Resquiat in pacem: Ray Charles (1930 - 2004)

Ray Charles died six years ago today, at age 73. I was introduced to him at an early age by my father. His favorite record of Charles' was Modern Sounds In Country and Western Music, which was originally released in 1962 - the year my father graduated from high school. (For those playing at home, 1962 is also the year in which the characters of American Graffiti, written and directed by George Lucas, graduated from high school, as well.).

My father emailed me on the day of Charles' death in 2004. He wrote as follows:

Ray started out trying to imitate Nat King Cole, but, fortunately for us, he abandoned that effort. He went on to introduce us to the great David "Fathead" Newman, who accompanied Ray on an early instrumental recording; he offered us such great lyrics as "she brings my coffee in my favorite cup" and "If Dr.Foster has got her, then I know I'm through--because he's got medicine and money, too"; and he had two of the best country and western albums ever, including the songs "Making Believe" and "Bye Bye Love". However, careers have their low moments as his recording of "Eleanor Rigby" shows. Ray had many songs which other artists simply could not match. Only Jerry Lee Lewis was able to also have a hit with Ray's famous "What'd I Say".

If you haven't ever heard Ray's update version of "Eleanor Rigby" or his "You Don't Know Me," rush down to your local record store and purchase a disc immediately. May he rest in peace.

Looking Back: The Flaming Lips

"Flaming Lips, formed as an alt.punk band 20 years ago and with only one major single to their name - the gimmick hit She Don't Use Jelly in 94 which Beavis and Butthead broke for them - are currently the coolest band on the planet. They are a fun-loving neo-psychedelic rock band with a mainline to existential beauty wrapped in delicate pop, and an ear to experimentation. - Graham Reid of the New Zealand Herald, writing in this piece, published January 10, 2004.

Reid offered these thoughts on the band six years ago. Was he right then, and if so, is he still? The answers to both questions is probably no. The Flaming Lips are a fun and wonderful band, but it cannot be said that they have changed music in the way that so many other bands have done. Lead singer Wayne Coyne is not the best vocalist, and these days, the band garners more press for its onstage antics than its music (which, for many, may even be beside the point). The band's latest album, Embryonic (the cover of which is pictured above), earned some accolades, but in the grand scheme of things, came and went like so many other albums before it. So why, then, in 2004, was Mr. Reid so fierce a partisan of the band? Sure, we liked "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Pt. 1" as much as the next nostalgic music blog, but not so much to call them the "coolest band on the planet."

Helter Skelter (2004)

The book, Helter Skelter, written by Charles Manson prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi and Curt Gentry, delivers on its opening promise to scare the hell out of the reader. In so doing, the 1974 book details the criminal prosecution on Manson and his followers from the initial investigation by the police all the way through the appellate process, all the while recounting one of the most chilling, gruesome, and bizarre criminal episodes in the twentieth century. The story of how Manson hypnotized and transfixed a number of all-American twenty-somethings and programmed them to kill for him is both frightening and riveting. It's a good read for the true crime buff and readers seeking to learn a bit more about criminal procedure. It's a shame that neither television adaptation of the book has been worth its salt.

The film was first adapted into a television movie in 1976 (more about which anon). The more recent adaptation, which aired on CBS in May of 2004, featured Jeremy Davies as Manson. You might recall Davies as the shell shocked translator from 1998's Saving Private Ryan. (In fact there is occasionally a slight trace of his Manson performance in his far more recent role as mad scientist Daniel Faraday on TV's "Lost."). As Manson, Davies' performance seemed a bit over-the-top, and that might be because Manson himself is over-the-top, but Davies came off far more silly than cold, calculating, and manipulative. With the exception of Bruno Kirby as Bugliosi and Clea DuVall as the reluctant Manson-girl-turned-state's-witness Linda Kasabian, the remaining cast was mostly comprised of unknowns. (The late Kirby, of course, you know from City Slickers and When Harry Met Sally, while you might have encountered DuVall in HBO's Carnivale or the terrible 2003 John Cusack "suspense" thriller, Identity.). As a film, the 2004 adaptation is mostly boilerplate, influenced more by those modern, awful cop procedural programs than anything truly innovative. (I remember hearing something a few years back about Oliver Stone possibly directing a remake of Helter Skelter, but alas, it was not to be.).

The problem with bringing Helter Skelter to the large or small screen is that there are many, many facts to convey in order to give the narrative its proper scope and context. You have to introduce a myriad characters (cops, murderers, victims, witnesses), but also provide a meaningful glance into how it was that Manson was able to control his followers. In two or three hours, this is a very difficult task. (That is one reason why Stone would have been a stellar choice to helm such a project. Regardless of what one feels about the conspiratorial nonsense in his JFK and the historical inaccuracies in Nixon, those two films indicate that Stone, as a director, can showcase a lot of information and minor historical episodes without any accompanying tedium. Using different cameras, quick cuts, and stylized shots, Stone can establish historical context and keep the pace). The 2004 version of "Helter Skelter," however, was not up to the job, and its pacing was, frankly, a bit boring, the last thing a film about the crime of the century should be.

It would have been a bit more interesting if the director had cast actors recognizable as sweet and clean-cut American teenagers as the Manson Family instead of unknown talent. If the viewer saw someone like Katie Holmes (recognizable for both her marital mistakes and "Dawson's Creek") as Leslie Van Houten, the point might be driven home better that these were normal American teenagers until Manson took hold of them and programmed them to follow him. Natalie Portman as the now late Susan Atkins would have been far more intriguing, but of course, she doesn't do television. (Unwatchable films are apparently still more prestigious.).

This is not to say that original 1976 version of "Helter Skelter" (with Steve Railsback as Manson) was much better. If memory serves, the original version did not even have a version of the song "Helter Skelter" on its soundtrack, while the 2004 version did at least open its credits with a an alt-rock version of the old Beatles song. Perhaps the producers didn't want to use the Motley Crue or U2 versions? Railsback's Manson was equally cartoonish, and as a 1976 television movie, it was aimed at television viewers far less sophisticated than those of today. Paging Oliver Stone?

The Final Episode of "Sex and the City" (2004)

Six years ago today, HBO aired the series finale of "Sex and the City," and boy, was it lame. For a final episode, it really was a disappointment. Series protagonist Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) ends up with Mr. Big, who parrots his "Abso-f*cking-lutely" catch phrase from the first episode? Big's real first name revealed via Caller ID on Carrie's cell phone? Charlotte is rewarded with exactly what she has always wanted: a baby? Miranda and Samantha learn important life lessons? Miranda finally gains the approval of the perennially disapproving Magda? I'm surprised they didn't promote this as a "very special episode" of SATC due to everyone's important realizations. To boot, almost every lingering narrative issue was tidily disposed of and everyone ended up happy once and for all. That's not life; that's television. Kinda sappy, especially for HBO, don't you think? Bah. Humbug. Who thought they'd end the show with such tidy and shameless sentiment? I mean, a little bit is to be expected, but this much? Alas.

Some good points: Carrie left the relationship with the Russian of her own violation after realizing that it was quite wrong for her. This was important. She realized that Miranda's warnings were wholly accurate: she could not give up her career, her friends, her city, her nation in order to live the life of an artist's girlfriend in Paris. Had the producers allowed her to end up with the Russian, then it would have been a betrayal of the show's central message of independence. Thus, it was good that she didn't suddenly choose between Big and Aleksandr Petrovsky; she left the Russian before she even knew Big was in the hemisphere.

However, the show ends with Carrie simply taking Big's word for it that he has finally matured after six years? Were this not the final episode, we'd learn in a few weeks that he was back to his old tricks (something that is confirmed in the film several years later). Has Carrie learned nothing from his past antics? The last few seasons of the show has been dedicated to the notion that people can change: Miranda goes from cynical career woman to working mother and wife, Samantha goes from nymphomaniac to smitten with Smith. But is Carrie to simply rely on Big's assurances(accompanied, of course, by his journey to Paris) that he has changed? Are we to believe that because Big's name has been revealed, that so too will he reveal his feelings and emotions to Carrie in a way he never did during the six years of the show?

I certainly agree with the folks at Gothamist who, at the time, noted that the good thing about the show ending is that "we can welcome the end of thousands of articles spectulating [sic] what kind of impact the show had on our lives . . . ." In the week-long build-up to the final episode, we all grew a bit impatient with the self-importance of the show's spokespeople. To boot, the hour-long "farewell" to the series which aired immediately prior to the finale was autohagiography. Back then, we were literally inundated with features and interviews pontificating on the importance of SATC. It was, according to the hype, a program which forever altered the way we as a culture thing about the single life. It was, according to the hype, a program which brought a new frankness to the discussion of sex, yet it was also a show with heart. It was, according to the hype, a valentine not just to single life in New York but also New York itself. But, in the end, I don't think the show was the significant culture-altering television program that its producers and cast always shouted from the rooftops that it was. Sometimes, a clever TV show is just that: a clever TV show. It's not as if Michael Patrick King was writing, say, Atlas Shrugged or something, right?

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

It's 2009. If you still not yet seen 2004's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, drop everything and journey to your local video store to rent this film. (In fact, if you've not yet seen this film, there is probably something wrong with you, dear readers.). Melancholy, wistful, and slightly experimental, the film traces the destruction of the relationship of Joel Barish (Jim Carrey) and Clementine Kruczynski (the ever lovely Kate Winslet, who could never be erased). After their love slowly slides into complacency and boredom, Clementine has her memories of the relationship erased. (If only such technology were commercially available in the real world.). Upon learning this, Barish does the same, and the film chronicles his subconscious and regretful struggle with this process. It's really quite an unusual spin on a familiar theme, and of course, that's thanks to Charlie Kaufman (the film's scribe and writer of Being John Malkovich and the wonderful Adaptation.). The film has a stellar sense of melancholy and self-doubt, two traits which are essential to any relationship film. The imagery is vibrant and clever. It's sequenced out of time, so we begin in the immediate present, immediately go back to the day before, and then trace the ups-and-downs of Joel and Clem's relationship backwards from its sour end to its hopeful beginning. Post hoc reconstruction is necessary, dear viewers. Runaway Bride this is not. Thank goodness. (Plus, you can't go wrong with Winslet with blue hair, can you?).

To boot, the film is filled with very competent actors, a rare thing for films of the 2000s. Carrey, of all people, is subtle as the lonely and insecure Barish, while Winslet captures the balance of impulsiveness and insecurity as Clementine. Mark Ruffalo, Elijah Wood, and Kirsten Dunst round out the cast as the employees of Dr. Howard Mierzwiak (Tom Wilkinson), pioneer of the memory erasure process. These could easily have been stock characters played by Hollywood no-names, but the results are quite interesting to watch under the circumstances.

FYI: The title of the film comes from Alexander Pope's poem, Eloisa to Abelard, the appropriate stanza of which is:

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;

The poem is quoted in the film by Mary (Kirsten Dunst), a character who does come dangerously close to being mere eye candy until the final act of the film.

When I first saw it, I could say that it was the first film in a while during which (a) I have not been bored (b) I was actually interested in the subject matter and the characters (c) I was not ready for it to end. I am a bit disappointed that the film did not explore the moral and philosophical issues implicated by the erasure of one's memories of life and love, but that's just minor quibbling really. Really, what this film is about is the pain of loss and the wreckage that we become when we lose one to whom we have become attached. Go see it. (Oh, and for the record, I would never erase a relationship with Ms. Winslet from my mind. Not ever.).