Author: ccradio

Reel 48: A Fan’s Eye View

Strap in, kids, this is going to be a long one.

It took forever for Sean and I to get to this particular episode, and both of us have been dying—DYING, I tells ya—to talk about Almost Famous. It may be Sean’s favorite film that doesn’t involve music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. It’s certainly one of the eleven films in my Top Ten. (See, that’s two pokes I took at him, there. I’ll be paying dearly for this soon, I’m sure.)

At any rate, this time around we’re looking at a couple of films where it’s a fan of the music who gets the insider’s view. And that fan is the audience surrogate for much of the action that takes place.

First up is 2000’s Almost Famous, Cameron Crowe’s semi-autobiographical love letter to 1970s-era Rock and Roll. It’s got everything you want in a movie: some laughs, some drama, some tension, a little sex (mostly implied), an amazing soundtrack and a genuine feel for the era in which it takes place. We were so anxious to talk about this film that it’s probably the longest segment we’ve ever recorded for one movie.

Likewise, in Part 2 we have 24 Hour Party People, a 2002 film by Michael Winterbottom. In this film we get a peek into a specific slice of the early days of the 1980s New Wave era. Likewise, Winterbottom puts us in the middle of the action and while we’re told outright that some of the events in the film didn’t actually happen the way they’re presented, this has a documentary feel that has you buying every last bit of it. And you already know it wasn’t like that!

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 
Next time around we’re looking at some butt-kicking female thieves. First up is Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon from 2000. Less well-known but still really good is Widows, a Steve McQueen film from 2008 that will grab you quickly and suddenly turn on a dime into a much different story.

Reel 47: Concept Album Musicals

Words and Movies Episode 47 cover, featuring Pink Floyd's The Wall and Quadrophenia

At last! The last of our “lost” episodes. It’s also almost the end of our run of music-based episodes. This time around we’re sitting in the screening room and looking at a pair of films based on concept rock albums.

First up is 1979’s Quadrophenia, based on the 1973 album of the same name by The Who. It  was directed by Frank Roddam and stars Phil Daniels and Leslie Ash. It’s a period piece, set in 1964, and it outlines the days leading up to a wild weekend for Mods and Rockers both. A fun side benefit of this episode is that my 11-month-old grandson is sitting on my lap for the first two-thirds of our discussion. So this is his podcasting debut, and as it happens, his diaper leaked during recording so I was working with my leg soaked with pee. (Was that too much information? Eh. It’s what you deal with when you’re dealing with the babies.)

From there we jump to 1982 and Pink Floyd—The Wall, based on the 1979 album The Wall by Pink Floyd. This film was directed by Alan Parker, but credit also has to be given to Gerald Scarfe, who produced the brilliant animated segments. Those animations take up a full 15 minutes of the 100 minute running time, so they’re no trifle. And we get so loquacious during this episode that we actually cross the 60-minute mark, once you account for music and Rebecca doing her bit.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 

Next time, we wrap up the musical films with a view from the fan’s perspective. First we start with Almost Famous, a film we’ve wanted to discuss almost since Episode One. Then it’s on to 24-Hour Party People, a truly quirky film from 2002 about the early days of New Wave music.

 

SHORT SUBJECT: The BFI/Sight and Sound 100 Greatest Films Ever (2022)

Not long ago, Sight and Sound, the magazine dedicated to film that’s run by the British Film Institute (BFI) published it’s eighth decennial list of the 100 Greatest Films Ever, as voted on by hundreds of film critics worldwide.

It’s fun to contrast this with the American Film Institute’s list, especially inasmuch as they’re so different. The AFI list’s #1 film, for instance? Well…it’s in the Top 20, anyway.

So Sean wanted to take a few minutes to react to the film that made it to the top of the BFI list, and a little about the process that led to this choice.

Episode 47 will drop in about a week. See you then!

Reel 46: David Bowie Musicals

…in fact, I got the film titles backward. Absolute Beginners is first. But this looks a little better, graphically (he said, twisting himself to justify the goof).

This is the second of our three “lost” episdoes, and it seems like we managed to cover all the same points we did the first time around.  Unfortunately, Sean wasn’t feeling well when we did this one, and I say that so you know why he doesn’t have his usual pep.

In this episode we look at a pair of musicals that have David Bowie in them, and in singing roles besides. And while Bowie is one of only a few live actors in one film, he’s still a relatively minor character, from a screen-time standpoint.

Both of these films are from 1986. As I noted above, we’re starting with Absolute Beginners, directed by Julien Temple. It stars Eddie O’Connell and Patsy Kensit as a pair of young adults working their way into British society and learning that their ideals have an unfortunate way of bumping into reality.

In Part 2 we check out Labyrinth, directed by Jim Henson. It stars Jennifer Connelly, David Bowie and a bunch of muppets. It was Henson’s last big project before his untimely death. Connelly does a fantastic job as a teenage girl who gets what she wishes for…and realizes what a mistake she’d made. We’d tell you to look for Star Trek: The Next Generation‘s Gates McFadden (the film’s choreographer) in the ballroom scene, but she’s wearing a mask, so you’re out of luck.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 

It’s the last of the Lost Episodes as we present films that are based on concept albums. First, from 1979 it’s Quadrophenia, and then we look at Pink Floyd: The Wall from 1982.

Reel 45: Before the Revolution

I know the matching doesn’t quite work but I still like the way the cover art for this one came out.

We’re back on track, episode number-wise. And in this case we’re looking at a couple of periods in time that aren’t very far apart. Despite their relative closeness on the calendar, they each represent a time before a big shift in the music scene.

First up is Honeydripper from 2007, written and directed by John Sayles. It stars Danny Glover as a bar owner who’s struggling to keep his business and his life afloat. Throughout the film he talks to a blind musician whose role is…well, I’ll leave that up to you to decide.

In Part 2 it’s 2013’s Inside Llewyn Davis, written and directed by the Coen Brothers, Joel and Ethan. Oscar Isaac plays Llewyn, who was once half of a folk duo but he’s striking out on his own. Why he’s doing this is something that gets explored during the film. The Coens, as usual, take a lot of interesting coincidences and a lot of dark comedy and turn it into a very enjoyable film. Llewyn is clearly based on folk singer Dave Van Ronk, though there are a few Bob Dylan elements thrown in. But the film takes place just before anyone knows who Bob Dylan even is. And the interesting thing is, the one thing tying all of the film’s elements together is…a cat. No kidding.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 

Episode 46 is the second of our “Lost Episodes,” as we take a peek at a pair of musical films from 1986 that feature David Bowie as a villain. First up is Absolute Beginners, directed by  Julien Temple. And in the second half, we take you into the Labyrinth, directed by Jim Henson in his last project before his untimely death.

Reel 43: Dublin Calling

It’s the Lost Episode! Sean and I went back and re-recorded this episode. Fortunately I store hardcopies of the film synopses, and Sean takes a ton of notes, and I do my usual blundering in between, and I’m pretty positive that we covered literally everything that we covered the first time around, with the exception of something I actually added that wasn’t there previously (it’s something I said at the end of the first segment).

This time, we’re looking at a pair of musicals set in the city of Dublin, Ireland. Our first film is 1991’s The Commitments, directed by Alan Parker. It’s the story of a group that aspires to become a soul band in the 1960s Stax/Atlantic tradition. That said, I don’t think it’s 100% clear that the film is set any earlier than the 1980s. No matter, though: it’s a fun movie, especially if you’re fond of that F-bomb. (Heh.)

From there we move forward to 2007, and a film called Once, written and directed by John Carney. It’s the story of a couple of musicians who find each other. And they discover that they’re yearning for something more than what they have in their lives. Whether or not that’s each other is something that’s explored during the film. You’ll find yourself rooting for them as a couple. Never mind that there are some perfectly good reasons not to do that.

While both films have the commonality of being set in Dublin, there’s another thing about them that many fans have suggested. We discuss it briefly in the second half of the show, and while it’s plausible, there’s really nothing anywhere to back it up. But it’s a truly fun coincidence, assuming it is one.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 

In our next episode, we look at two musical films that are period pieces. Specifically, they take place shortly before a seismic shift in the music scene. First, from 2007 is the criminally-underrated Honeydripper,  written and directed by John Sayles, and from there we move on to 2014’s Inside Llewyn Davis, written and directed by the Coen Brothers.

Reel 41: In the Record Store

With today’s episode drop, we’re moving into a new mini-block of themed episodes, all of which involve music in one way or another. And in this episode we start where most people did when it came to music back in the day: in the record shop. This despite the fact that by the time either of these films came out, vinyl was considered a more or less quaint format for music.

We begin with 1995’s Empire Records, directed by Allan Moyle and starring a lot of people who weren’t honest-to-god stars yet, so you’ll have a lot of “Ermahgerd, they’re such babies here!” and you’d be correct. This is one of those films that takes place over roughly a 24-hour period (probably just a little longer), and a bunch of lives manage to change in a big way during that day.

From there we move to High Fidelity (2000), directed by Stephen Frears and starring John Cusack, Iben Hjejle, Jack Black and a couple of surprises here and there. It’s a spot-on look at the near-middle-aged man’s psyche just before he realizes that he can’t keep on doing stuff the way he’s been doing it so far.

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

Our next episode is a fun one, as we look at a couple of biographical movies that are presented in a rather unconventional way. We’ll start with 2007’s I’m Not There, directed by Todd Haynes, and then move on to Love and Mercy from 2014, directed by Bill Pohlad. Interestingly, they have something in common not only with each other, but with the recent Elvis biopic, which hadn’t yet been released at the time we recorded that episode. So watch this space for that detail.

Reel 40: You Can Like Both, Part 5

War movies make for some pretty good drama, even when there’s a clear “right” side and a “wrong” side. Nazis are bad (they’re still bad, right? Recent politics gives me a headache); non-Nazis are good. That sort of thing.

In fact, we’d argue that the drama ramps up a little bit more when there’s a clear good side and a bad side, and there are conflicts regarding how that “good” outcome needs to be achieved. With Vietnam-era films, all the good/bad is nebulous and the bad guys, regardless of what side they’re on, are all part of the same corrupt system. But when we’re all out to take on the Nazis, and there comes some sort of argument regarding how that’s to be done, now you’re getting into some interesting territory.

This episode is the last in our “You Can Like Both” series, and it takes a look at the first major offensive of each theater of the Second World War. In Part 1 we’re examining Saving Private Ryan (1998), directed by Steven Spielberg. This film takes place around the Allies’ invasion of the French Normandy Coast, with a couple of modern-day scenes bookending the film.

Meanwhile, in the Pacific Theater we have Terence Malick’s The Thin Red Line, also from 1998. This one focuses on the start of the Allies’ offensive at Guadalcanal, our first big push on that side of the world.

Both of these films deal with some of the murky issues behind what’s right and what’s wrong when it comes to fighting enemies in a “righteous” war.

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

From here we’re going to look at a bunch of musically-inclined films. Some of them will be true musicals while others will surround themselves with the industry in one form or another. Our next episode will be the latter: first up, from 1995 is Empire Records, directed by Allan Moyle and starring a bunch of young people who will be much bigger names before very long. In Part 2 we’ll deal with some more established actors in Stephen Frears’ High Fidelity, from 2000.

Before that, later this week will be a mini-episode we prepared as a follow-up for this one.

Reel 39: You Can Like Both, Part 4

Even if they haven’t seen it, most people know a little something about The Big Chill, the film released in 1983 that was directed and co-written by Lawrence Kasdan: a bunch of thirty-something types get together and stuff happens. And of course that’s true, but it’s also true that it goes a little deeper than that.

But what most people don’t know is that The Big Chill had a predecessor with a similar theme going on: 1980’s Return of the Secaucus 7, written and directed by John Sayles. This one deals with a slightly younger crowd, perhaps just on the cusp of turning 30, as they gather for a weekend event.

Now, if you’re a film buff you probably know that Secaucus 7 is a little more dramatic and The Big Chill is a little more comedic. But both groups have some old baggage that they need to work through. And for the most part we feel some resolution at the endings, even if they’re not necessarily the ones we thought the characters were going to have.

And, of course, there are plenty of people who vastly prefer one film over the other (as in, it’s not even close). But the fact is, You Can Like Both. The other fact is, we do like both. And at least this time around we can understand why there’s a comparison to be made (still looking at you, Reel 37).

Our recent decision to release an episode in two parts proved to be rather popular, since we’ve been getting into Epic Length shows lately. So what you’ll see in the future is more of the same: both halves will be released back-to-back, so that you can listen to each segment at your leisure. Plus it should make the downloading go a little bit more quickly.

Now, over the next couple of episodes we’ll still be talking as though there’s going to be a break and then immediate resumption of the show, unless Claude can get clever about patching in some new audio (as he was–nearly–for this one). Then once we’ve used up that backlog of episodes (three more, I think), we’ll be speaking more conventionally about the whole Part 1 and Part 2 of it all.

So if you listen through your podcatcher, you should still get stuff in order. And if you listen here, you’ll see that there are two links to click on (rather than one) in order to get the entire episode.

Reel 38: You Can Like Both, Part 3

When two films are this similar in subject matter, it’s curious that they were both released by the same company during the same year (Columbia Pictures, 1964). But therein lies a story, as Sean will tell you during this episode.

Both Dr. Strangelove and Fail-Safe deal with an American airplane that’s “gone rogue” for different reasons. Both planes are on their way to deliver a nuclear bomb to the Soviet Union. However, one is going because the commander who sent it is insane, while the other one is going because of a technical malfunction. However, the end result is going to be the same, even if the approach that each film takes is vastly different.

Dr Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (if you’re a completist about titles) is a black comedy directed by Stanley Kubrick and starring Peter Sellers (thrice), George C. Scott and Sterling Hayden, with a strong supporting cast of character actors. Meanwhile, Fail-Safe was directed by Sidney Lumet and stars Henry Fonda, Walter Matthau and several actors who are at the start of long careers.  It’s a tense drama—so tense, in fact, that it has no musical score. And it’s got one of the most compelling endings you’ll ever see.

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

Part 4 of this five-part series continues with The Return of the Secaucus 7, written and directed by John Sayles, and The Big Chill, directed and co-written by Lawrence Kasdan. See you soon!