Album: Mezmerize (System of a Down)
I first got into System of a Down in 2002 when I heard my brother's copy of Toxicity. I guess for me, 2002 was just the right year for frustrated, angry, loud metal music, because I almost devoured that album during the first month I listened to it. Daron Malakian's guitar lines came at me fast and furious, and Serj Tankian's voice was like nothing I'd ever heard before: angry and melodic, with an almost-comic delivery that really intrigued me. Steal This Album wasn't as strong an effort as Toxicity, but it was still a good album that had them expanding lyrically and musically. Their music was intelligent, melodic, and chaotic, and I loved every minute of it. With two albums (this was before I'd listened to their equally great self-titled debut), System of a Down had carved out their own important niche in the "Angry and Loud" section of my musical palate.
When I picked up the new album Mezmerize, I anticipated another very strong outing, full of vitriolic lyrics and frustrating guitar lines, and I got that in spades. With lyrics like B.Y.O.B.'s "Why don't presidents fight the war? / Why do they always send the poor?" the band keeps churning out their anti-authoritarian views (the recent U.S. election gave them plenty of fuel for their musical furnace). The lyrics are sometimes repetitive - one song has a total of six different lines - but they're usually meaningful and almost always singable.
They also keep pushing the limits of what traditional "hard rock" music has to sound like: I've always enjoyed bands that experiment with different sounds, and S.o.a.D. has a wide range of influences to draw from. For example, one of my favourite songs on the album, "Radio/Video" is metal peppered with influences from Armenian folk music. Another song "Question!", goes back and forth between choppy guitars and near-shouting to gentle acoustic guitars and a beautiful lyricism - and there's a stringed instrument in the background I can't identify, but it's nothing that lesser hard-rock groups would use. The songs shift tempo, dynamic, and lyrical content with a very calculated chaos, and it's a place I really like to be.
Except - it's not all good. There are two things that keep this album from matching the quality of those that came before it. I was suspicious of the first one before I even heard the music, from the moment I opened the package. On Toxicity, Malakian is credited as "Guitars / Vocals"; on Mezmerize, he's credited as "Vocals / Guitars". This is reflected by his vocal output on the album, and it is NOT a good thing. His voice is good for harmony vocals, especially high backing vocals, but he is not cut out to be a lead vocalist - he just doesn't have the chops to carry a whole song. Or even half of a song.
The other frustrating point isn't a quality that's overarching through the album, but rather one single song. "Old School Hollywood" is an example of all the things that can go wrong with a S.o.a.D. song going wrong all at once. Lyrics that make no sense, Malakian's whiny vocals on what passes for a verse, and the music almost sounds like Andrew W.K. (note: that means bad). Plus, having it back-to-back with the similarly-titled and far superior "Lost in Hollywood" just sets you up for unfavourable comparisons.
So really, aside from those two things, I can recommend this album with only a little trepidation. If I was going to give it a number ranking - and I am - I'd give it 7 out of 10; respectable, but not great. I recommend it to people who like hard rock or people who like Michael Moore, or people who like hard rock and Michael Moore.
Recommended Tracks: Radio/Video; Question!; Sad Statue; B.Y.O.B.
When I picked up my comics last week at my local Commick Shoppe, the man behind the counter looked over my choices and asked me, "What's the excitement about Desolation Jones?" "Warren Ellis," I replied. His response was a frown and a harrumph. Which I can sort of understand: some people really can't get behind Ellis's work. I think a lot of it has to do with the Glorious Bastard character type, which is a character that Ellis does very often - think Elijah Snow, Jenny Sparks, Miranda Zero, Lazarus Churchyard, and the man himself, Spider Jerusalem. The thing is, not only does Ellis write them very often, he usually does it rather well. Possibly because they're all extensions of himself and his outlook on the world, to some extent or another, but that's not something I want to get into here.
Plus - for good or ill - the man got me reading comic books again. The first time I picked up an issue of Transmetropolitan, in my friend Colin's apartment, I hadn't been reading comics for three or four years. It wasn't any conscious decision: the comic store in my home town had pulled up stakes overnight, leaving me without a supplier. But when I flipped through that first issue, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my skin started to tingle. This was good stuff. And I wanted more; more comics in general, but especially more of his stuff. I enjoy his work, and I enjoy the Glorious Bastard: I'm biased, and I make no secret about it.
But enough of my reminiscing. On to the review, as unbiased as I can make it.
Desolation Jones is the titular Glorious Bastard, a former MI6 agent and the only survivor of the mysterious "Desolation Test" who now lives in Los Angeles, which is secretly a prison for ex-spooks. Jones works as a private detective, solving mysteries for members of the community of retired spies. If the premise alone isn't enough to peak your interest, then I don't know what to say to you. Perhaps an evening of therapy involving spy movies and the drug of your choice would prime you for this book. Even if it doesn't, it sounds like a good night to me.The first issue does pretty much everything right: in thirty-two pages, you're introduced to a half-dozen characters, told about the theft of some valuable property - or is it a kidnapping? or both? - and thrown head-first into the bizarre world Jones inhabits. It's got a sampling of everything I've come to expect from Ellis: reflections on modern philosophy, violence, unique and interesting characters, and the kind of dialogue that the man has a virtual trademark on. Example: "Hitler porn, you bastard. It's going to be a nightmare." It's smart writing, folks, and it pushes you along at a frenetic pace at times.
The art, by J.H. Williams III is outstanding. It's not what I'm used to seeing from him (Promethea, anyone? Seven Soldiers, perhaps?), but Desolation Jones is not the kind of book that lends itself well to intricate detail and full-page splashes. The art is more subdued, more fragile, and he gives each character a distinct look. His panel composition sets the perfect tone and pace for each scene - especially memorable is when he draws out a single action over a two-page spread, emphasizing the intensity of the moment. I enjoy the art just as much as I enjoyed the writing, which was a pleasant surprise.
Desolation Jones #1 is a solid first issue, and I recommend it to people who like spy stories, bizarre situations, or rooting for a smartass. Plus, it's bimonthly, so it's not a huge strain on your wallet. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.
Movie: God of Gamblers, The Return (1994)
Reposted from Worst Ninja Ever (April 19, 2005):
Just finished watching "God of Gamblers: The Return," the 1994 sequel of the classic Hong Kong gambling fantadramedy starring Chow Yun-Fat. The film features the return of Chow's "Ko Chun, the God of Gamblers" character and is set four years after the original "God of Gamblers." Here, Ko Chun has retired to Paris where he and his wife are expecting a son. Ko's idyllic life in self-imposed retirement is shattered when Chan Kam-Shing, Ko's final opponent in the original film, brings a new player to help him get revenge on Ko.
This new player is none other than Chao Siu Chi, the Taiwanese Devil of Gamblers, and he doesn't mess around. Within the first few minutes of the movie, Chao double-crosses Chan Kam-Shing when the two gamblers and their entourage invade Ko's mansion. When Ko returns with his faithful bodyguard Lung Wu, our heroes fight their way up to Ko's wife, who has had her unborn child mercilessly ripped from her womb by Chao. Ko makes a deathbed promise to his wife that he will neither gamble nor identify himself to be the God of Gamblers for one year. Of particular note during the firefight is a shot where Ko, with guns in hand, leaps to the side. Lung Wu kicks a couple of clips directly into the guns while Ko is in the air! Neat!
Unable to exact his revenge, Ko travels. 11 months later, he befriends Hoi On, a Taiwanese syndicate member who, unbeknownst to Ko, has ties to Chao Siu Chi (hey, they have to get these plots rolling somehow) through the Wung Tu Group. Due to some strife within the group Hoi dies, but not before making Ko promise to take Hoi's son home.
Along the way, Ko and little Hoi Yuen (Miu Tse) are captured by Chinese police captain Kok Ching-Chung. Ko and the child escape police custody and hole up in a hotel run by a man and his niece and nephew. The niece and nephew, nicknamed "Little Guitar" and "Little Trumpet," respectively, attempt to con Ko and Hoi Yuen but end up aiding and abetting the two fugitives when Captain Kok and the police arrive. Little Guitar, whose real name is Siu Yiu-Yiu, has a girlish crush on the God of Gamblers but doesn't believe a girl like her would ever be lucky enough to meet her favourite celebrity. She does, however, think her new traveling companion looks a bit like her idol when viewed from behind.
The entire group ends up in Taiwan a couple of days early. Minor hijinks ensue; Captain Kok loosens up, being promoted from caricature to sidekick/comedy relief; Siu Yiu-Yiu and Hoi Yuen manage to get themselves kidnapped by Chao's men; and Little Trumpet gets to play God of Gamblers to divert suspicion from Ko and to woo a pretty girl.
This all culminates in the final showdown between the God of Gamblers and the Devil of Gamblers. Two billion dollars, a hijacked US$16 billion children's fund, body parts and very lives of two of the greatest gamblers in the east rest on the table between the gambling duelists.
I found this film to be much more enjoyable than its predecessor. The story was much tighter and tension was higher, but the line between fantasy, comedy and drama is still very vague and transitory. I grew up with these kinds of films, so I didn't find it unusual that a dramatic scene can quickly take a slapstick turn, or a fantasy action sequence turns to comedy then drama, all within a few lines. The character of Ko Chun doesn't get much more development in this film, since it's assumed that the "God of Gamblers" is enough of a character for an audience to grasp. The supporting characters are there to give Ko Chun something to react to, and they are separated into two groups.
The first group is Ko's traveling companions, who are all colourful, dynamic and generally sunshine and lollipops. They are there to elicit sympathy when they're attacked, cheered when they fight, and give the stone cold Ko someone to empathize with. They are also there to provide the comedy. The other group is comprised of the big players: ruthless gamblers and heartless killers. They are there to do the dirty work and provide the dramatic tension. Except for Ko and maybe Hoi Yuen, neither of the two groups ever tread on each other's territory. Never do we see Siu Yiu-Yiu competently kick ass, or Lung Wu slip on a banana peel and fall into the bosom of a large woman. Hilarity never ensues when Chan Kam-Shing's around, and Captain Kok is never taken seriously enough to be considered a threat.
But that's par for the course. Archetypes, outrageously short shooting schedules and overdubbing are Hong Kong movie staples. This film isn't Oscar material, but it's got a little something for everyone. I would highly recommend this film as a stand-alone viewing experience, or in conjunction with its predecessor. Heck, I'd even recommend it as an introduction to the subgenre of fantasy gambling films, where martial arts and gambling combine for high stakes action and unreal gambling duels.
This film is not to be confused with Stephen Chow's similar sounding "Du sheng/All for the Winner" or "Dou hap/God of Gamblers II," which is sequel to both "God of Gamblers" (Andy Lau's "Dagger Chan" character co-stars) and "All for the Winner" (Stephen Chow's "Saint of Gamblers" character co-stars). Weird. The closest that North American films come to that would probably be the first few Quentin Tarantino films, all of which are complete-in-themselves films but are set in the same universe.
Movie: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005)
Crossposted from Worst Ninja Ever.
Okay, so "later" turned out to be "the next day." But here it is, whether you like it or not: a Ninja's "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" review. Be forewarned, it's full of nostalgia and references to the original 1981 television series, so if you haven't seen that, you may be a bit confuzzled.
I went into "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" (HGttG) with high hopes and some trepidation, based on my experiences with the television series, books and the pre-release trailers. The film itself is a mostly faithful large-scale reproduction of the original television series, even down to the characters' dialogue, which only added to my enjoyment of the film. Great special effects shots and an almost humble cinematography style, feeling as though one was treading on hallowed media ground, rounded off the film experience nicely. From the prologue musical number by the dolphins of the world to the familiar "Hitchhiker's" theme music to the completion of the Earth (Mk. II), I knew I was in for quite the experience.
Certain differences between the television series and the film were excusable--indeed, they were even expected, based on the different media and audiences involved. A television series could afford to draw things out, while a film could not. A film can put some scales into proper perspective, like the sheer magnitude of the Vogon constructor fleet, while a television series hasn't the budget to do. The difference in scale didn't bother me at all, and in fact, I would have been disappointed if all I got out of the movie was a duplicate of the television series I loved so much.
The changes in the storyline bothered me a bit, since they didn't appear in the book. The entire capture of Trillian and her subsequent rescue on Vogsphere, while action-packed and fodder for a number of sight gags and bureaucracy humour, seemed unnecessary and a little contrived to further develop the budding romance between Arthur and Trillian. I didn't mind the film's focus on that relationship, as Trillian was a ditzy, all too cheerful and somewhat undeveloped character in the television series, not to mention the actress who portrayed her in the film--Zooey Deschanel--is rather cute. I merely felt that the relationship could have been developed without straying that far from the source material. Easy to say when I'm so far removed from the creative process, I know, but that's how I feel.
This leads me to the casting of the film. No problems here, save one, and it's a biggie. Zaphod Beeblebrox, played by Sam Rockwell, was so far removed from my image of the character--influenced, no doubt, by the television version's understated conceit and arrogance--that I found him to be obnoxious, random and dislikable. The film version wasn't hip or cool, nor did he fit what I would consider to be a "hoopy frood." Heck, his look didn't even appear able to win "Worst Dressed Sentient Being in the Universe" seven years running.
I really enjoyed the byplay between Martin Freeman's Arthur Dent and Mos Def's Ford Prefect. While different from their television counterparts, they really played up Ford's alien-ness and Arthur's reluctant acceptance of the strange goings-on around him. Those two characters form, in my opinion, the core of the "Hitchhiker's" story, and working the radio, television and film versions around that interaction was and is the best possible thing their respective creator could have done to bring the books to life. Simon Jones, television's Arthur Dent, had a cameo in the film as the recorded message of the planet Magrathea.
Marvin the Paranoid Android was another greatly enjoyable change. Cut from wholly dirrerent cloth than his television counterpart, the film's Marvin is a short, sleek robot just as suited to the minimalistic sleekness of the film's Heart of Gold spacecraft as the television's Marvin is to his own Heart of Gold. Played by the inimitable Warwick Davis, best known for his roles as the Leprechaun in all six movies of that franchise and Wicket the Ewok in "Return of the Jedi"--and, more recently, as Professor Flitwick in the "Harry Potter" films--Marvin provided much of the comedy relief in the film. Voice work by Alan Rickman, known lately as Severus Snape from the "Harry Potter" films, truly made the film Marvin a great casting choice all around.
Despite his creation by Douglas Adams specifically for the film, John Malkovich's Humma Kavula played a too-brief foil to Zaphod Beeblebrox. His multiple spider legs and calm and collected demeanor were a perfect foil to the out of control, manic Zaphod. Not only did he not get a lot of screen time, his little subplot that brought the Heart of Gold to Magrathea was never resolved at all. I would have liked to see more of his character.
The other notable casting choices were Stephen Fry as the voice of the Guide, and Bill Nighy's portrayal of Slartibartfast. Fry was a perfect choice and greatly resembled the television series' Peter Jones. Nighy played a younger, if no less awkward Slartibartfast than Richard Vernon. Both are wonderful in their respective roles, and seem obvious nods to their television counterparts. Also, be on the lookout for cameos by Dame Helen Mirren as the voice of the supercomputer, Deep Thought, and an uncredited Jason Schwartzman as Zaphod's personal braincare specialist, Gag Halfrunt.
All in all, the film version of "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" was enjoyable, but due to the somewhat expositionary material provided by the Guide itself, I felt that it would have been better served as a brand new television series, and an English one, at that. The film version lacked the subtlety of some of the film's humour, with more of that subtlety lost due to the film's primarily North American target audience. It should be seen if one is at all a fan of the series of books, as it is a worthwhile adaptation, but if one is a purist, one should be prepared to be let down a few times. Even if one is not a fan, one should see it for its wacky humour, a decent romance between the hapless protagonist and the girl he thought lost forever, and the beautifully funny lines from Marvin the Paranoid Android.
