightfully colorful and non-PC self again when speaking with The Playlist at Comic-Con. [Hat tip, Norma Desmond!] When asked about being typecast as “The Tough Girl,” she let loose. Witness.
“Oh baby, I was typecast the minute I did a film called, 'Girlfight' years ago. That has nothing to do with anything, it just to do with... you allow yourself to be typecast. If I decided I didn’t want to be typecast tomorrow I’d just go do an indie film where I play some poor girl who goes through some excruciating experience and win myself an award for crying or being raped [breaks into laughter] or playing someone with mental illness. But at the end of the day I’m not in it for the acting. If I were in it for the acting then I would be worried about people not giving me the opportunity to express my vast array of emotions on the screen.
I could give two shits. I only wanna be someone or I respect or someone that I consider interesting or fun. I’m here to entertain people and make a statement about female empowerment and strength and that’s what I've done for the last 10 years, and people can call it typecast, but I pigeonholed myself and I put myself in that box for saying no to everything else that came on my plate. Saying no to the girlfriend, saying no to the girl that gets captured, no to this, no to that and eventually I just got left with the strong chick that’s always being killed and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Nope, Michelle, nothing at all. Well, except for the dead part. Those are some mighty big swipes she is taking, but I would expect nothing less from an actor who says she isn’t in it for the acting. So how about letting the strong chick live instead? Come on, Hollywood, are you ready to be strong?
So, given that I usually write about fey, shy, acoustic noodlers who couldn't blow a hole in a paper handkerchief, how do I follow Gordon's impassioned call-to-arms below? Can I attempt to offer up something which will stoke the flames of this mood of revolutionary fervour sweeping through Streetlamp HQ and yet deliver you your usual dose of lo-fi bedroom pop? Hmmmmm, well yes, I can actually. You want sweet boy/girl vocals? Check. Lo-fi, pop style hand-claps in lieu of percussion? Check. A burst of whimsical whistling? Check. Of course, we'll need a little of that most familiar of all bedroom pop instruments; the ukulele. Check. Now last of all we need a commitment to a 'straight edge' lifestyle and a dash of revolutionary fervour. Check, check, check! Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Paisley.
Paisley is an Anarcho-pop, vegan, straight edge, Twee duo from Bloomington, Indiana, US. I would imagine that's probably a genre all of their own right there. The band consists of Izzy Jarvis and Madison Witheld and as purveyors of a slightly twee blend of mainly acoustic, lo-fi, pop they came to my attention some time last year. Their first demo of six songs was released in January 2009 and is available on their last.fm page as a free download. Other than those scant facts posted on the last.fm page, I know very little about them and they don't appear to have any other presence on the internet. Sadly, they apparently don’t play together anymore, but if you’re lucky you might find them busking at the inner harbour in Baltimore.
So what makes them different from all the other boy/girl bedroom pop duos? Simple, it's the lyrics. Have a look at a sample from 'I'm Right Here' (below). Ostensibly this is just another plea to a lover to forget a past flame. It's a topic visited by many song-writers throughout history. However, the last line took me by surprise the first time I heard it and subsequently always makes me smile.
Forget the girl, cuz I'm right here.
Forget the love, cuz it was never even there.
Forget the girl, cuz I'm right here.
Forget the love, cuz it's right here.
I hope you've wised up & learned that you can't play with girls that way.
It doesn't matter how you feel, you've got to be honest with me.
Be kind, be cool, always try to communicate.
We'll have to work together if we wanna smash the state.
Yes, indeed. Surely, that's the line Carole King kept trying to work into her songs of broken teen relationships but just couldn't manage. And there's more. What about this excerpt from 'Love Makes Up The Best Wishes' (below)?
You know I'd like to count the stars with you.
They say we can't, we know the truth,
It's the journey, not the destination.
So we slip on black masks, march loudly through the tear gas.
They will be blinded by our love.
Because love makes up the best wishes,
Blowing up dams to save the fishes.
Please make one for me now.
Let's burn down our home towns.
OK, it's not such a shock this time but that last line is still a little bit of a jolt when you hear it and quite frankly I think you should do just that. Paisley are a curiously charming duo with a naive honesty missing from 99% of the acts foisted on us by the music industry. I sincerely hope that they find time to record and post a second set of songs as I don't see me making it to the inner harbour in Baltimore anytime soon. If you ever do find yourself down that way, please tell them I said 'Hello' and errrm... 'Smash the State'. We've given the two songs quoted above the Streetlamp video treatment. Enjoy!
"Same old stuff// You've heard it all before// Crass being crass..." You may think that here at Streetlamp HQ we swan around in smoking jackets, sipping the finest Chardonnay, watching Bulgarian arthouse movies and trawling the Internet for Twee Pop and Folktronica....and tragically, you'd be pretty spot on. BUT....there was a time when we were prepared to get our hands dirty. Just like the shellshocked dead-eyes who returned from the Somme, we rarely speak of our time in the later stages of the Punk Wars....but we were there, and we've kept our silence....till now! For you see it's time for us to tell you about Crass, and Crass are a band who TOTALLY polarise people. You don't just like or dislike them, you either bought in totally to their ethos, their ideals, their way of life, their dark, uncomfortable, scary world view....or you listened to Sting!
It's not often that Griff and I admit to being wrong about anything to do with music, and we'd certainly never say it out loud, but we WERE wrong about Crass. Not just once...but TWICE! How so? Come with us on a journey into a black and white world of anarcho-punk and the small matter of the end of the world. Folktronica and Field Mice fans be warned....rudeness will most definitely abound!
"Said they only wanted well behaved boys// Do they think guitars and microphones are just fucking toys?// Fuck'em, determined to make my stand// Against what I feel is wrong with this land"
My first encounter with Crass was through Griff. He gave me a tape of himself accompanied by drums 'singing' Crass's 'Do They Owe Us A Living' from their debut 12" 'The Feeding Of The 5000'. Crass had emerged at the same time as The Sex Pistols and The Clash but had refused to sign up to any corporate record label. Many called them old hippies jumping on the Punk bandwagon, but in truth they were more university drop-outs who took John Lennon a little too seriously, and fed off the energy of Punk to deliver their anti-war, anti-government, anti-meat eating, anarchist message. They lived in an artistic community called Dial House in Epping, near Essex, dressed in black militaristic clothes, eschewed elaborate stage lighting for basic 40watt bulbs, and bedecked their stage in flags bearing slogans such as "Fight War Not Wars, Destroy Power Not People" and the Crass logo. Crass almost immediately began to criticise their fellow punks for selling out to the big record labels, and by waiting till they could press up their own records, their debut didn't arrive until the Winter of 1978. But, by almost constant gigging, they had built up a formidable following. Their opening salvo, a 7" single called 'Reality Asylum' was also given to me by Griff, and it proved a shattering and uncomfortable listen. As far removed from the music of Punk as it is possible to get(but force-fed by the energy of Punk)'Reality Asylum' is a disturbing sound-collage over which female vocalist Eve Libertine narrates a poem/rant decrying the use of Jesus Christ a tool to oppress women and keep the masses in line through the power of guilt. Uneasy listening indeed, but also quite far removed from Crass's usual fare.
"Do you get a buzz when you reminisce?//"Too much man, it was better than this"//I don't want a relativity talk//If that's the bus ride, I'd think I'd rather walk".
'The Feeding Of The 5000' and it's almost immediate follow up 'The Stations Of The Crass' pretty much set out the blueprint for Crass's oeuvre; from the black and white sleeves designed by Gee Vaucher, to main vocalist Steve Ignorant(Steve Williams) snarling, profanity-drenched lyrics, to the usual subjects like 'the system', the suppression and oppression of women, right-wing thuggery, media brainwashing, the nuclear arms race and the imminent destruction of the planet. Both albums sold in massive quantities, as did brilliant accompanying singles like 'Bloody Revolutions', 'Nagasaki Nightmare' and 'Big A Little A'.By this time Crass had set up their own record company, putting out releases by Poison Girls, Conflict, Flux Of Pink Indians, Rudimentary Peni, The Mob and Zoundz, to name a few.
Debunking The Myths Of Crass#1: Crass's music is basically Punk-by-numbers! Not so; for me, Punk-by-numbers is the rubbish churned out by The Exploited, GBH, Discharge, Chaotic Dischord and Disorder etc. What Crass tended to play was more Post-Punk, often the bass would form the basis of the 'melody' and one guitar would form some sort of backdrop while the other would become almost a percussive instrument.Sometimes Crass would show that they really COULD play and would pepper their albums with piano ballads, avant-garde soundscapes, and acoustic folk weirdness.
"They sell us love as divinity// When it's only a social obscenity//Underneath we're all lovable!" In 1981 Crass released what is my own favourite record of theirs, 'Penis Envy'. On this album ALL vocals were delivered by the two female vocalists, Eve Libertine and Joy De Vivre, and the album is pretty much an attack on the phalocentric media and it's depictions of women as nothing more than goddesses, mothers and whores. It contains some of my favourite Crass songs of all time such as 'Berkertex Bribe', 'Health Surface', 'Where Next Columbus?' and 'Bata Motel'. On some of these tracks the playing seems to have stepped up a gear; check out the Calypso introduction of 'Berkertex Bribe' or the eerie synthesizer on 'What The Fuck?'.
Second pressings of the album came with a new final track, 'Our Wedding'; this was an infamous prank played by Crass on a teen girl magazine called 'Loving'. Calling themselves Creative Recording And Sound Services they gave away a flexi-disc ('Our Wedding') with the magazine. The song features a sweet synthpop backing over which Joy delivers a simpering vocal parodying a young Bride promising to be forever true whilst all the while knowing her new Husband will soon be back out on the pull. Trust me, this could have been a chart hit!
"Good old Crass// Our make-believe secret society// Our bland passport to perversity// They're nothing but a caricature....and a joke!" Crass's next statement of intent was their own 'White Album'; a double set called 'Christ - The Album'. Two full albums, a poster and a book entitled 'A Series Of Shock Slogans and Mindless Token Tantrums' all housed in a jet black cardboard box sleeve which resembled the monolith in '2001: A Space Odyssey'. This was seen by many as Crass's ultimate statement, an unrelenting, pitch-black slamming of the world in general. The problem for Crass however was that the album had taken over a year to record, mix and then produce in full, during which time Thatcher had instigated a 'war' against Argentina over sovereignty of the Falkland Islands in a bid to sweep back to power in the following year's General Election. By the time 'Christ - The Album' was released it was already seen as out of step and redundant. This forced Crass to reassess their whole recording strategy. Records would be released more immediately now, like news bulletins.All that aside, 'Christ - The Album' is still regarded as their masterpiece, containing many favourites like 'Rival Tribal Rebels Revel', 'It's The Greatest Working Class Ripoff'(an attack on Garry Bushell's racist OI! movement), 'Major General Despair', plus a couple of left-field avant-garde pieces, 'Sentiment (White Feathers)' and 'Birth Control 'n' Rock 'n' Roll'. And in 'Reality Whitewash' there was ALMOST a commercial sounding 'rock' song, an excellent downbeat and melancholic track dealing with a young wife chained to the kitchen while her spouse drives up and down looking for women, or being seduced by the models on the billboards.
Debunking The Myths Of Crass #2:They are a bunch of humourless tossers! Again, not true. This criticism seems to stem from their own opening lyric on 'Christ - The Album'; "Same old stuff, you've heard it all before// Crass being crass about the system or is it war?// We ain't got no humour// We don't know how to laugh// If you don't fucking like it...fucking tough!". There is a lot of humour in Crass, from the 'Our Wedding' flexi to singles like 'Merry Crassmass' and 'Whodunnit?'(on shit-brown vinyl), from tracks like 'The Smelliest Arse' and 'Salt & Pepper' to Gee Vauche's surreal artwork. If there hadn't been any humour they'd have been practically unlistenable!
"If it's a fight they want, it's beginning// Throughout history, we've been expected to sing their tired song// But now it's our turn to lead the singing..." Almost as a direct response to missing such a target as the Falklands Conflict, Crass spent the rest of 1982 and all of 1983 singing about nothing else; 'Sheepfarming In The Falklands', 'Gotcha!', 'How Does It Feel To Be The Mother Of Thousand Dead?' and virtually all of their next album, 'Yes Sir, I Will'. 'Yes Sir, I Will' was their most extreme gesture to date, the album is practically one huge song stretched over two sides...this tested even their most loyal fans. I'm pretty sure I've only played it in it's entirety about three times.
"Surface agreements, statements of fact, trying to prove we can do it//But sometimes when I'm alone like this I wonder just who can see through it". Crass always said they would cease in 1984....and they did. One more experimental album, '10 Notes On A Summer's Day' and a final single 'You're Already Dead'. This last single, excepting the shouty sweary opening 30 seconds, was their most commercial song to date. Over a polished sound Steve Ignorant pretty much raps the lyrics. The song is practically saying "We've tried all we can, but we've as good as failed", the lyrics bear this out;"By letting it happen without a fight// You're already dead, You're already dead!" and "Four hundred thousand people marched for CND//They're already dead, They're already dead!". On the last verse of the last Crass song Steve practically shrugs his shoulders and gives in, "In a world where the people can't make it//They've simply got to learn to break it// And if the wealthy aren't prepared to shake it...//O.K., we'll simply have to take it...". And that was it!
Steve Ignorant would go on to join label-mates Conflict, whilst Crass founder and drummer Penny Rimbaud wrote and recorded spoken word and poetry albums, almost always voiced by Eve Libertine.
For me, Crass were a sorbet(I'm guessing the first time they've ever been described as such) between Adam & The Ants and The Smiths; cleansing the palate after the pantomimic fantasies of Adam before the emotional songs-as-lifeblood of Morrissey. Pretty soon Griff and I turned our backs completely on Crass. We began to openly criticise them, to admit we had been wrong. We spoke angrily of their awful music and their dodgy ideologies, we bemoaned all those teenage hours spent listening to their appalling drivel when we could have been listening to far better music. Griff even once suggested we burn all their records as a grand statement, we weren't going to listen to them again anyway!Then, we eventually just stopped acknowledging them altogether. We would never speak of them, we became like the battle scarred of Paschendale, never alluding to what we had seen or heard....Crass no longer existed to us. For the next 20 years or so we would remember Crass only through gritted teeth and clenched fists.
The change back happened slowly. A few years ago I bought Rough Trade's 'Indiepop' collection CD which came with a booklet with stories and essays by such Indiepop players as Stephen Pastel, Everett True and Matt & Claire from Sarah Records. Most of the stories came from main compiler Sean Forbes though, and in his stories of Tallulah Gosh, The Popguns, Modesty Blaize and Lush etc, he mentioned over and over again that his favourite band of all time was Crass. Huh?? How can that be? How can anyone possibly like Sarah Records and Twee Pop AND like Crass? That doesn't work! That cannot be right! Then it dawned on us....of course it was right! It was us who had been wrong!
And as the dark clouds of the Cameron/Clegg Utopia descend upon us with it's twin leaders looking like a pair of Uberstumpenfuhrers from the Hitler Youth, with un-reality TV brainwashing the huddled masses, with glamour models and football stars treated like royalty, with huge spending cuts in the NHS whilst money is poured into weapons and surveillance equipment, with Murdoch's media empire educating the populace of Britain which way to vote, with a ghostly terrorist enemy being used to keep the public in line....the time has never been more ripe for Crass.In a previous Blog I remarked that tragically The Beatles aren't coming to save us this time, and neither are Crass....BUT, to the kids armed with guitars and computer software, they may not become the new Beatles but they CAN become the new Crass. Already we've seen Botched Fairytale claim Crass as an infuence and their songs already grasp the nettle, and as Griff wrote in his previous Blog, female post-punk bands are on the rise....we need the new Crass NOW. Looking at you all, I know one thing...we CAN win! I want you to sense you're own strength....go back to your constituences and prepare for Pop Music! Crass are dead! Long live Crass!
"The rich are in their bunker, the poor are at the gate//Use our head to avoid confrontation// Our love to avoid exploitation// If the uniforms choose to stay//They'll have to learn to get out of the fucking way!" ~Gordon~
And to finish off, perhaps their greatest statement: 'Bloody Revolutions'
"The truth of revolution, Brother....is Year Zero!"
Crass Personel 1977-1984: Penny Rimbaud, Steve Ignorant, Eve Libertine, Joy De Vivre, Phil Free, N A Plamer, Pete Wright, Gee Vaucher, Mick Dufield
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m really more of a Team Lena kind of gal. Still I’ve always liked Piper Perabo and thought her cute as a button. A button that gets to kiss Lena Headey. But I never really felt that, well, umpf that makes my knees wobble and my pulse quicken. That is until now. Seeing her fight and flash that smirk. Seeing her kick ass and keep her cool in those tightly tailored suits. It’s all working for me, even if her new show rockets unapologetically into giddy preposterousness from time to time. “Covert Affairs” is all about Piper. That slip of a girl (well, not really a girl, we’re practically the same age), doing all those feats of derring-do.
There was a moment in this week’s episode when Piper, glistening sweat from hitting the heavy bag, looks over her shoulder and it reminded me in an instant why I love women. There was a grace and poetry amid the iron and grit. That duality – the hard and the soft, the head and the heart, the light and the dark. In that moment it all came together. I saw it along the epic curve of her cheekbones, the sweeping slope of her neck – those lines you want to follow forever. This is why books are written, this is why songs are sung. This is why we try and fail and try again. Also, have I mentioned she was wearing a sports bra? Yeah, sometimes it’s also that simple. Happy weekend, all.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I liked “Inception.” It was like one of those M.C. Escher paintings from you college dorm room came to life, spun around a dozen times and then spit out that guy from “Titanic” and that gal from “Juno.” Also, who doesn’t love Ellen Page in an assortment of neckerchiefs? But what I really want is a little lady action. Sure Marion Cotillard gets to brandish a weapon here and there. But I crave is the big, bad-ass ladies with even bigger guns. I mean, damn Michelle Rodriguez, damn. So now the only question is, old school or new school? Decisions, decisions.
OLD SCHOOL
Gail DavisAnnie’s got not one, but two guns. As it should be.
Jane FondaWell now, Ms. Ballou, I like the way you point that thing.
Marlene DietrichThis is her just hanging at the shooting range in leather pants.
Pam GrierShe wasn’t called Foxy Brown for nothing.
Audrey HepburnAdmittedly, this is just adorable. I mean, a sun hat – come on.
NEW SCHOOL
Zoe SaldanaModern girls know how to double-fist it, too.
Noomi RapaceNo American version needed, thank you very much.
Milla Jovovich & Ali LarterTwo girls, one shotgun. So much better.
Yvonne StrahovskiIn my dream scenario Agent Sarah Walker and Agent Annie Walker meet and compare, um, guns.
Angelina JolieYes, I know, we already had a lengthy discussion about sodium content this week. But Ebert gave “Salt” four stars, and I want it to do well this weekend. Ladies first, ya know.
So, ladies – old school or new school? Or is it just fun to be schooled, period?
Depois de muito tempo volto para indicar não um filme, mas uma peça... que leva a indicação de um conto e um filme... Uma peça excepcional, cheia de referências. A montagem é linda. Os diálogos incríveis. As inovações muito criativas. E o texto? Uau! É uma adaptação de um conto de Caio Fernando de Abreu.
Fiquei impressionada. Ri, chorei, me emocionei. Uma cumplicidade nascendo em um cenário de um trabalho chato... quase como mágica... Lembrei das cumplicidades que já nasceram em ambientes pouco suscetíveis. Aquele reconhecimento único de duas pessoas fora do ninho, que encontram refúgio um no outro.
O lance das referências cinematográficas foi de tirar o fôlego! Quantos encontros especiais surgiram de um "não acredito que você também gosta deste filme"? Os diálogos eram muito ricos. Amei cada um. Corri para procurar o filme mencionado... fruto da aproximação... Infâmia (the children's hour, 1961). Havia visto um trecho no filme "Desejo Proibido", era louca para ver o filme todo. Depois falam de Almodovar, de Cantando na Chuva... (na peça, não no conto).
Como é linda a construção de um sentimento. E como o conto mostra de forma tão linda. E como eles conseguiram encenar este conto de poucas linhas em um hora e meia de espetáculo. E descobri que o texto está todo lá... do jeitinho do conto... é narrado no palco entre as cenas...
O modo como duas almas se encontram e se apaixonam é incrível. Querer reduzir este encontro em divisões que rotulam levando em conta desejos carnais é tão mesquinho. Por um lado seres humanos tão pequenos, sem se deixar transcender... por outro, dois deles deixando se levar pelo amor... e transcendendo justamente por aí. O final do conto é maravilhoso, da peça mais ainda. Não vou mais estragar. Deixo o conto na íntegra a seguir. E as outras referências também.
Okay, Pop-quiz Hoshots.....how many great songs about journalists can you name? Journal-ISTS not journal-ISM? Now, if you said 'Kevin Carter' by The Manic Street Preachers then you can have half a point as Kevin Carter was a photo-journalist not strictly a journalist. And, yes Lester Bangs is mentioned in R.E.M's 'It's The End Of The World As We Know It' but he isn't the subject of the song. I'm pretty sure there must have been songs written about Hunter S Thompson or P.J. O'Rourke at some time, but the fact I can't name any off the top of my head suggests they can't really be very well known, or indeed very good!
Which brings me to one of my favourite Indie Pop singles of all time; 'Ask Johnny Dee' by The Chesterfields. This is a truly magnificent slice of late 80s Indie Pop, not too twee and not too rockist either. A 'Hard Days Night' style chiming opening chord ushers us in and suddenly we're dragged along on a strident current of driven guitars and drums. "Well, if you’d like to know what pop stars have for tea// Ask Johnny Dee// And in which motor car it’s safe to be seen// Ask Johnny Dee". For those who don't know, Johnny Dee was(at the time) an up and coming music journalist who wrote for the NME and Smash Hits and would eventually end up writing music columns for The Guardian. I can only imagine that Mr Dee once wrote something VERY positive about The Chesterfields to gain such a sparkling eulogy in song.
The song itself is full of my favourite things; chiming, shimmering guitars, ba-ba-ba backing vocals(always a good thing), arch lyrics, and some fine tambourine shaking. And who is shaking the tambourine? I assume it's a girl.....why? Here's why; "Why don’t you tell me, tell me Mr. Dee// Tell me who is the girl who plays the tambourine// She just wants to be// Close to Johnny Dee". See what I mean? There's a lovely underlying melancholic poignancy about the song which on recent listenings gives the impression that the song was looking backwards to a happier time, even though the subject matter was quite clearly current. I think this is why the song has remained a perennial in my 'favourite-songs-of-all-time' list. This is a song that can't help but make me dream....
Just listening to this song, I'm transported back to time when angst and unhappiness were still strangers, when I spent every day dreaming of being a Pop-star and wondering what the next record I was going to buy would be. Of excited, huddled conflabs in dingy pubs with friends discussing this week's NME and record releases; of intricate dissections of why The Eurythmics had been shite on The Tube and why Talulah Gosh should have been on instead. When the air always stank of hair gel, roll ups and cheap deodorant. Around this time I came up with the idea of writing a screenplay for a movie that would encapsulate the whole Indie-pop era. Every other genre of music seemed to have a film(or films) of it's own, from punk to disco, from hip-hop to Ska, it was time for our generation's movie. The film was originally to be called 'The Girl Who Runs The Beat Hotel' and would look something in tone to The Comic Strip's short 'The Beat Generation'. Bobby Gillespie would play the owner of the said hotel, Winona Ryder would play the girl who arrives to take over(Sky Saxon would play her dad!), Stephen Pastel would play a record company executive, Jim and William Reid would play bellboys, Lawrence from Felt would play a mysterious entrepreneur in no way based on Andy Warhol, The BMX Bandits would be the house band, and there would be cameos from Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon, Clare Grogan, Alan McGee, Hue Poohstick, Amelia Fletcher, Dan Treacy, Julian Cope, The Field Mice, The Vaselines, The Cocteau Twins and Mark E Smith would arrive at the end to evict everyone. After I heard this single I changed the title of the film to 'The Girl Who Plays The Tambourine' but tragically, or perhaps thankfully, never got round to completing the screenplay. In fact, never got further than writing the title on a scrap of A4 paper. Listening to this wonderful song releases all the emotive feelings I experienced back then, and makes me feel charged, creative and incredibly happy.
The interesting thing about The Chesterfields is that this song is the only one of theirs that actually sounds like it. Most of their output sounds like they're actually not taking the whole thing very seriously at all. The vocals on nearly every other track of theirs bar this one, are a bit irritatingly childish. I don't know if this song is sung by an alternative vocalist to every other song they recorded, but it certainly sounds different. One thing I do like about them though is that they called their debut album 'Kettle' purely so that they could get free publicity from Coronation Street every time Rita Fairclough said "Put kettle on, Love"....hahaha that still makes me laugh to this day.
So, to recap, not just a brilliant song, but perhaps the only good one about a journalist; "And would you like to know who’s No. 1 in our hearts// Johnny Dee!// Yes, Mr. Pop at the top of our charts// Johnny Dee// And would you like to know where we’re staying tonight// With Johnny Dee// And so is the girl who plays the tambourine!"
So the marketers of “Salt” have a new digital campaign meant to pique interest in Angelina Jolie’s new spy thriller. But try as they might, all they seem to be accomplishing is to make me worry about my sodium intake. “DON’T TRUST SALT!” “SALT MUST DIE!” “SALT KILLS!” Am I the only one who has a sudden urge to look into high blood pressure medications? Also, call me paranoid, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Mrs. Dash is behind all of this.
Look, I know they’re trying to be all mysterious. I know they want to build buzz. But come on, they’re missing the biggest marketing advantage this movie has. Hello, your movie star is Angelina Jolie. No one cares about Salt, except possibly the Surgeon General. Everyone cares about Angelina Jolie, except possibly Jennifer Aniston. Just plaster her face all over posters and be done with it. Show her with a gun. Show her kicking ass. Show her with blonde hair. Show her with black hair. Just show her. She’s Angelina freaking Jolie.
I would even prefer slightly off-center, OCD-triggering Angelina Jolie to no Angelina Jolie. Unless, of course, I’ve misunderstood the entire film’s premise and this is really a probing expose of the Morton Salt Girl. Why is she carrying an umbrella while spilling salt? Is the salt some sort of chemical weapon? Is she a terrorist? Oh my god, SALT DOES KILL!
Though, now that I think about it, Angelina in a movie about the Morton Salt Girl, now that’s a movie that screams Oscar. The unwanted water retention alone would nab her a nomination.
You know, at first I wasn’t that into “Nikita.” Sure, the rogue assassin series reboot for the CW features one of my favorite TV archetypes: The hot girl who kicks ass. Still for whatever reason I just didn’t feel that excited. I think it’s because the CW is known more for hot gossip than killer action. But that was before I found out Maggie Q’s tattoos are real. Yes, real. Dude. Of course, I should have been on the bandwagon from the start. Asian girls got to represent. But to be honest all I knew about her was that she was in that “Mission: Impossible” threequel I never saw and had done work in Hong Kong. Well, welcome home, Ms. Quigley.
