Netflix Instant Watch Picks for November 2011

Old-School Badasses Edition

High Noon

        If you've ever thought to yourself, "man, I wish The Western were just a tad faster, and a bit more streamlined," then High Noon is the movie for you. Don't let its 1952 release date fool you; Nearly all 85 minutes of Director Fred Zinnemann's classic are edge-of-your-seat-intense, colored by a sense of earnestness that is largely absent from modern flicks. Gary Cooper stars as Marshal Will Kane, the town hero who is set to both retire and be wed to the lovely Amy Fowler (Grace Kelly... Lucky...) before some demons from the past come back to haunt him. Frank Miller (Ian MacDonald), a man Kane sent to prison a few years back, will be arriving in town on the noon train, and there's little to no doubt what his intentions are. As the town panics, its up to Will to find enough help to defeat his old foe once and for all. High Noon is brilliantly shot, and performed with a gleeful sense of grandiosity, most especially by holier-than-thou Cooper. It's brief runtime ensures that the heat is always on, and the music, most especially Best Original Song winner High Noon (Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin'), ensure that the menace never seems too far behind.

The Hustler

        One of, if not the greatest sports movie of all time, The Hustler stars none other than Paul Newman as "Fast" Eddie Felson, an up-and-comer in the pool-playing scene with more than a few skeletons in the closet. After losing a fortune by challenging reigning great Minnesota Fats (Jackie Gleason), Felson hits rock bottom, meeting a similarly troubled soul (Piper Laurie as Sarah Packard) while he's down there. Finally, Eddie runs into Bert Gordon (George C. Scott... More on him later), a cut-throat manager who might just take him to the top, but at what cost. The Hustler is every bit the simple morality tale that it sounds like, but it gains extra traction from a sense of true unpredictability, and One of the best performances of One of the greatest acting careers of ever. More than anything else, the movie is a character study, and Newman fills "Fast" Eddie with enough nuance and soul that you never doubt his inner-turmoil. Bonus points for making a game like pool look impossibly cool, likely an impossible task were it not for Eugen Schüfftan's smoky Black and White camera work.

Patton

        I've seen a variety of great performances in my life time, but there are only a handful that pop up instantly when I consider the inevitable, "Best Performance of All Time," question. There's Robert De Niro in Raging Bull, Al Pacino in Dog Day Afternoon, and George C. Scott in Patton. Filling the role of the movie's namesake, Scott stars as One of the most divisive, ruthless, and infamous generals in the history of the American military. Gifted and brilliant, Patton sees more than his fair share of successes, but his fiery temper and unsightly ways of punishing insubordination find him in trouble time and time again. Patton is a quite a chunk, taking up nearly Three hours of screen time with a plot that meanders from One idea or place to another. The scale of the thing, however, is not to be denied, nor are the performances, the always-wonderful Karl Malden chipping in a brilliant supporting turn as General Omar N. Bradley. But this is the George C. Scott show, his strangely charismatic snarl and growl present in nearly every scene. It's a performance that towers over everything else that the movie has to offer, and, quite frankly, would be similarly mammoth in size regardless of what movie contained it.

In Time (Release Date: 10-28-2011)

        In Time doesn't waste any of its namesake in arriving at it's central concept, so I'd might as well not either. As we learn from some hyper earnest/serious voice-over narration from Justin Timberlake, we are now in the future, and the economic structure has seen a few changes. In this world, each and every person stops aging at 25, at which point they have exactly One year to live, a quantity of time that, somehow, is tattooed to everyone's wrist, glowing green and ever counting down. This time is the currency of the world, Four minutes buying a cup of coffee, several months bringing home a car, etc. Our hero, Will Salas (Timberlake), lives in a district named Dayton, wherein workers toil and sweat just in order to have enough time to wake up in the morning and get back to their jobs. Far, far away lies a city where no such sacrifices are made, and fat cats live with the utmost certainty that, as long as they don't act recklessly, they will live as long as they like (Don't worry, this movie is not a political analogy... *wink*). The system is corrupt, and Salas is out to take it down.

        In Time was never going to be a bad movie for a simple reason: It's conceit is extremely interesting, as it holds up a sort of fun house mirror to our current socio-economic landscape. Because of this intrigue, almost all of the movie's 109 minutes prove engaging. This, however, has nearly nothing to do with the execution. Writer/Director/Producer Andrew Niccol gives the movie a somewhat boring visual pallet, and its hard not to wonder why, in this distant future, the time-keeping wrists are literally the only futuristic devises that ever seen on screen. Cops drive around in boxy, souped-versions of older cars, and the decadently rich still spend their time in suites, casinos, and luxurious dinner parties with classic decor. Way to dream big about the coming years, buddy.


        The script is also riddled with mistakes, the most glaring of all being its complete and utter aversion to developing real characters. Olivia Wilde shows up for Two scenes and adds nothing as Salas' mother, Cillian Murphy hams it up in a goofy, occasionally enjoyable but impossibly shallow, villainous supporting role, and Amanda Seyfried, bless her heart, was obviously signed on for her looks, and her looks alone. I don't really have any idea if she can act, but In Time doesn't even give her a chance to try. Timberlake, who has had some charming performances in the last couple of years, isn't really up to the task of going full-on badass (Watching him turn to the camera, straight-faced, and deliver lines like, "No one should be immortal if any one person has to die," is somehow both hilarious and painful). His finer moments are his quieter ones, making eyes at Seyfried, or having a heart-to-heart with his best friend Borel (Johnny Galecki). In Time is a mixed bag, a great concept adorned with middling execution. It will hold your attention, but you probably won't be recommending it to any of your friends. Time is just too valuable.

Grade: C-

Leftovers: October 2011

Leftover Music:

M83: Hurry Up, We're Dreaming
        All kinds of great music came out over the last month, perhaps more than any similar span this year, and why not start my list with the biggest of them all. Anthony Gonzalez's musical project's newest release is hands-down the most ambitious offering I have heard this year, 22 songs expanded over Two discs and over 73 minutes... and these aren't small songs that we're talking about here. The album opens with what is likely the most grandiose song ever to be simply titled Intro, Gonzales and Zola Jesus' Nika Roza Danilova trading belted lyrics before transitioning into Hurry Up's first single, the impossibly catchy Midnight City. But there are riches to be found through-out the thing, from the cathartic release of Wait, to the smile-inducing story of Raconte-Moi Une Histoire, to other great pseudo-shoegaze, stadium rockers like New Map and Steve McQueen. Accusations of cheesiness are not unfounded; Gonzales clearly set out to make the biggest-sounding LP that he could, and some level of over-earnestness is always attached to such efforts. Some artists would perhaps have avoided such potholes, but just about none of them could have made something so expansive, beautiful, and emotionally involving. The trade-off is a no-brainer, and Hurry Up, We're Dreaming is too epic to resist.

Real Estate: Days
        From the most towering record of the year to One of its most subtly enjoyable, Real Estate never once aims for true grandeur, but their ability to craft a catchy pop song more than makes up for it. Like The Strokes without even the smallest drop of vinegar, Real Estate traffics in small, uncomplicated ditties built out of simple drum patterns and perfect guitar hooks. Just about every song on Days is a wild success, opener Easy coming off just as its name would imply; With a pronounced sense of effortlessness. Green Aisles and Kinder Blumen are even more chilled out, drifting along through the air as if hardly there at all. These songs serve as perfect counterparts to Days' more-caffinated entries, such as Out of Tune, Municipality, and lead-single/album highlight It's Real. It's a shame that this disc came out now, because the LP was clearly designed to fit the lazy days of Summer, laying around and having a beer with friends in the sunshine. Days is a small gem, filled with simple songs that go straight into your brain and never leave. It's ok though, because you won't want them to.

Surfer Blood: Tarot Classics EP
        A delicious little power-pop treat nestled in right the middle of the Fall, Surfer Blood's Four-song EP represents their first official release since 2010's totally-and-completely-awesome debut Astrocoast. Little here has changed, and thank god for that: Surfer Blood writes some of the best, 'college rock,' songs on the planet, bouncy, fun, and filled to the brim with ear-catching melodies. Opener I'm Not Ready sees lead singer John Paul Pitts' voice bobbing up and down on a simmering bass line, exploding into guitars and percussion crashes near the tune's end. The simple, repeated chorus chant of Miranda might be One of the most impossible-to-get-out-of-your-head moments in the band's discography so far, and, trust me, that's saying something. Voyager Reprise even slips in a bit of harmonica, perfectly utilized in the song's laid-back sway. Clocking in at just under 15 minutes, Tarot Classics is an undeniably modest entry into the musical landscape, but it's more than worth seeking out.

Youth Lagoon: The Year of Hibernation
         You've heard Youth Lagoon before, more or less. The solo-project of 22-year-old Boise, Idaho, musician Trevor Powers will prove familiar to anyone with a background in, 'Chill-Wave,' or indie rock produced at in-home studios. As those comparisons would suggest, The Year of Hibernation is a disc full of nostalgia, echoing, washed-out vocals, and escalating song structures. Lead-off Posters opens small and swirling, prompting One to wonder if the volume is too low before blooming into life at the Two-minute mark. What Powers lacks in individuality, he makes up for in some of the most heartening, gorgeous songs of the whole year. Posters is a perfect indicator of what is to come, nearly each and every tune starting off small before evolving into something gargantuan in size, the final moments of Cannons and Montana absolutely bringing down the house. If you've simply had your fill of this kind of music, I don't think Youth Lagoon will win you over, but if you're interested in One of the most melodiously gifted talents working in bedroom-pop today, The Year of Hibernation ought not be missed.

Take Shelter (Limited Release Date: 9-30-2011)

        No matter how bad your life is going, I'm willing to bet that you have it better than Curtis (Michael Shannon). Sure, on the surface, the middle-aged mid-westerner has it pretty good: A stable job working alongside a good friend (Shea Whigham), a beautiful and supportive wife (Jessica Chastain), and an adorable young daughter (Tova Stewart) to boot. But underneath all of this is where things are going awry. He's started having apocalyptic nightmares, so intense that he wakes up screaming or worse. They begin to effect the way that Curtis sees the world around him, prompting him to build an expansive tornado shelter in his family's backyard for fear that his visions are prophetic, and that the storm of all storms is a-comin'.

        If Take Shelter sounds like One of those movies that tries to turn the screws on its audience, then congratulations, you've guessed right! As written and directed by Jeff Nichols, TS is a movie that makes its name on dread and decent into madness. The visions that Curtis has are almost always distinct from the operations of the real world, but that doesn't make them any less terrifying. Even Curtis knows that it might be all in his head, as he visits his paranoid-schitzophrenic mother in her care facility in the middle of the movie, seeking answers about the illness, but too ashamed to ask. In short, Take Shelter is a check-up on the modern American zeitgeist, One wherein men who you will never meet take all of your money, and climate changes that you didn't cause threaten to harm you daily. It's a startling depiction of our current state of unrest, making vivid observations while never getting so caught up in its message as to forget to tell a story.

        In a lot of ways, Take Shelter is a pretty damn impressive movie, but there are a few things about it that just won't stop bugging me. The central conceit (is he crazy, or a prophet?) works in contradiction of itself: If he is just going insane, and was somewhat predisposed to insanity, then how seriously can we take him as a barometer of the current American sentiment? If he's right the whole time, isn't that kind of trivializing mental illness to a degree, posing as if really interested in the topic, only to use it as a red herring? I also think the movie could have stood a bit more visual intrigue, as cinematographer Adam Stone shoots almost everything with a still, unfiltered camera. Had the film been colored in the tones of, say, Adam Kimmel's subtly surreal south-west in the film Capote, we might have had a movie as appealing to the eyes as it is to the mind. And while the men behind the camera do, to my mind, come up just a hair short, no such thing could be said of the performers here.

        Everyone on board is top-notch, Chastain given the role of the ever-suffering wife that could have just been filler were in not for her capturing presence. Then there's Shannon, toning down his normative amounts of crazy in order to deliver One of the best performances of the year. Suffering and confusion are immovably etched on to the man's face, his triumphant feats of acting causing the audience to both sympathize and follow Curtis down the rabbit hole at the same time. And best of all, when the script calls for him to go nuts... well, let's just say he's alright at that. Take Shelter is a fascinating movie, a film of lofty, lofty goals that it may or may not attain, depending on your view. I think it gets close, and if the contemplative and thought-provoking aspects of the movie don't quite put it over the top, then Shannon's performance sure as hell will.

Grade: B+

Paranormal Activity 3 (Release Date: 10-21-2011)

        It's already become hard to remember that the Paranormal Activity series used to be a small thing. Like the first Saw film, the original Paranormal Activity was a festival movie first and foremost, and one that director Oren Peli surely couldn't have dreamed would blow up the way that it has. He shot his film in about a week's time, in his own home, and on a bankroll of $11,000. A few years later, the third film in the series is enjoying the biggest Fall opening weekend of all time (September and October considered). A simple, simple thing has become massive.

        That simple, simple thing, as you may well know, is the use of cheap cameras and amateur actors, set against a backdrop of perfectly relatable suburban life, to foster a feeling of immediacy and realism. Just like Paranormal Activity 2, the Third chapter is a prequel, this time taking the action back to 1988, as we witness the early years of Katie and Kristi, a pair of sisters who's fate is known by all who have seen the previous installments. The Two of them have an invisible friend who goes by the moniker Tobey, their gaurdians strongly disagreeing on how to handle the situation. Their mother, Julie (Lauren Bittner), avoids it completely, refusing to listen to any story that so much as involves his name. Her serious boyfriend Dennis (Christopher Nicholas Smith), however, starts to see signs as well, setting up cameras around the house (as is, apparently, everyone's first impulse when being haunted), and capturing One devious finding after another.

        As previously stated, the first film was a very simple movie, outstanding in its ability to pin the audience to One specific location (The couple's bedroom), and create dread and implications from just the sight its dimly-lit existence. The second expanded on this idea, changing up the formula not-at-all, but adding more rooms to revisit over and over again, the meaning of each space created in the mind of the terror-stricken viewer. Stated plainly, part Three does not have the powerful still visuals of the first Two films, and it attempts to compensate for this by having around twice as many scares as either of its ancestors. This works at first, but where the other films still had socking new places to go at their conclusions, this One simply doesn't withhold enough to make a towering climax possible. Each new scene has a new scare, and by about half-way through the movie, it's impossible not to start guessing if, 'the door is going to close,' or, 'that thing is going to fall,' and if you're having that active of a thought process, you probably aren't gripping your armrests with suspense. I'm a sucker for the Paranormal Activity series; The fear that they create resonates with me at a gut level. Sadly, even I am starting to feel some fatigue.

Grade: C+

Coldplay: Mylo Xyloto (Release Date: 10-25-2011)

        More so than just about any other rock band working today, Coldplay is a known product. Each release by Chris Martin and company comes with hyper-specific expectations, including a variety of orchestral instrumentation, a sad-sack set of lyrics or Two (or Eight), and a bare minimum of Two singles that will never leave your brain (or the radio airwaves) ever... like, ever. It is perhaps this reluctance to throw curveballs that has gotten the band as far as they are, their millions of fans hungrily anticipating each new disc, and the comfortable familiarity that it will surely bring. Of course, these expectations are also a curse on the band, causing sonic change-ups to sound too jarring, and balladry, wether simple or grand-standing, to seem like a par for the course.

        The band's approach to combating this image was apparent the moment that the disc's first single, Every Tear is a Waterfall, dropped: They aren't changing squat. If the song title alone wasn't Coldplay enough for you, consider the track's musical escalation, Martin's signature wailing (especially near the end), and the guitars, toned specifically to upset as few ears as possible. It's a solid song, but remember who we're talking about here. This band has never had a problem hitting solid, each of their Five efforts proving a good listen from start to finish, but the wow-factor is often a no-show. As a matter of fact, Mylo Xyloto often functions best when it avoids grandeur altogether, such as on proper-opener Hurts Like Heaven, a feather-light pop number with plinking electronics and exuberant chorus chants. More than anything, the song is fast and lively, Two words that don't often fit in with the band's aesthetic, and that's just what helps them here.

       But when you hear Hurts Like Heaven start off the disc on a bouncy, fun note, just promise me you won't get your hopes up. The back half of the tune dissolves into slower, sadder notes, draped in Martin's ever-present falsetto, dampening the mood before launching into second single Paradise. Here is what needs to be said about Paradise: The opening line reads, "When she was just a girl/She expected the world/But it flew away from her reach/So she ran away in her sleep/And dreamed of paradise." If reading that didn't cause you to either roll your eyes or throw up, then perhaps Mylo Xyloto is just the disc for you, but I for One have heard lyrics of a similar simplicity at a 6th-grade talent show, not to mention their too-emo-for-life meaning. The bitching and moaning is bad enough; The fact that the band somehow doesn't seem to realize how trite and predictable it is makes it even worse. Funny thing is, I kind of liked Paradise at first (the radio has already over-played it, so my current opinion isn't really the song's fault), and the same could be said about almost every track here.

        I honestly can't think of any band who was bigger at any point in the 2000's than A Rush of Blood to the Head-era Coldplay, and that was only their second disc. It's the kind of success that tends to glue you to a spot, or, in this case, a sound, and Coldplay is living out that problem as we speak. Not too many popular, renowned musical acts are all out of surprises by album number 5, but that's just where the band has found themselves, playing the same 6 chords on different instruments, throwing in the voices of random pop stars (Rhianna makes what is either an inspired or confusing cameo on Princess of China, I'll let you decide), trying to recapture the magic.


        Mylo Xyloto is good at first listen, but its blatant identity as, 'Another Coldplay Album,' becomes more and more grating with each spin. I started this week cranking the thing up in my headphones; By now, hearing Every Tear is a Waterfall has become an actively frustrating experience. The good tunes (Heaven, Charlie Brown, the second half of Up With the Birds) are, in time, dragged down by the off-putting lesser tracks (Us Against the World, Up in Flames, Don't Let it Break Your Heart), adding up to a pretty unappealing whole. It has now become nearly impossible to hear the band's music without their legacy in mind, and were I to have no previous experience with the Four-Piece, I can imagine enjoying the disc quite a bit more. But it's not their debut, and worse yet, there are no Spark's or The Scientist's hiding on this LP, the lack of any single great song(s) depriving the album of a true center. It's alright, better than most of the things it will be playing in between on the radio, but is, 'alright,' really what we want from, 'America's Biggest Rock Band?'

Grade For the First Four Listens: B-
Grade For Listen Number Five: C+
Grade For Listen Number Six: C
Grade For Listen Number Seven: C-
(You get the drill)

Justice: Audio, Video, Disco (Release Date: 10-25-2011)

        Like most everything fame-related in the world of music, writing a cross-over hit can be a blessing and a curse. Just ask Peter Bjorn and John, or MGMT, or MIA. It puts your name up in lights, sure, but it also serves to define you as an artist, given that almost everyone who has heard that popular song of yours has only heard that popular song of yours. Whatever you do from here on out will be viewed in light of that single Four-minute clip of audio, which, of course, can make an artist feel like their hands are tied creatively. It's a dilemma that the likes of Florence and the Machine, Foster the People, and The Black Keys will soon face, and One that French electronica duo Justice will finally face this Tuesday, when a slew of music fans will grab their new disc, Audio, Video, Disco, searching eagerly for the next DANCE.

        If there was One thing that we learned from the Spring-time release of the album's first single Civilization, it was that Justice had no intention of ceasing to be Justice. Loud and aggressive while somehow maintaining brightness, the song carves out large spaces for slow-motion, auto-tune-dreched verses, but their lethargy give the pounding, multi-colored chorus its real power. And though the song's chorus is hugely familiar to anyone who heard the band's 2007 debut, it's the vocals, drums and guitar of the verses that foretell the more interesting, more damning desire of Audio, Video, Disco; It kind of wants to be a rock album, and Justice just isn't really a rock band.

        This new-found focus on penning lyrics tied to traditional song structures is not without its successes: On'n'On leads with a sparser, more appealing version of Civilization before popping into a jubilant bounce. But Newlands, on the other hand, simply sounds too far out of reach, asking listeners to lend an ear to mediocre rock when they asked for great dance music. But even when the band looks back to their roots, the results are mixed. You can almost hear Horesepower, Canon, and Helix all blow a fuse under the weight of their desire to be badass dance-rock songs, all accomplishing their goal to varied degrees, but the intentionality of the thing drains some of the life out of the songs. The only track on Audio, Video, Disco that truly works from front to back is Ohio, another number that relies on mechanized vocals, this time layering them to warped and ear-catching effect, all before unleashing into One of the smoothest dance tunes of the whole year. The song is nearly impossible to sit still through, its night-life vibe and lack of desire to blow out speakers defining it against an album that often slips into the background. I have to imagine that Audio, Video, Disco plays a whole lot better when listened to as intended: At a club, or party, or anywhere the volume could be cranked up to absurd volumes. As music to listen to on one's own, it's a mixed bag.

Grade: B-