Showing posts with label david bowie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label david bowie. Show all posts

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

DVD REVIEW: BRIAN ENO 1971-1977

The cover for Brian Eno 1971-1977: The Man Who Fell to Earth.
Brain One


Brian Eno 1971-1977: The Man Who Fell To Earth is, surprisingly enough, the first documentary film produced about, but not authorized or sanctioned by, Brian Peter George St. John le Baptiste de la Salle Eno, otherwise known as Brian Eno, or simply just Eno. The documentary captures what are arguably the most important years of Eno’s fruitful career in 154 minutes. This would be 60 minutes too long for most music documentaries, but considering Eno’s countless seminal contributions to music as a musician, arranger, producer, innovator and theorist during those eight years, even 154 minutes seems all too brief of an overview. For better or worse, Eno is probably best known today for his production duties for U2 and Coldplay. The purpose of Brian Eno 1971-1977: The Man Who Fell To Earth is to school the uniformed on Eno’s golden years.

Eno studied at art school and considered himself to be a non-musician when he joined Roxy Music as their keyboards and synthesizers player in the early 1970s. As with everything else he touched from here on out, Eno’s unique influence, otherwise known as “treatments” or "Enossification," on Roxy Music’s first two albums -- Roxy Music (1972) and For Your Pleasure (1973) -- is undeniable.

After one too many clashes with Roxy Music frontman Brian Ferry, Eno began a solo career releasing four groundbreaking “vocal” albums (all of which would be “desert island” picks for me): Here Come the Warm Jets (1974), Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy) (1974), Another Green World (1975) and Before and After Science (1977). Eno also began releasing instrumental albums, which eventually became his forte as a solo artist, such as Discreet Music (1975) and Ambient 1/Music for Airports (1978), thus laying the groundwork for ambient music.

Eno simultaneously began involving himself in many collaborative projects such as No Pussyfooting (1973) and Evening Star (1975) with Robert Fripp (King Crimson); The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway (1974) with Genesis; End (1974) with Nico (Velvet Underground); Lady June's Linguistic Leprosy (1974) with Kevin Ayers (Soft Machine) and poet June Campbell Cramer; Diamond Head (1975) and Listen Now (1977) with Phil Manzanera (Roxy Music); Fear (1974), Slow Dazzle (1975) and Helen of Troy (1975) with John Cale (Velvet Underground); Cluster & Eno (1977) with Cluster; and Low (1977) and "Heroes" (1977) with David Bowie. Also by the close of 1977, Eno had produced Ultravox’s Ultravox!, Talking Heads’ More Songs About Buildings and Food and Devo’s debut Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!.

And that is -- literally -- only about half of what Eno did between 1971 and 1977. Brian Eno 1971-1977: The Man Who Fell To Earth touches upon even more Eno-related projects than I just did, dedicating a few minutes to each release and spending a bit more time on the major milestones in Eno’s career. Archive footage of live performances and studio recording sessions is interspersed amongst interviews with music journalists, colleagues, collaborators and friends; and of course there is a healthy dose of Eno’s music (most of which is matched with visual accompaniment).

Eno is debatably one of the most influential individuals to have ever worked in the music industry. As one of the more innovative musicians and producers in the history of rock music, no matter what role Eno plays during the recording of a song, he approaches the studio as a painter approaches a blank canvas. His specialty is adding more dimensions to the music, highlighting aspects of the song structure to make it stand out more, while morphing other aspects in order to blur them into the background. Everything Eno has touched during his 40+ year career has been gold to my ears.  

Now available on DVD, Brian Eno 1971-1977: The Man Who Fell To Earth suitably represents Eno’s genius, though I would argue that his golden years continued through the 1981 release of his collaboration with David Byrne, My Life in the Bush of Ghosts.

Thursday, 31 March 2011

FILM REVIEW: SOURCE CODE

Captain Colter Stevens (Jake Gyllenhaal) in Source Code.
Moon beams

By Don Simpson

Okay soldier. You are in an isolated container of some sort. We are communicating with you via a television monitor. When you get too confused, we will show you some playing cards to jog your memory. Otherwise, just sit back and enjoy the train ride. It is not your train ride, it is a dead teacher’s train ride, but we hijacked the final eight minutes of said teacher’s memory, and we will continue to send you back, soldier, to relive those very same eight minutes over and over again until you solve the puzzle. What is the puzzle? Plain and simple: find the bomber, save the world. And remember, this is purely a simulacrum of the past -- it can in no way effect the present. Time travels in one direction, just like the train you are on. This is not time travel. Reality is already in the past, you cannot effect the present. Whatever you do, please do not try to save the pretty woman -- the one named Christina (Michelle Monaghan) -- seated across from you. She is not your mission; she is already dead.

Captain Colter Stevens (Jake Gyllenhaal) is the soldier in isolation going through an existential crisis -- a predicament that is not all that dissimilar to Sam Bell (Sam Rockwell’s lead character from director Duncan Jones’ astounding cinematic debut, Moon). Like Sam, Colter is all alone with very limited (and restricted) telecommunication functionalities. Colter’s last recollection of reality is when he was a U.S. Army helicopter pilot fighting in Afghanistan. Now, his only connections to the outside world are the flickering television images of a fellow soldier, Colleen Goodwin (Vera Farmiga), and her mad scientist boss, Dr. Rutledge (Jeffrey Wright). Colter does not remember signing up for this mission, whatever the hell it is. (Umm... Beleaguered Castle anyone?) According to Dr. Rutledge, Colter’s mission is part of the Source Code experiment, which is “a powerful weapon in the war on terror.” (When we learn the truth behind the Source Code, that single statement resonates with countless ripples of profundity and terror.)

With fleeting allusions to Terry Gilliam's 12 Monkeys, Harold Ramis' Groundhog Day and a roundabout of Alfred Hitchcock films, Source Code is essentially a long lost episode of Quantum Leap (with a few Twilight Zone moments tossed in for good measure) during which the DVD purposefully skips a few dozen times before reaching the end of the third act 90 minutes later. (The train and the whole eight minute thing seemed to jog a classic R.E.M. lyric from my memory: “Take a break, driver eight, you’ve been on this train to long...”)

It seems far too easy to nitpick Source Code to pieces, especially the scientific logic behind Dr. Rutledge’s theories of his Source Code. The scientific explanations seem incredibly thorough (and overly explained), yet in retrospect they do not make any sense. And I also fear that Jones reveals far too many cards, way too soon. Personally, I would prefer a lot more ambiguity -- or I at least want to have more time to theorize about what is really happening to Colter.

What really irks me about Source Code is that it has one of those endings that is totally schlocky, yet Jones can always fall back on the excuse that the final scenes are probably all in Colter’s mind. But the conclusion confirms for me that Source Code is pure Hollywood fodder -- okay, that is a slight exaggeration because Source Code is certainly more intelligent and better acted than most Hollywood films. But Moon is quantifiable evidence that Jones can do much better than this; there is something very special about Moon and Source Code pales in comparison.