Rocks In The Attic #748: The Eagles – ‘Their Greatest Hits 1971-1975’ (1976)

I’ve never been too much of a fan of pre-Joe Walsh Eagles. It’s all a bit too country, too many jangling guitars. I prefer the edgier twin-guitar RAWK of Don Felder and Joe Walsh, rather than this singer-songwriter stuff.

I’ll still love Hotel California to the day I die, but there’s a reason this greatest hits set has sold so many copies. For a very long time, it was the best-selling album of the twentieth century in the USA, until it was finally surpassed by Michael Jackson’s Thriller following his death in 2009.

Seeing the Eagles live recently – or what is left of the band, having lost Glenn Frey a couple of years ago – I was reminded just how good this earlier material is. When you’re listening to six guys blast out a wall of harmonies, it sounds unbelievable.

Frey’s death at the age of 67 left a gaping hole in the band. Don Henley’s voice is too smooth, too AOR in comparison, and Walsh’s voice is too weird, too out there. Would they get somebody else in to stand in for Frey?

The answer is yes…and no. Established singer-songwriter Vince Gill was brought into the band to fill the gap left by Frey’s absence. His guitar playing and singing – particularly a standout performance on Take It To The Limit – more than earned his place alongside Felder and Walsh.

The band’s secret weapon though was a clone of Glenn Frey, in the form of his 25-year old son, Deacon Frey. Young and handsome (next to the old men he shared a stage with), his vocals and acoustic guitar on the songs his father used to tackle – Take It Easy, Peaceful Easy Feeling, Already Gone – was uncanny. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. And good on him – apparently his first show with the band was at Dodger Stadium, so very much launched into life in the fast lane.

The big question though was how the guitar solos on Hotel California were going to be handled. Lead-guitarist Steuart Smith was clearly the replacement for Don Felder, but I was curious whether he would play the song on a double-necked guitar as per his predecessor. Worry not, a blast of Mexican trumpet led into the opening 12-string acoustic section of the song, with a solitary spotlight on Smith playing a double-neck. My favourite guitar solo/s didn’t disappoint.

I expected the Eagles greatest hits – and got it! – but what I didn’t expect was the various solo songs by Joe Walsh and Don Henley. This was just as good – Walsh’s In The City, Walk Away, Life’s Been Good, Funk #49 and Rocky Mountain Way, and weirdly as a closer to the night (much to the chagrin of the man sat next to me), Don Henley’s The Boys Of Summer.

I wasn’t sure about seeing the band with so few original members, and not only were the wife and I both sick with head-colds, but we were also sat about 50 seats in from the aisles, which made getting out for refreshments virtually impossible. Despite all of this, it was still fantastic.

Hit: Take It Easy

Hidden Gem: Already Gone

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Rocks In The Attic #747: Various Artists – ‘Sharky’s Machine (O.S.T.)’ (1981)

Thank God I had a video recorder in my room, growing up. It might have been a top-loader – much to the amusement of anybody who saw it – but it did the job. It meant that I could tape films in the middle of the night, rather than staying up and propping my eyelids open. When a teacher asks you why you’re so tired in class, it’s never a good idea to say that you stayed up to watch The Eiger Sanction.

I would record anything that sounded exciting: anything starring Clint Eastwood, Charles Bronson, Burt Reynolds, Sylvester Stallone, Kurt Russell, Bruce Willis, Rutger Hauer, Harrison Ford, Chuck Norris, and so on. Thankfully, the action genre is a little more racially diverse these days; I essentially grew up on a diet of white dude action heroes.

An old favourite was always Sharky’s Machine, directed by and starring Burt Reynolds, very much at the top of his game. Reynolds plays Tom Sharky, a tough Atlanta cop who gets transferred to the vice department. There, he discovers a high-class prostitution ring, and slowly falls in love with one of the girls as he stakes out her apartment.

On a recent re-watch, I admit it’s not a great film. But there’s just something about American cop thrillers from the ‘70s and ‘80s that I adore: the cityscapes, the grittiness, and the endless banks of lit-up office blocks against the night sky. For me, a weak script and a few hammy acting performances can usually be overlooked, purely on the strength of the filming locations.

Reynolds also oversaw the soundtrack, alongside producer Snuff Garrett. This move – with Reynolds directing and overseeing the soundtrack – almost makes him a proto-Tarantino character, with Reynold’s only real contribution to that universe being his appearance in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Tarantino-esque Boogie Nights in 1997. The other connection, of course, being the inclusion of Randy Crawford’s Street Life on both the Sharky’s Machine soundtrack, and the soundtrack to Tarantino’s Jackie Brown.

Originally the opening track on the Crusaders’ 1979 album of the same name, Street Life was originally a slower, 11-minute song featuring a guest vocal by Randy Crawford. The version recorded for the Sharky’s Machine soundtrack was recorded by Doc Severinson, who also composed the original score for the film, and is credited only to Randy Crawford. This shorter version of Street Life is far punchier and more direct than the Crusaders’ original, and is a stone-cold funk / soul gem.

The inner gatefold of the record shows a wonderful photo collage of the recording sessions, alongside publicity stills from the film. The liner notes read: For Sharky’s Machine, Burt Reynolds and Snuff Garrett have brought together some of the greatest jazz talents in history. This is followed by a detailed list of all the participants, most of which are unrecognisable to my uncultured eyes.

Hit: Street Life – Randy Crawford

Hidden Gem: Sexercise – Doc Severinsen

Rocks In The Attic #746: John Carpenter & Alan Howarth – ‘Prince Of Darkness (O.S.T.)’ (1987)

It’s a sad state of affairs when a horror film provokes not terror, but boredom. The first hour of this film easily qualifies as the worst of John Carpenter’s work up to that point. The audience is just as confused as the students in the film, as they try to understand who the central protagonist is (answer: there isn’t one), and why they’re setting up equipment in a creepy old church (answer: nobody knows, not even Carpenter).

Sandwiched between the director’s mainstream hit (Big Trouble In Little China) and his – in retrospect – return to form (They Live), Prince Of Darkness is an odd film. It’s clear that Carpenter is trying to revisit themes that have worked for him before – a band of individuals in a locked-off location (Assault On Precinct 13) slowly get picked off one by one (The Thing) – but this time, it just doesn’t work.

I admit that things do start to pick up in the second half of the film with some rip-roaring special effects, as the students are finally confronted by their possessed classmates (essentially zombies without the makeup), but by that point any emotional investment in the characters has dried out. Even a cameo appearance by the Godfather of Shock Rock, Alice Cooper, can’t make it right.

As always, the score by Carpenter himself, working alongside his now-regular collaborator Alan Howarth, is the film’s saving grace. A slow-burning synth workout.

Hit: Opening Titles

Hidden Gem: Hell Breaks Loose

Rocks In The Attic #745: Jeff Beck – ‘Blow By Blow’ (1975)

I’ve been getting my funk back, these last few months. Something I’ve been meaning to listen to again was this, Blow By Blow, Jeff Beck’s head-first dive into funk from 1975.

It’s a stunning album. Produced by George Martin (at his AIR studios in London), it’s a fully instrumental record – aside from a few appearances by a talk-box on the almost unrecognisable cover of the Beatles’ She’s A Woman, and the funk workout, Thelonius.

What’s this honky doing, recording a funk album in the middle of the 1970s, you might ask. In fact, only the drummer of the group, Richard Bailey, is black. The bass player, Phil Chen, is Chinese, while Beck and keyboardist Max Middleton are as white as you can get. And that’s not even mentioning George Martin, who’s so white, he’s almost transparent.

Still, Stevie Wonder was heavily involved with this record, which gives it more than an air of authenticity. Two of Wonder’s unrecorded songs, Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers and Thelonius were gifted to Beck, with Stevie even playing a FUNKY (but uncredited) clavinet line on the latter.

Of course, I shouldn’t be so glib. It shouldn’t be about race. Anybody can be funky. It’s just that the common misconception is that white man can’t funk. But try telling that to the Average White Band. Or the Goodies.

Hit: Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers

Hidden Gem: You Know What I Mean

Rocks In The Attic #744: Janis Joplin – ‘Pearl’ (1971)

I’m not saying the rest of my pub quiz team are not up to scratch, but this week we were faced with a multiple choice question: Which of these three people didn’t die at the age of 27? Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, or Bob Marley.

I wrote down Bob Marley, of course; the other two being probably the most famous inductees of the original ’27 Club’, alongside Jim Morrison.

‘Janis Joplin isn’t dead,’ one of my team-mates said. ‘She was on tour here last year.’

Not only is it annoying to be questioned on something you know to be 100% correct, it’s also frustrating to have to explain yourself – particular to somebody from the generation that the question is relevant to.

‘No, she wasn’t’ I countered. ‘She definitely died at 27. The answer’s Bob Marley.’

‘Oh,’ my team-mate replied, unconvinced. ‘So Bob Marley was younger than 27?’

‘No, he will have been older,’ I said, losing the will to live myself.

As we found out when they read out the answer, Marley died at 36. I couldn’t go into the myth around him being killed by Danny Baker. There was no time.

Pearl is Janis’ second and final studio album, released three months following her death from a heroin overdose. As well as featuring an instrumental – Buried Alive In The Blues – because she died before adding her vocals, the album also features the very last song she ever recorded.

Recorded just three days before her death, Mercedes Benz has become famous more recently for appearing in a, you guessed it, Mercedes-Benz commercial. The song is a sweet a capella by Joplin, espousing the merits of consumerism, and sounds just as haunting as Otis Redding’s final session which produced (Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay.

Incidentally, Otis didn’t even make 27. He died shortly after his 26^th birthday.

Hit: Mercedes Benz

Hidden Gem: Move Over

2019 Best Picture Nominees – Ranked From Worst To Best

Around this time every year, I write about my picks for the Best Picture nominees. This is the third year running I’ve done this (after the 2017 and 2018 awards) and it’s something I’ve really started looking forward to.

It seems to be a really shallow pool this year, with all of the major awards being spread across a relatively low number of films. I usually struggle to watch all of the Best Picture nominees in time before the awards (given New Zealand’s position in the world when it comes to release schedules), but this year I’ve managed to watch almost all of the films nominated in all the major categories.

The only films I’ve yet to see are If Beale Street Could Talk (nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Supporting Actress) and Cold War (nominated for Best Director). Still, it’s the best I’ve done for years. I’ve seen everything else nominated for Best Picture and Best Director, and everything else in the acting and writing categories. It’s good timing too, as this is the first time in years I’ll be able to watch the awards live on TV – it’s been wrestled away from Sky TV and is being broadcast on Free-To-Air in New Zealand. I’ve taken the afternoon off on Monday so I can watch it all by myself. I told my boss that this is my Cup Final, and would happily sit in the pub watching it if I could, drinking beers and shouting “You’re not singing, you’re not singing, you’re not singing anymore!” at the screen (a chant that could be utilised when people lose out in the awards, and also when people finish singing the musical numbers).

Before we get to my pick of the year’s 30 (!) honourable mentions, here’s my ranking of the Best Picture nominees, from worst to best:

8^th: Black Panther (Ryan Coogler, 2018)

As many have pointed out, this wasn’t even the best Marvel film to be released last  year. I’m all for genre films starting to get nominated for Best Picture again – it used to happen in the 1970s before the ‘message’ films of the 1980s started to focus the Academy’s gaze – but if you’re going to do it, at least pick a better film.

Last August, the Academy announced a new category – Outstanding Achievement In Popular Film – such was their desire to recognize this film (before changing their minds following a public outcry that it trivialised the awards). Their need to recognise Black Panther, for its predominately African-American cast, together with it being the highest-grossing film of all time by a black director, seems to be a purely political move. This is very strange in a year when multiple nominations awarded to BlacKkKlansman and If Beale Street Could Talk would have spared the Academy from any accusations of white-washing.

As a result of their misplaced focus on making sure Black Panther gets some awards attention, the Academy has completely overlooked female directors. Susanne Bier (Bird Box), Debra Granik (Leave No Trace), Marielle Heller (Can You Ever Forgive Me?), Dorota Kobiela (Loving Vincent), Lynne Ramsey (You Were Never Really Here), Josie

Rourke (Mary Queen Of Scots) and Chloe Zhao (The Rider) were all overlooked for both Best Director and Best Picture. I don’t think there should be a quota in place to ensure female and black directors are recognized. It should be a meritocracy, and each one of these films is a far better picture than Ryan Coogler’s superhero film.

Black Panther: A marvel only in its mediocrity.

7^th: Bohemian Rhapsody (Bryan Singer, 2018)

I’ve already written at length about my problems with this film. I’m kind of jealous that everybody enjoyed it so much, but the historical inaccuracies just overshadowed everything in my eyes. Maybe if I didn’t already know so much about Queen, I might have enjoyed it. The attention thrown at Rami Malek in the acting categories is also surprising. His low energy / none-existent charisma just doesn’t translate, and a pair of false teeth does not a Freddie Mercury make.

6^th: Green Book (Peter Farrelly, 2018)

A film about racism for stupid people.

 

5^th: A Star Is Born (Bradley Cooper, 2018)

Having avoided the original 1936 version, the 1954 remake with Judy Garland, and the most recent 1976 version, I didn’t really know what to expect with A Star Is Born. The Joy Of Sex poster for the 1976 version, featuring a naked Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson, just put me off watching any of them. It almost put me off cinema for good. I didn’t rush to see this one either, as I met somebody late last year who spoiled the ending within minutes of us being introduced. Yeah, thanks.

It seems an odd choice for a Best Picture nomination. Even with a brand new script, the simple fact that three versions of the film already exist suggests that innovation and originality isn’t a high priority for Academy voters. It’s a joke that this film was nominated when other more deserving films – First Man in particular – were overlooked.

Still, Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga turn in fine performances, and the music is solid enough. 2009’s Crazy Heart – surely a point of reference for debut director and co-writer Cooper – was a far better film in a similar vein.

4^th: BlacKkKlansman (Spike Lee, 2018)

I’m hot and cold about Spike Lee. Once you get beyond his first couple of seminal films (joints?), his hit rate really starts to suffer. For every Inside Man (brilliant!), there’s a Summer Of Sam (laughable!). Advance word of BlacKkKlansman was strong, and despite me initially getting it mixed up with a Dave Chappelle sketch about a blind black man joining the Klan, I really enjoyed it.

In the lead role, John David (son of Denzel) Washington shows he has a bright future, Adam Driver is as watchable as ever, and it was great to see Topher Grace back in the spotlight playing the slimy KKK Grand Wizard David Duke. What a dumbass.

3^rd: Roma (Alfonso Cuarón, 2018)

Cuarón was the first Mexican-born director to win Best Director (for 2013’s Gravity), and while it looks very likely that he’ll repeat that accolade this year, a Best Picture win would actually make him the third Mexican winner in the last five years (following Alejandro González Iñárritu and Guillmero del Toro).

Roma is a beautiful film. Beautifully shot, beautifully acted and beautifully told. The fact that it’s possible to see such a film on a streaming service is either a positive or a negative, depending on how you look at it. While it’s availability on Netflix massively increases its potential audience, ultimately it could mean that future art-house films will follow this down the path of least resistance: streaming rather than screening.

Joint 1^st: The Favourite (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2018) and Vice (Adam McKay, 2018)

I was so impressed by both of these films, that I just can’t separate them. On one hand, you have bizarro Greek director Yorgos “is as good as mine” Lanthimos with period black comedy The Favourite, his follow-up to The Lobster (yay!) and The Killing Of A Sacred Deer (nay!). On the other hand, you have Adam McKay’s Dick Chaney biopic Vice, his follow-up to The Big Short.

Both films are served by incredible acting performances. In McKay’s film, Best Actor nominee Christian Bale puts in a career-best performance (in a career full of career-best performances), inhabiting the role of Vice President Dick Cheney, with Best Supporting nods to Sam Rockwell (George W. Bush) and Amy Adams (Lynne Chaney). While in Lanthimos’ film, British national treasure Olivia Colman (Queen Anne) is nominated for Best Actress, with both Rachel Weisz (Sarah Churchill) and Emma Stone (Abigail Masham) up for Best Supporting Actress.

Both films are nominated for Best Director, Best Original Screenplay (Adam McKay for Vice, Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara for The Favourite), and Best Film Editing (Hank Corwin for Vice and Yorgos “is as good as mine whether I can make this same joke twice” Mavropsaridis for The Favourite). A couple of additional nominations in Production Design, Cinematography, Costume Design round out The Favourite, while Vice also picks up a nomination for Makeup & Hairstyling.

The reason it’s so hard to choose between the two films is that in addition to everything else, they’re both very strong in defying convention. I’d usually run a mile from a historical period drama and a political biopic, but The Favourite and Vice transcend their respective genres. The Favourite is more concerned with the interplay between its three principals and a few choice insults (“You look like a badger”), while Vice borrows the fourth-wall narrative framework of The Big Short with Jesse Plemons explaining Cheney’s actions to the audience in bite-size chunks.

I really like the fact that The Favourite is spelt with a ‘u’, and the use of Elton John’s lovely harpsichord ballad Skyline Pigeon (from his oft-overlooked 1969 debut album) almost makes up for the horrible typeface they used on the closing credits.

Mark Gatiss and Nicholas Hoult round out the cast of The Favourite, but the supporting cast of Vice is something else. Alongside Sam Rockwell, Steve Carell leads a supporting cast including Alfred Molina, Eddie Marsan, Tyler Perry and Alison Pill.

Bale looks, sounds and acts incredibly like Cheney – stopping mere inches short of over-egging his mannerisms, and the rest of Bush’s White House administration look just as authentic. Donald Rumsfeld, Colin Powell and Condoleeza Rice all look fantastic and as close to the real thing as you could get.

Both films deal with what goes on behind the doors of power. But the fact that we’re all still living with the consequences of Cheney’s actions makes Vice all the more frightening, and for that it’s the most important film of the year.

Honourable Mentions

 

Here are my other favourite (eligible) films from the year (in alphabetical order):

American Animals (Bart Layton, 2018) – True story retelling of a group of college kids carrying out a major robbery. Part-documentary, part-heist thriller, it’s narrated by the participants themselves. The story is told in a really clever way, dealing with differing viewpoints and conflicting memories.

Annihilation (Alex Garland, 2018) – The year of the Netflix movie got underway with this creepy sci-fi mystery, directed by the author of The Beach and screenwriter of 28 Days Later and Sunshine.

At Eternity’s Gate (Julian Schnabel, 2018) – Willem Defoe turns in a career-best performance as Vincent Van Gogh during his final years. Aside from some over-egged camera-work and editing, I really enjoyed this poetic struggle between natural beauty and personal insanity.

Bad Time At The El Royale (Drew Goddard, 2018) – After 2012’s excellent Cabin In The Woods, Drew Goddard was definitely somebody to watch out for. Like his previous film, he has again scripted another interesting story set in a locked-off location. A messy waste of a second half, but the Tarantino-esque set-up in the first half is just glorious.

The Ballad Of Buster Scruggs (Joel & Ethan Coen, 2018) – Another Netflix movie, this anthology film sees the Coens return to the western genre (after 2010’s True Grit); although aren’t all Coen Brothers films westerns to an extent? Some episodes resonate stronger than others, but a solid watch all the same.

Beast (Michael Pearce, 2017) – Hauntingly beautiful romantic thriller set on the island of Jersey. Stellar performances from leads Jessie Buckley and muso Johnny Flynn.

Bird Box (Susanne Bier, 2018) – Yet another Netflix offering, Sandra Bullock stars in a tense thriller somewhere between The Walking Dead and A Quiet Place. It feels very strange for Susanne Bier to direct a genre film, but I’ll take it. Features a great score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross (who seem to score every film these days).

Can You Ever Forgive Me? (Marielle Heller, 2018) – Wonderful true story account of author Lee Israel making ends meet by faking letters from literary giants. I spent the entire film imagining that Richard E. Grant’s Jack Hock was a later-in-life Montague H. Withnail, as the timeline sort of works out. It’s been fantastic to see Grant so enthused to be nominated (for Best Supporting Actor), posting selfies on Instagram with everybody he’s gleefully met on the awards circuit.

Chappaquiddick (John Curran, 2017) – Australian actor Jason Clarke is good in anything you put him in, and he shines here as Senator Ted Kennedy, underachieving younger brother to John F. and Robert. A low-key examination of a major cover-up by one of the most powerful politic families in history.

Death Wish (Eli Roth, 2018) – Being a fan of the original Charles Bronson films, I wasn’t looking forward to this; surely another pointless remake. My low hopes were rewarded with an enjoyable slice of b-movie action, in a revitalised revenge / vigilantism genre (Taken, The Equalizer, Mandy, Revenge) that shows no signs of stopping.

Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far On Foot (Gus Van Sant, 2018) – Joaquin Phoenix keeps on circling that Best Actor Oscar with this, his portrayal of disabled cartoonist John Callahan. After losing out for Walk The Line (2005) and The Master (2012), could this be his year?

First Man (Damien Chazelle, 2018) – You can smell the grease and hear the rattle of the 1960s technology that (allegedly!) put man on the moon, in this superb biopic of Neil Armstrong. His second collaboration with Chazelle, Ryan Gosling mumbles his way through the perfect film for him – as much a meditation on the grief of losing a child, as a celebration of the technological advances of mankind. A crime this wasn’t nominated for Best Picture.

Free Solo (Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi & Jimmy Chin, 2018) – Documentary following the ‘will he / won’t he’ climbing of El Capitan without ropes by Alex Honnold. As gripping (credit to my wife) and tense as cinema gets, this was a very, very hard watch.

Game Night (Jeff Tomsic, 2018) – Hollywood has made some really solid comedies in the last decade – Horrible Bosses, 21 Jump Street, We’re The Millers – and Game Night continues the tradition (last year’s Tag was also a good watch). Jason Bateman, Rachel McAdams and friends get involved in a murder mystery they think is just a game, but turns out to be very real.

Hereditary (Ari Aster, 2018) – Hollywood horror has been largely overshadowed by stronger foreign films for most of the last ten years, preferring instead to shovel up predictable jump-scares and pointless remakes. Hereditary is a return to form and something far more real and disturbing. Marketed as ‘this generation’s Exorcist’, it’s more of a retread of Rosemary’s Baby. So good, I re-watched it almost immediately; psychological horror done right.

Incredibles 2 (Brad Bird, 2018) – A sequel to the best Pixar film so far could have been a mistake, but under the same director in Brad Bird, it just about works despite some messy plotting in the final act.  The absence of the definite article in the title is disappointing though.

Instant Family (Sean Anders, 2018) – Solid comedy with its heart in the right place, despite the usual amount of Hollywood schmaltz. Gets close to doing for comedies what 2017’s The Big Sick did for rom-coms.

Leave No Trace (Debra Granik, 2018) – Subtle drama about a war veteran and his teenage daughter attempting to live off the grid. Ben Foster – as fantastic as always – shines alongside newcomer (and New Zealander) Thomasin McKenzie.

Loving Vincent (Dorota Kobiela / Hugh Welchman, 2017) – The last 12 months have been a drought in terms of trips to the cinema. Kids, work and other things have got in the way. One of my biggest regrets is not catching this on the big screen. Beautifully hand-painted, this rotoscope-style animation tells the tragic tale of Van Gogh’s short life. Part mystery, part love-letter to the Grandfather of modern art.

mid90s (Jonah Hill, 2018) – A nostalgic tribute to the skate-culture of his youth, Jonah Hill has written and directed an impressive first film.  Another score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross alongside hip-hop gems from the period.

Mile 22 (Peter Berg, 2018) – Peter Berg has made some really solid action films with Mark Wahlberg – Lone Survivor, Deepwater Horizon and Patriots Day – and this is their fourth collaboration, with a fifth due later this year. This one finds Wahlberg’s CIA team tasked with moving a high-priority asset twenty-two miles through a South East Asian city. As tense as thrillers get.

Mission: Impossible – Fallout (Christopher McQuarrie, 2018) – The Cruiser’s Mission: Impossible films should have run out of steam by now. Despite the wet squib that was John Woo’s Mission: Impossible 2, the rest of the series has been fantastic, and this sixth film didn’t disappoint. Features a brawl in a men’s restroom that might just be the best action sequence I saw all year. Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson: take note.

A Quiet Place (John Krasinski, 2018) – The horror community seems to be divided on whether this qualifies as a horror film or not. Who cares when the film’s this good? John ‘Jim From The Office’ Krasinski stars and directs his real-life wife, Emily Blunt, as their family try to survive in silence after an alien invasion.

Searching (Aneesh Chaganty, 2018) – Presented entirely via computer and smartphone screens, this shouldn’t work. After a few scenes you just get used to it, as you follow John (Harold, of Harold & Kumar fame) Cho’s frantic search for his missing daughter. Pitched as the first ever mainstream Hollywood thriller to star an Asian-American actor (my blind ignorance doubted that at first, but it seems to be correct), this innovative film treads similar ground to Denis Villeneuve’s Prisoners (2013) and offers a horrifying peak at how such events unfold in today’s digital world.

Shoplifters (Hirokazu Kore-eda, 2018) – Japanese drama about an odd family unit living in poverty. Has the same, shuffling pace as something like 1953’s Tokyo Story, but deals with the social class at the other end of the spectrum. The gradually unfolding explanation of who everybody is, in relation to everybody else, is really well handled.

Sorry To Bother You (Boots Riley, 2018) – Nuts dark comedy about a young black man who puts on a white voice to excel in his telemarketing job. I stayed on the ride as long as I could, but it lost me in its final third.

Suspiria (Luca Guadagnino, 2018) – Remake of Dario Argento’s seminal horror places the action in 1977, the year of the original film’s release. Dakota Johnson joins a dance academy in divided Berlin, where all is not as it seems. Quite a muted film for a horror…until its roaring finale.

Teen Titans Go! To The Movies (Peter Rida Michail / Aaron Horvath, 2018) – An incredibly fun blast through a thousand pop-culture superhero references, this requires multiple viewings to catch everything. A great fart joke in the first few minutes sets the ball rolling nicely, as all fart jokes should.

Three Identical Strangers (Tim Wardle, 2018) – Engrossing documentary which first marvels about the bond between identical triplets separated at birth, but then leaves you seething at mankind for the actions of those pulling the strings.

You Were Never Really Here (Lynne Ramsay, 2017) – After 2002’s excellent Morvern Callar, and the success of 2011’s We Need To Talk About Kevin, we had to wait another six years to see what Lynne Ramsay would do next. This taut, gritty thriller starring Joaquin Phoenix fits somewhere between Taxi Driver (1976) and Drive (2011). The role couldn’t be any different to Pheonix’s part in Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far On Foot, but while Ramsay’s film won him the Best Actor at Cannes last year, it seems too much of a leftfield choice for the Academy.

My Picks For The 24

Finally, here are my picks for what the Academy will actually vote for on the night. I’ll try to remember to mark these next year to see how close I got!

Best Picture: The Favourite

Best Director: Roma

Best Actor: Christian Bale

Best Actress: Olivia Colman

Best Supporting Actor: Adam Driver

Best Supporting Actress: Emma Stone

Best Original Screenplay: Vice

Best Adapted Screenplay: Can You Ever Forgive Me?

 

Best Animated Feature Film: Isle Of Dogs

Best Foreign Language Film: Roma

Best Documentary – Feature: Free Solo

Best Documentary – Short Subject: Lifeboat

Best Live Action Short Film: Skin

Best Animated Short Film: Bao

Best Original Score: If Beale Street Could Talk

Best Original Song: Shallow from A Star Is Born

Best Sound Editing: First Man

Best Sound Mixing: Bohemian Rhapsody

Best Production Design: The Favourite

Best Cinematography: Roma

Best Makeup And Hairstyling: Vice

Best Costume Design: The Favourite

Best Film Editing: Vice

Best Visual Effects: Ready Player One

Rocks In The Attic #742: The Commodores – ‘Caught In The Act’ (1975)

Outside of James Brown and the rest of his funky people (the J.B.s, Maceo & The Macks, Lyn Collins, etc), the Commodores might just be my favourite funk band. These first few albums, before Lionel Richie started writing ballads, are just so damn groovy.

My current jam is I’m Ready, the fourth cut from this, their second studio album. I’m partial to an instrumental (see Pick Up The Pieces and Machine Gun), and to a funky clavinet line (see Superstition), and this melds the two perfectly.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but it’s such a shame that Lionel Richie was such a great songwriter. He turned a very funky band into a radio-friendly pop band by way of some nice piano tunes, and ultimately became a household name, bigger than the band that spawned him.

You can see the start of his balladry on side-one closer This Is Your Life. It isn’t Easy or Three Times A Lady, but it’s such a departure from the funk workout that precedes it, that you can definitely hear something change in the band. It’s almost like a switch is flicked. An A&R man somewhere suddenly raised his eyebrows.

I love the cover of this record too: six funky black guys with collars and lapels as big as their afros.

Hit: Slippery When Wet

Hidden Gem: I’m Ready