Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Girl In A Band by Kim Gordon

Just tore through Kim Gordon’s bio, Girl In A Band.  It’s a good read. It’s a quick read.

As a bio, it hits all the stages in her life, but it does so with a light brush.  It’s not a drama-fueled bio à la Mary Karr. It’s not as philosophical, nor does it delve as deeply and shed a light onto a specific time period like Patti Smith’s Just Kids.

At times it feels like a hit and run overview, but within that, it’s all good. The book is very much about Gordon’s development as an artist and her quest to live the artistic life.  I use the word “artist” consciously, because though Gordon is best known as a musician, it’s her interest in other art forms that serves as her wellspring.  To be fair, Sonic Youth always came across as “arty”.  I always liked that about them.  Gordon doesn’t shy away from this conceit.  Her inspiration comes from folks like Mike Kelley, Dan Graham, and Gerhard Richter.

The book is framed by the dissolution of her marriage, and that story gives the book its arc.  Gordon has moved on from Sonic Youth, is starting new bands, has re-focused her energies on her art career, and is moving towards a different stage in her life.  That change is lurking everywhere in Girl In A Band.

For those looking for the comprehensive Sonic Youth tell-all/tome, this is not it.  Gordon takes the stance that the band’s history has been well documented elsewhere.  She moves through the band’s career by devoting chapters to specific songs and/or albums that resonated with her.  It’s not the broad view that she takes, but the more personal glint into the world of Sonic Youth.  I thoroughly enjoyed it.  It does leave you wanting more stories and insights, but what’s on the page is strong.

Gordon is pretty open talking about the challenges and triumphs of rock and roll parenting, as well.  Though she doesn’t regale the reader with story after story, her take is insightful and heartfelt.

Finally, art is the core for her.  It informs her work as a musician and artist throughout her career.  Personally, I love when artists take their inspiration from mediums that are not their own.   This is Gordon’s m.o., so I loved that aspect of the book.  If I have any complaint is that the photos in the book aren’t that strong, and the book is devoid of any telling photos of her artwork.  As much of a fan as I am, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know her work as a fine artist.  She talks enough about it in the book, that some photos would have been nice.

Small quibbles for sure. 

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Some Quick Thoughts About TV

Peaky Blinders—Let’s talk Netflix Original deep cuts.  When I was first laid up with my bad back in December, I cruised through this British Series.  Set in the 20s, it focuses on the mean streets of industrial Birmingham.  It’s a melting pot of trouble.  Commies, cops, IRA, and The Peaky Blinders, the local gang, are all doing battle in this hardscrabble universe filled with young men deeply scarred by their experiences in WWI. It’s a far remove from Downton Abbey.  There are flashes of excitement, especially when the show gets political, as it does at the outset.  Will the factory workers fight for their rights?  Will they embrace a socialist movement? Will they embrace revolutionary moment? Or will they fall into the hands of the local gangs, offering a quick buck.  Unfortunately, as the show develops, politics become an afterthought, and the show’s plot turns toward simple gang warfare.  Not bad, I just feel that the politics of England between-the-wars carries with it a seed of originality that simple gang warfare fails to bring.  I did stick out for both seasons.

Veep—OK, I’m four seasons late to the party here, but this is brilliant funny stuff.  Never watched it, but then I shot an Evening with Veep for San Francisco Sketchfest this year and I was intrigued.  I had no idea that Armando Iannucci, one of the creative minds behind I’m Alan Partridge and In The Loop was behind this.  The writing is great, as is the acting.  Full marks here.

House of Cards—Watching House of Cards and Veep at the same time is a bit surreal, since the plot lines are nearly identical, featuring Vice Presidents climbing the ladder to the Presidency.  A shocking number of plot points start converging.  The two shows represent an interesting exercise in taking similar broad plot points and creating two very different experiences. Enough of that, let’s talk House of Cards. I loved the first two seasons.  Now that I’m more than halfway through season 3, I can’t say I’m feeling it so much.  The first two seasons focus on Frank Underwood’s rise to power.  His end game becomes clear and is the driving force of the series.  Now that he is fully in power in season 3, the show seems to lose focus.  As President he seems rudderless.  Other than maintaining power and flaunting his power, he seems adrift with no political agenda.  It seems odd to me that someone who is a career politician, who was so focused on achieving the Presidency, would get there and then have no clear policies that he wants to enact.  As the season progresses, he pushes policy through, but it all seems so reactive as opposed to proactive.  It strikes me as a bit of lazy writing.  Given the strength of the writing and acting in the first two seasons, I’ll play out the string, but I’m starting to think the five hour investment I have in front of me could be better spent. 

Girls—I’ve been mixed on Girls.  I like Lena Dunham. That said, the show, at times has irritated.  I dug season 1.  Season 2 made my skin crawl a bit.  I skipped season 3.  I’m digging Season 4.  I find myself looking forward to each episode.  Isn’t that the draw of TV?  There you have it.  Have I mentioned how every time I look at Lena Dunham, I think of 90s underground filmmaker, Sarah Jacobson?  I think Dunham, whether she realizes it or not, took the mantle Jacobson was blazing before her untimely death, and has run with it.  I think Sarah would be proud to see someone like Dunham strutting her stuff so boldly on TV. That thought makes me happy.

Togetherness—I’m a big Mark Duplass fan.  I really enjoyed the first season of Togethrness, which features a married couple moving in different directions after becoming parents.  It seems real. It seems heartfelt. It seems wounded.  The characters aren’t always sympathetic, but they are not in a good place.  The side story of the directionless sister and the best friend, who is an out of work actor, feels real as well.  What happens when you approach middle age and all your hopes and dreams seem forever out of reach?  Togetherness goes there and it’s good stuff.

Hockey—I watch a lot of hockey.  The Sharks, my team, are a bit of sideshow this year. They’re offering up as much drama as some of the shows on this list.  As the regular season comes to an end, and it becomes increasingly likely they won’t make the playoffs, I keep watching.  I suppose it’s the masochist in me.  Sports fans understand. 

Thursday, March 19, 2015

The One I Love

The One I Love slipped in and out of the local theaters with little fanfare, and that’s a shame.  With a little more time, it could have caught some mild indie fire. Similar to Mark Duplass’ new and highly recommended tv show Togetherness, The One I Love features Duplass and co-star Elizabeth Moss as a young, struggling married couple.  The film opens with the two in therapy where it’s quickly evident that they are growing estranged from each other.  Their therapist, played by Ted Danson, insists they go on a weekend retreat. He’s got just the spot for them.  Duplass and Moss head off for some rest, relaxation, and reconciliation. They smoke some pot, they have some sex, and things are going well until things get weird.  

Mild spoiler alert to follow.  The idyllic start takes a sudden turn when the couple realizes that they are not alone.  Worse than being terrorized by strangers, the people they find inhabiting the cottage are idealized versions of themselves.  Whenever Duplass retreats to the guest house on the property he meets a kinder, more tolerant, more sexy version of his wife.  When Moss enters the guest house, she meets a more easy going, less cynical, less bitter version of her husband. She’s reunited with the man she fell in love with years earlier. Confronted by their doppelgangers, the couple runs, but then are sucked back to explore the possibilities.  Duplass wants nothing to do with this house of mirrors, but Moss, who is clearly more wounded by their disintegrating marriage, feels that regardless of the bizarre nature of this occurrence, it represents possibilities worth exploring.

The One I Love sets a great tone.  It’s got a bit of austere sci-fi creep, with hints of The Twilight Zone, Night Gallery, and late night 70s B Movies like Magic.  It also owes a debt to John Frankenheimer’s Seconds.  But there’s dark comedy floating about as well. Only one of them can experience a doppelganger at a time.  They have to hash out the ground rules for this trust exercise. It’s funny stuff.  Obviously insecurities arise. Sometimes they are played for comedy, other times for melancholy.

The One I Love is streaming on Netflix and worth 90 minutes of your time.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Red Army

I love hockey. I love documentary.  I was pretty excited to check out Red Army, a doc about the standout Soviet hockey teams of the 70s and 80s.  For a fairly small release, Red Army was receiving plenty of hype from a variety of mainstream sources, which further wetted my appetite.  

Growing up playing hockey in the 70s, the specter of the Red Army team was ever present.  They were the enemy.  Though they were the evil empire, there was no denying that they were awesome.  They kicked Canada’s butt.  And though the Americans beat them at Lake Placid, any one in the know realized that had that game been played ten more times, the Russians would have won them all.

Red Army is a pretty entertaining doc focusing on more than just the formation of the team.  It’s a glint into the Soviet political system and the industrial sports complex of the Cold War era.  If you came of age in that era, there was no question that sports were a battleground that often stood in for political battles.  Red Army acknowledges the Soviet necessity for fielding standout sporting teams to do battle on the international circuit. 

Political machinations aside, at its core, Red Army showcases the trials and travails of the Red Army team members. Their training regimen was nuts. Players trained for 11 months out of the year, rarely spending time with their families.  As a result, the Soviets played like a well-oiled machine.  Each player was in complete sync with his line mates.  The highlights of the team on the ice in Red Army are astounding. The Red Army’s starting five were absolute wizards.  Their playmaking skills were a true thing of beauty.  I assure you that you won’t see hockey of that caliber on a Tuesday night tilt between the Panthers and Jets.  But their machine like dismantling of their opponents also turned them into communist automotons in the eyes of Western observers.  Red Army does a great job of humanizing the players.  

The documentary revolves around star defensemen Slava Fetisov, who would later go on to win a bunch of Stanley Cups for the mighty Red Wings.  Fetisov was the team leader and the first player who bristled at the authoritarian yoke of the team and head coach Viktor Tikhonov.  Fetisov’s desire to emigrate and jump ship to the NHL leads to punitive treatment from the team and the system that he lead to international glory. 

While we now take for granted the international flavor of the NHL, it’s easy to forget the resistance put up to Soviets playing in the NHL.  From the “their coming for our jobs stance” to the general distrust of commies in our midst, the transition of these Soviet stanouts to the NHL was incredibly difficult for the players and their families.  Not only were they isolated by language, culture, and style of play, but many NHLers didn’t want them here.  Fetisov, along with teammates Alexei Kasatonov, Igor Larionov, and Sergei Makarov were pioneers in bringing the Russian game to the U.S, but their transition was far from idyllic, often being viewed as foreign pariahs.

I definitely had a couple quibbles with the film.  The majority of the big picture cultural/political perspective comes from Western analysts. I found it odd that a film so intent on showing a Soviet perspective, left the bird’s eye view of the political perspective in the hands of Western critics.  I know the Western perspective of the Cold War.  I wanted an Eastern Bloc perspective.  Granted the players do shine some light on the matter and that’s when the film shines.  I loved the Red Army teammates talking about their first trip to Canada and being overwhelmed by all the shopping options and their excitement at buying lots of blue jeans.  More of this, please.

The other oddity in the film is how much of the film is dependent on Fetisov.  All the reviews I read prior to seeing the film talked about how Fetisov’s story was at the core of the film, but I had no idea how truly focused the film was on Fetisov.  I’m spitballing, but if I had to guess, Fetisov represents 60-70% of the interview time in the film.  I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a doc so heavily reliant on one interview subject.  Had the film been called The Fetisov Story, I guess I’d accept, but for a film covering a broader landscape it comes off a bit odd.  The film contains interviews with Fetisov’s defense partner Alexei Kasatonov, goalie great Vladislav Tretriak, and forward Vladimir Krutov.  But their interviews were worthy of fourth line grinder ice time. These guys were some of the greatest to ever play the game, but they weren’t allotted top line minutes in the interview column.  Nowhere to be found were star forwards Igor Larionov and Sergei Makarov.  I’m sure there was a reason no interviews were secured with those two amazing forwards, but given their prominence on the team and their successful NHL careers, their absence was felt.

But quibbles aside, Red Army is absolutely worth checking out.  

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Gulag: A History & My Promised Land

For the past month I’ve been laid up with a herniated disc.  Two weeks of being bed-ridden were followed by a little spine surgery, which has been followed by a couple more weeks of spending a lot of time lying flat on my back.  I haven’t tied my shoes, washed dishes, or worn big-boy pants in a month.  I have, however, done a lot of reading and a modicum of viewing.  In the next couple of days, I’ll be rolling out what I’ve learned.

Gulag: A History by Anne Applebaum
Looking down the barrel of a surgeon’s knife, I decided to tackle a 500 page tome on the Soviet prison camp system.  I figured that a) not being able to move would help/force me to plow through this bitter and brutal history, and b) from a personal perspective, I figured that though I was laid up and facing a surgery with potentially scary side effects, that I would be reminded that things could always be worse.  Reading Gulag: A History, there is no question that things were worse.  Gulag is an exhaustive look at the history, the inner machinations of, and the politics surrounding the gulag.   The gulag was the soviet prison system.  Driven by Stalin’s political paranoia, the system filled up with millions of Soviets.  Though there were some hardened criminals, many of the prisoners were arrested on dubious pretenses.  Indiscriminate sweeps of Ukranians, Poles, Balts and Jews landed many innocents in the gulag.  The system was also filled by political prisoners who were accused of being enemies of the state. The gulag was not only driven by Stalin’s paranoia, but there was the false hope that the gulag could be an economic engine for the foundering Soviet Union.  Prison labor was slave labor that the Soviet Union hoped could mine precious materials from the land, build vast public works projects, like canals, fell timber, and help drive the economy.

Applebaum, who penned the excellent Iron Curtain: The Crushing of Eastern Europe 1944-1956, does a great job discussing the politics that brought on the birth of this prison system, looks at the leaders and administrators who ran the system, and how the system transforms as Soviet Politics transform.  Though the gulag was at its peak between the 1920s and 1950s, Applebaum traces the dissolution of the system through Glasnost and looks at how the prison system transforms through the 80s.  Gulag also traces the life of the prisoner from arrest, transport to the camps, and acclimation to the camps.  It focuses on the types of work, the types of rewards and punishments.  It looks at the life of the guards, and it looks at the possibilities of escape.  Gulag also looks at and differentiates the types of prisoners from political prisoners to hardened criminals to peasants whose arrests were brought on because they bristled at the notion of forced collectivization. Regardless of their point of origin, life in the camps was brutal.  Food was scarce, tools to do the work were rudimentary to non-existent, clothing was threadbare, living conditions were frightening, there was violence amongst the prisoners and between prisoner and guard, and if you were placed in a northern camp above the arctic circle, life was mighty cold. In short, it was a brutal life.

One fascinating element is the number of memoirists who emerged from the gulag.  Each chapter is lead off by a beautiful poem or piece of writing encapsulating the chapter to come.  I found that to be a nice touch.  Gulag is worth the read.  But be forewarned, it is long.  At times it feels like a very detailed master’s thesis. Applebaum is an excellent writer who is at her best when she takes the long view, analyzing and looking at the big picture.  She kills it in the intro and the epilogue.  At times though, the body of the book feels like a long list of atrocities.  It’s a list that people need to hear, but when your done, you will feel release.

My Promised Land by Ari Shavit
While mired deep in the Gulag my dad sent me Ari Shavit’s My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel.  I picked it up, read the first chapter and was hooked, and thus began my pas de deux, simultaneously reading two historical books.  I rarely read two books at once, but it was quite enjoyable.  The gulag by day, Israel by night.

My Promised Land is an enthralling look at the history of Israel and the Zionist endeavor.  Given the current state of politics, Israel and the Occupation are hot potato topics.  There is much anger and vitriol, and courtesy of social media like Facebook, a lot of ranting and raving. Everyone has an opinion, but I always wonder how much people really know about the situation.  I certainly know a bit of the history of the Middle East, but I’ll be the first to admit that I have large blind spots, and a perspective informed by being from a family whose grandparents came from Poland and the Ukraine to help settle Palestine in the 20s.  I think everyone, regardless of political stance, could probably stand to know more about the situation, myself included.

I loved My Promised Land, and I’d highly recommend it to anyone looking to gain some perspective on current day politics and the history that got us to this moment in time.  It is by no means an exhaustive look at the history, but Shavit looks at critical moments and events in Israeli history, explores them deeply and tries to relate them to today’s conflicts.  He does so as someone who believes in the State of Israel, but someone who sees big flaws in the State and its politics.

Shavit is a Haaretz reporter, and a peacenik who squarely comes out against occupation.  That said he is proudly Zionist and believes in the necessity of the state of Israel.  The book starts by looking at the Zionist movement of the early 20th century and how its fueled by the hostility towards European Jews and the coming holocaust that will wipeout 6 million Jews. Against this backdrop the necessity for a Jewish homeland seems paramount.  Shavit spend a lot of time looking at the early Zionists, their fierce determination, their collective spirit, their relationship to the land and to the Arabs in the land.  At the crux of My Promised Land is Shavit’s realization that if one believes in the necessity of the Jewish State, displacement of part of the Arab population is wrapped up in that belief.  Though we spend so much time focused on post-1967 occupation, at the core of the challenge of modern Israel is 1948. Zionism was all about finding a safe haven for Jews in a hostile world, but the ultimate and unfortunate byproduct of that desire was the displacement of an Arab population.  The book continually circles back to this premise and Shavit spends much time trying to understand this dichotomy.

The book is a fascinating history of the development of Israel from its 20s roots to its modern complexities.  My Promised Land looks at the various waves of Jewish immigration and the political movements that have shaped Israeli politics and culture.  Shavit continually looks at all those movements though the lens of where we are at now politically.  He looks at key moments of the early Zionists, he looks at key battles in 1948, he looks at the budding prosperity of the 50s, the nuclear program of the 60s, and the critical wars of 1967 and 1973.  Interestingly he points to the failures of the Yom Kippur war as the turning point in Israeli politics, at how that defeat and the ensuing political malaise gave birth to the settler movement.  He interviews key players in the early settler movement and explores the Occupation. He explores the peace movement and looks at his time as a soldier in Gaza in 1991.  He also spends time trying to understand the ultra-orthodox movement and how shifting demographics and economics are continually affecting modern Israel.

This was a great and eye opening read that delves deep into Israeli history and the Israeli psyche.  No matter what side of the political debate you’re on, I’d highly recommend My Promised Land.