SHOWCASE BLOWUP
Lollapalooza
8/10
by Andrew Blake
The presumed-dead alternative rock festival of yesteryear (which has only toured once since 1997) returned to Chicago’s Grant Park for the second summer in a row as a three-day mega-concert. Thanks to astonishing sales and attendance (over 166,000 tickets bought this year—many more than expected), Lollapalooza promoters have decided to keep the festival as a Chicago-only event for a few more years. While it may be quite a hike for those in Western New York, the quality of the show, as seen not only in the selection of bands, but the beauty of the location itself (Grant Park is adjacent to Lake Michigan and adorned with more fountains and botany than you could shake a stick at), makes the festival worth the trek.
Jack White’s Raconteurs attracted a huge crowd on Friday night, but the first evening of the festival was capped off with a stellar show by Ween, playing songs off all eight of their studio albums, a good sum of which dealt with cocks. The weekend proved to be full of forgettable ‘90s bands that were surprisingly able to rock out like nobody’s business (Smoking Popes, eels, Nada Surf), as well as young up-and-comers that did just the same (Anathallo, Be Your Own Pet). Horrible sound plagued Gnarls Barkley from being anywhere near as listenable as their debut album St. Elsewhere. While technical problems plagued tourmates Peeping Tom as well, singer/best-dude-ever Mike Patton managed to entertain a lively crowd on Sunday afternoon with the aide of a seven-piece band that included beat-box extraordinaire Rahzel.
Mates of State, the cutest band ever, did two sets in Chicago that weekend, including day one of Lollapalooza, and were one of three bands that subjected me to a rendition of Gnarls Barkley’s hit, “Crazy.” Also noteworthy was the soothing whistling of Andrew Bird and the always-entertaining Queens of the Stone Age.
At Kidzapalooza, the stage designated for child-friendly performers, Lollapalooza founder Perry Farrell did a handful of Porno For Pyros tunes with his former band-mate Peter DiStefano. Perry was spotted dozens of times throughout the weekend being flamboyantly jolly while introducing acts, including The Red Hot Chili Peppers, who closed the festival down Sunday night, but don’t do nearly enough smack to put out good albums anymore.
During its initial run, Lollapalooza introduced the world to everyone from Green Day and Nine Inch Nails to Rage Against the Machine and Cypress Hill. Only time will tell what lesser-known acts of this year’s festival will make a name for themselves in the years to come.
A NICE REPRIEVE
Ani DiFranco - Reprieve
9/10
by Jason Bocko
When discussing Ani DiFranco’s newest studio release, one of nearly 20 the Buffalo native now has to her name, one word comes to mind: complete. Ani’s newest release, the follow-up to 2005’s Knuckle Down, is one of her most beautifully complete albums to date. Reprieve starts with a slow bass and piano introduction and ends with a gentle instrumental that never fully materializes as a song. The in-between is a seamless exploration of politics, life, and love.
The first song on the album, “Hypnotized,” is a slow, inviting ballad that draws the listener in gently. Ani and bassist Todd Sickafose play as if no one is listening. From there, the album picks up strength. On the fifth and seventh tracks, “Decree” and “Millennium Theater,” Ani begins to muse about her trademark politics. “A Spade,” another strongly political song, assures the listener of the power of an individual in American democracy and the need for people of similar thought to join together. These songs have a different feeling from almost all of her other political songs, playing as rally songs for the left, in contrast to her earlier and more contemplative work.
Perhaps the most moving moment on the album comes with the one spoken-word piece and title track where her maturity is unmistakable. Over a gently plucked guitar, with an equally soothing voice, Ani ponders the implications of the two nuclear warheads dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and what feminism means in the new century. It ends with her observation, “In the face of the great farce that is the nuclear age / feminism ain’t about equality, it’s about reprieve.”
After leading us through a greatly varied emotional landscape, she closes with the song, “Shroud,” a semi-political and semi-personal song that sounds like something one would expect to hear in gospel music as opposed to an Ani DiFranco album. Her age becomes apparent with the wisdom she offers to the listener as Reprieve draws to a close. She leaves the listener on a note of hope, saying, “Whoever said that life is suffering / I think they had their finger on the pulse of joy. / The power of transcendence is the greatest one we can employ.” After this, the album slowly falls apart into the nothingness from which it seemed to materialize.
Reprieve, unlike most of Ani’s work, shouldn’t be seen as a collection of individual songs, but as a compilation of a year and a half of growth. The only album I can even come close to comparing it to is Joni Mitchell’s 1976 Hejira. Most times after I listen to Hejira I find myself saying, “They don’t make them like this anymore.” Well, apparently they do, and Ani did it.
SNAKES! ON A TRAIN!
Snakes on a Train
2/10
by Ryan “Moss” Yaeger
While the fear of aerial serpentine attack has cancelled hundreds of air travel plans, a new menace has attempted to discourage railway travel as well. Fortunately for financially-strapped Amtrak, Snakes on a Train shouldn’t cause any similar drops in profits.
This straight-to-DVD B movie rip-off of Snakes on a Plane by the Mallachi brothers follows a young woman and her shaman beau as they sneak across the U.S.-Mexico border. However, this young woman is suffering from the effects of a Mayan curse that has been placed upon her, causing her to spontaneously vomit up various-sized snakes, which are ritually collected and stored in canning jars by the shaman. They stow away aboard a train headed to Los Angeles in hopes of being able to have the curse lifted and reunify the snakes with her body.
As one would expect from the title, the snakes manage to get loose and wreak havoc on the train’s unsuspecting passengers. Due to its art student level budget, the snake attacks are by and large rather unimpressive, focusing largely on smaller garden variety slitherers with more elaborate and larger snakes being rendered in poorly done CGI.
The population of passengers continues to dwindle as the snakes roam throughout more and more of the train. Despite the shaman boyfriend’s best efforts (read: blowing hits of pot smoke into her face and shorting out the brakes to avoid a scheduled police search for stowaways) the woman’s condition deteriorates as she continues to regurgitate snakes at an alarming rate.
But the absurdity doesn’t stop there. By the last scene of the movie, things have gone from outlandish to hysterribly ridiculous. Without delving into specifics, there’s some nonsense about an enormous vortex in the sky, a “Big, Big Snake” (to quote the title offered on the scene selection screen), and a gaggle of survivors looking just as confused as I felt.
The DVD also contains a single lame outtake and a brief behind the scenes segment, revealing all the “secrets” of how they put together this video “masterpiece,” but even these bonuses don’t earn Snakes on a Train enough brownie points to be passable.
All in all, this movie was certainly not worth the money spent renting it. Do yourselves a favor, do Samuel L. Jackson a favor, and just go see Snakes on a Plane again. At least that movie had a firm basis in reality, actual snakes (sorta), and a decent plot (that’s pushing it).
THE ENDLESS SUMMER OF DISAPPOINTMENT
3/10
by Daniele Hauptman
With the cost of movie tickets rising by the hour and production budgets blowing up like a water balloon, I hoped to walk out of theaters this summer feeling at least mildly fulfilled. Unfortunately, the only satisfaction I found in the movies this summer was in the back row.
Superman: It promised to be the blockbuster of the summer. The premise: Superman is dead to the world. Lois Lane’s article, “Why The World Doesn’t Need Superman,” even won a Pulitzer. But what kind of movie would lack its title character? Of course, Superman returns, for about three tedious hours of film. The plot is obvious: Superman has to save the world from the maniacal business schemes of Lex Luthor, played excellently by Kevin Spacey. Superman saves the day, and somehow the entire population of Metropolis is still too blind to realize Clark Kent’s true identity. Parker Posey sparkles as Kitty, the ditzy Pomeranian-toting trophy girlfriend with a heart of gold. Posey’s performance complements Spacey’s; their acting is the only thing super about this movie.
Clerks 2: High-larious. Jay (Jason Mewes) is back from rehab and better than ever. Jay and Silent Bob’s antics are classic, from writing “EAT PUSSY” in huge letters on the window of Mooby’s (their new stomping ground), to rapping while selling pot to smart-mouthed sceneagers. This sequel deals with such pressing issues as whether Star Wars or Lord of the Rings was the better sci-fi trilogy and if it’s ever alright to go ass-to-mouth. If you love Kevin Smith movies (besides Jersey Girl) you’ll want to see this one. Porchmonkey 4 lyfe!
Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest: Eleven dollars bought me the knowledge that there will be another Pirates movie.
Mission Impossible III: Cheesy action movie, anyone? It’s unfortunate that Tom Cruise can be taken about as seriously as the existence of alien spirits. The same can be said for his character, Impossible Missions Force agent Ethan Hunt. At one point the super spy is supposedly dead. But is he really? Immediately upon regaining consciousness, Ethan sits bolt upright, grabs his gun, and points it around frantically. Yeah, right. Sure, there were crazy graphics and cool gadgets, but something (read: acting ability) was missing. This review will self-destruct in ten seconds.
