8 Steps

Hello, hello.


I just finished, and I mean just finished, a documentary that was recommended to me by my father in law. It was a gripping, intense series of eight episodes that told a tale of death, deception and defense. If you find yourself with some time this weekend, I would highly recommend watching it - its the kind of thing you find yourself engrossed in at the 20 minute mark, and unable to turn off after a single episode. It's called The Staircase. There are so many twists and turns in the course of this murder defense trial that it seems unreal such a thing could be reality and not fiction, yet it all unfolds in a comprehensible, dramatically believable fashion. It may seem a bit jarring and off putting, but I have never seen a documentary so engaging as this.


Here's the basic gist - on December 9th, 2001, celebrated author Michael Peterson called the police in his hometown of Durham, North Carolina. He found his wife Kathleen lying in a pool of blood at the bottom of a staircase in their massive country home. He called 911, explaining the tragedy as it unfolded. Police arrived and documented the scene. Within moments, though, Peterson was under surveillance. There was suspicion of what the circumstances suggested and how Peterson was involved. Not to go too far into details (and spoilers that will shock you) Peterson had to lawyer up and begin his defense.

This documentary is the best of the genre. It's succinct yet not too short. At eight episodes of 45+ minutes, you get a complete and accurate understanding of a full trial without drowning under the weight of superfluous details. At the same time, it's drawn out enough that you get a sense of the team involved on both sides of the trial. It's not the disgusting, vapid and over-sensationalized style of reality TV - it's a real trial. Things have consequence. Someone has died. It's absolutely heavy. On top of it, another man's life hangs in the balance. You want heavy drama? How about something that actually happened? Is that serious enough for you, in this world of Kardashians and Shores of Jersey? 


In the highest of all recommendations, my better half could barely restrain herself from watching the whole series in one shot. She normally can't be bothered with anything too far out of the realm of reality - basically it's cooking shows (instructional or entertainment) or straight comedy (Always Sunny or Tosh.0), i.e. very little room for fictional or recreational viewing. This doc, though, had her from the first chapter. We did very well in watching responsibly, but still mowed through the whole thing in less than four nights. It's simply that gripping - once you start, you can't look away.

I am in no way trying to make light of the incident on hand, despite my recommendation, here. What I am suggesting, though, is that you watch it as soon as possible. The Staircase is an amazing documentary with tons of drama and twists, all of it unshakably real. You can find it here, broken into its individual episodes. Watch one and see if you can hold back for a whole weekend.

Batboy

Happy Weekend, everyone!

We're still in the midst of Book Worm Week. In the interest of switching genres abruptly, let's go completely outside of the box and look at something fun and easy for a Friday night thing, shall we? Today's post is on Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli's stunning Batman: Year One. 

I know what you're thinking. Comics, for real? I know, I'm another in the long line of emotionally stunted men who still read comics as adults. Some are more like actual novels, like the sprawling and long form Y: The Last Man. Others are completely whacked out, like Hellboy or anything involving the X-Men. Batman, I honestly believe, falls somewhere between the two. Sounds insane to say, but hear me out - Bats has no superpowers to speak of. He's just a very wealthy, well trained man with an over-accentuated sense of justice. Nothing supernatural or completely far out, depending on the story you're reading. My preferred tales of the Batman are all closer to reality than some of the more fantastical story lines and continuities. So this excellent tale of how the Dark Knight got his start grounds itself in that same sense of reality. Let's take a closer look. 

I've got to assume that if you're reading this, you have at least a passing familiarity with Batman's origin. As an child, Bruce Wayne witnesses the death of his parents at the hands of a desperate mugger, the tragedy creating a void in his life that can never be filled. As a young man he travels abroad for 12 years, studying martial arts and along with a wide range of studies, preparing himself for cleansing corruption from Gotham City. The opening of the book sees him returning to the city and setting about the process of figuring out what to do. The plot for the book essentially follows the arc of Bruce Wayne's first year in his foray in donning a cape and cowl to fight the corruption threatening to destroy Gotham City. Simultaneously Detective Jim Gordon deals with transferring into a corrupt police force and has to face the task of combating crimes from the inside while holding on to a struggling marriage. The two men and their divergent methods of dealing with the problems they face make for an excellent read, the contrast in their dramas making for an engaging back-and-forth storytelling style. What many would dismiss as flights of fancy for teenagers and kids is actually a well written and beautifully drawn book that tells a believable tale of vigilantism taken to the extreme. 

The wonderful power of Year One comes not only from the images but the script. Too often you find hammy and over-the-top writing can pull you out of what could otherwise be a great story. Frank Miller's script, though, is fantastic - the dialogue and action are, given the circumstances, fairly grounded and true to life. Sure, it's hard to suspend you belief to accept a man dressing as a bat to fight crime, but if you read the scene in that sees Bruce finally deciding to use the likeness of a bat in his quest it really can be powerful. Likewise, the scene in which The Batman finally makes his presence explicitly known to the Mob families of Gotham is a tense, dramatic scene that plays incredibly well on the page.

The artwork here is simply gorgeous. They style of Mazzucchelli isn't one of over-exaggerated muscles and impossibly proportioned women with too little too wear. Instead it's all grim and grit, the smoke of the cigarettes wafting off the page, the rain making you feel chilled. The tone of the visuals is a bit of a throwback, drawing influence from old-school yarns that originated the format, re-contextualized in the style of the time (late 80s). It's a tale told in the shadows and gloom, yet it never gets lost in the dark - the dynamics make for a remarkable piece, all pops of color and highlights that draw attention to key elements. For men who work in the shadows, it's incredibly bright work.


No matter your stance on the format, you owe it to yourself to read one of the finest tales the medium can offer. If you've never read a comic, or anything about Batman, it's the perfect place to start. If you're passingly familiar with the world, it's an example of how high a standard the form can set. If you're a die hard, you already know just why you should re-read this classic. Batman: Year One is gospel. Do it for justice. Do it for the art.

Movie Week Memoriam

Ladies and gentlemen, here we have it!


The sad yet poignant end to Movie Week. 


I've just arrived home from the premier screening of the locally made, insanely funny Wasted On The Young and I have to say - it is funnier than I could have ever hoped. I mean there were times I felt I should stifle myself, lest I ruin someone else's good time. I howled out loud, along with the rest of the sold out theater. Hell, the 9 pm show was sold out, too. I would love nothing more than to give a thorough recapping of the lovable indie film fresh from Paperback Productions, but do to my intimate involvement with the movie, objectivity is almost non-existent. That being said, I absolutely adored the scenes I wasn't in, relishing the performances of my friends and neighbors. It was also an amazing curiosity to see a motion picture shot entirely on VHS - the aesthetic was both unique and enjoyable. If you're interested, head over to the site and buy it for a single dollar. That's less than a sandwich! I won't say anymore at this point, to avoid accusations of shilling. What I will do, instead, is compile every post thus far on the subject of movies. See, I mostly just write about them, not act in them. So here goes:


Brick - a phenomenal, understated, modern day noir flick set in a CA high-school, starring the amazing Joseph Levitt.
Monsters - a quiet, evocative film on a shoestring budget about societal implications of aliens in Mexico. Awesome.
Cloverfield - the flipside to Monsters, wherein a Cthulian-esque monstrosity attacks NY. Very post-9/11.
Fan Edits - a look at the fascinating world of fan edits and how they change our perceptions.
Spirited Away - one of my favorite movies, ever. A beautiful, heartfelt tale of growing up. And ghosts!
The Matrix Trilogy - the groundbreaking series that looks even more impressive in hi-definition. A must see.
Moon - a moving but lonely and ultimately heartbreakingly human science fiction movie. Duncan Jones is a genius.
Mystery Team - the Derrick Comedy debut feature, an absurd take on Encyclopedia Brown, starring Donald Glover.
The Ride - the shorth film that accompanied 30 Seconds To Mars' single 'Kings & Queens. Heavy and gorgeous.
Inception - a look at how music shapes the experience of this phenomenal thriller. Heady, intelligent stuff.
MST3K - the absolute best of the worst. Manos, Hobgoblins, This Planet Earth. You name it. Yikes.
Akira - an examination of how scene and setting impacted my perspective of the Japanese breakout hit.
Terminator - some of the smartest science fiction movies ever, even if the continuity and quality tapers off.
Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs - surprisingly smart and funny, a great under rated and recent movie.
Oldboy - harrowing stuff, but some of the most original film-making I'd seen in years. Watch it with the kids! (Don't)
Wasted On The Young - Minneapolis-made movie makes moves. I'm so proud of everyone involved.
Pleasantville - see Tobey Maguire and Reese Witherspoon before they were stars. It's a charming 90s movie.
Silent Hill - an uneven, but enjoyable horror flick I love more for the soundtrack than anything.
Chasing Amy - Kevin Smith's best work, an honest and moving look at relationships, with plenty of dick jokes, to boot.


There we are, kids. Quite a few, so feel free to peruse and see what you find. I plan on doing more on movies later, but I ought to get back to what I do best. In the future though, I'd like to branch out more, do more themes. Maybe books? Games? Lord knows the web is full of guys like myself writing about video games. Something more obscure....perhaps comedy? Who knows. Hey, I'm open to suggestions - drop a line and let me know what you think! 

One Man Orchestra

Good afternoon, one and all.

Apparently my the weather deities have decided that Minnesota hasn't had nearly enough rain. It should stop sometime by next week, though, which is nice. On the one halfway decent day we had last weekend I tried to sneak in a quick run, the first one I would have taken outside in almost six months. Alas, my knee decided that would not be the case, and about halfway through the ol' Illiotibial Band Syndrome reared its ugly head. Limped home. Lame. Puns! But not all is lost. Days like this, the weather undoubtedly has an affect on mood - if yours happens to line up with the weather in the right fashion, it can be okay, despite the unrelenting dreariness of it all. I know I've written about my love of trip-hop and subdued, down-tempo music before, but it has yet to scare away readers in droves, so what the h, right? Let's roll up our sleeves and dig into a little Peace Orchestra, shall we?

I first heard this musical outfit many years ago on the soundtrack to the sublimely weird short-film compilation about the oft-derided Matrix series, The Animatrix. Among the surreal and disturbing collection of animated shorts is a piece about a high school student who questions the nature of reality, bringing about men in black suits to ask unpleasant questions. An appropriately titled cut from Peace Orchestra's only proper release is used as a part of the score to the short. Titled 'Who Am I', the song adds to the uncertain, threatening nature of the short with its bubbling, beeping tones and flanging guitar samples. The beauty of the animation is also highlighted by the ephemeral nature of the track. Further, there is a looping sample of the song playing over the scene selection of the DVD. When I was kicking around on a Saturday afternoon last summer, too much time on my hands, I realized that I was leaving the disc on the menu just to hear the loop over and over again.

So I looked it up.

Turns out the song was just one track on a mind-blowingly awesome album by Peace Orchestra, a trip-hop outfit that really is only a single person. This person would be Peter Kruder, or half of the Austrian electronic group Kruder & Dorfmeister, best known for their downtempo, dub compositions and remixes. After a bit of hemming and hawing, debating with myself about how many trip-hop albums one man can have need for, I bought it and have never looked back. Seriously - I love this album. I love it so much I actually have to force myself to listen to other things just so I won't burn out on Peace Orchestra. I don't want to learn every single intricacy about it just yet; I want some mysteries to remain.

Mysteries seem to be a theme on the album - it's a threatening, sexy mix of ominous tunes. It's all bassoons and electronic sounds, organic rhythms and looped bass lines. There's a definite air of foggy nights, men in fedoras and rain falling on dimly lit streets. It's a knock out. The kind of thing that when I wake up and see that it's raining again in Minneapolis for what seems like the 13th straight day, I shrug and say "All right, Peace Orchestra it is" and put in my earbuds, slowly zoning out with a book on the bus. If there is any chance that an article about trip-hop on this site gets through I would highly recommend this album. Kruder is a fantastically talented artist who paints masterpieces with his audio equipment. I'm glad I stumble across his work the roundabout way I did, just so I could experience the rich appreciation I derive from listening to it. While I am aware of Reset, the remix/redo version of this album, I'm totally making myself wait until I have completely burned out on this first. I love it that much and I hope you do too. Check out their site and see what I'm talking about. Austrians making trip-hop - who could've guessed?

Chasing Sheep

Here I sit, 38,000 feet above sea level typing diligently away about a book I finished for the second time. I'm on my way to carefree AZ to replenish my vitals and vitamin d levels. The book? Another fantastic piece of post modernism by haruki murkami, A Wild Sheep Chase.


The story functions in the most basic sense as a noir detective story. To summarize in a blatantly frank manner, a young man is tasked with finding a location and specific sheep within a photograph he used in one of his agency's ads. Sounds bizarre, I know, but I swear that in the greater context of the story it is quite engaging, to the point of my befuddlement even on a second read through. It's a story of this young, unnamed protagonist subjecting himself to the weirdness of the world at large while seeking an old, familiar (if forgotten) connection.


As I wrote in my article about Norwegian Wood I have concerns when reading murakami of whether or not I fully comprehend the context of what is being expressed. I get the literal action but worry about not understanding the idiosyncratic peculiarities of a foreign culture. Having had a chance to chew through the material once before, however, allows me the luxury of not worrying about plot as much as investigating the subtext. Having done so, I can safely say that A Wild Sheep Chase is indeed just as fantastic and weird as I suspected it was on my first read through. The retread afforded me perspective I lacked the first time around.

It really is a great gum shoe tale, albeit with a nameless Everyman hero. That is not a detractor, though, but a method and vehicle for the reader that works quite well for an incorporating effect. The story involves long periods of contemplative drinking, of which I am quite a fan, as well as carefully navigating peculiar  conversations with strange figures and the occasional metaphysical force. As our hero works his way north and out of Tokyo he comes closer to the core of the mystery and farther down into a strange world of men obsessed with a particular sheep, only to find a very inter-connected world of guided hands and lives. I know this all sounds very disjointed and off kilter but it really does hold together quite well in the end, to the degree that my second time through the denoumount brought a new found appreciation for just how fantastic and well constructed the tale is. All it takes is one good scare and a lonely cabin in a deserted mountain clearing to really grab you by the shoulders and make you sit up and take notice. 


Murakami is a killer writer, but you may already be well aware of that fact. Having read a handful of his books by now, im getting the sneaking suspicion that A Wild Sheep Chase may actually be his secret best work. I have a few more of his works to delve in to, admittedly, but this does stand out as a particular highlight. If you've never read anything by this phenomenal author I would highly recommend starting here - it's a quick and easy read that pays off incredibly well. 

This Is Your Life

Okay, time's a factor today so I'm going to keep this brief.

I'm a sucker for soundtracks. While I could expound on the myriad reasons for this at great length it mostly stems from the "bleed-through" effect they have on my brain when I listen to them in daily life. The intentional discord that results from recontextualizing the familiar into novel situations gives me both a feeling of dynamic shift for the mundane and a sense of surreal comprehension for what is the normal sturm and drang of the in & out of the daily grind. Their was a long stretch after first seeing cult film Donnie Darko that I spent listening to the score whenever I was in the car - it made any errand feel much more interesting and bizarre with those syncopated strings bouncing in the background. Video games are no exception here, either - I've already written at great length of my love for the work of Akira Yamaoka. What I want to use today's short space for is to tell you just how good the soundtrack to Fight Club can be. Created by the Dust Brothers, long time production duo responsible for excellent, eclectic releases by The Beastie Boys and Beck (among others), the score serves as an exemplary example of both their style and skill as producers and musicians. 

While the film certainly merits the terabytes of data already written about it, analyzing themes of consumerism, modern masculinity and identity, I'll spare you my own surface-level examination. It's spectacular, to say the least, owing it's core genius to the source material - the novel by Chuck Pahlaniuk. Modern noir focusing on loss of self through consumerism. Heady stuff and a fantastic crew. Director David Fincher obviously was working full bore on making a great film and understood the impact a decent score could have. Not wanting to risk fracturing the movie with individual artists or risk a dull orchestral-arrangement, Fincher tapped the Dust Brothers in the hopes they would deliver something unique.  His risk paid off. The score, full of predatory drum loops and buzzing machine sounds, adds to the tone of destruction and discord that permeates the film. It's the sound of the narrator breaking down his structured world - the more rigid and ordered tracks are repeated throughout the score, each time breaking further down and becoming more disjointed. It feels like a matter of diminishing returns, in the best way possible. It's actually quite a nice little method of displaying the story structure via soundscape - the more unreliable the narrator becomes, the more the listener is aurally disoriented. Beeps and clicks, various electro sounds all hum along with the tunes, adding to the angry buzz of the film. 

It's really quite a gem, this soundtrack. If you enjoy this sort of thing it's definitely one to check out. I certainly can see how people would be put off by some of the abrasive sounds but in my experience it's not always ease of access that means good music. I love how the score creates a definite mood and can heighten whatever I'm doing, from riding the bus to typing today's column. Check it out, if you're into it. 

Not In Season

Alright, friends and neighbors! I'm back at an actual keyboard with a real chance to sit down and type this out. Travelling was amazing but coming back to the Midwest was hard. I could feel the cold radiating through the bulkhead of the plane before we even touched down. Like a dummy, I hadn't brought a coat so my shock was even more severe. I got back to the apartment and unpacked, shivering the whole way, I shoved a couple books back onto the shelf. Something there leaped out at me. A comic that reopened the genre for me. That comic?


The Long Halloween.


Written and inked by the highly regarded team of Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale. Loeb and Sale are renowned for spinning excellent yarns about the Dark Knight, netting them both Eisner Awards in the process. I may be getting a bit ahead of myself here, but I assume if you're reading this blog you have at least a passing familiarity with Batman and his endeavors. Created by Bob Kane, Batman has been an anomaly in the comic industry for his nature of being a non-super hero, a man whose gadgetry and detective skills are more involved in the story than superhuman feats. Possessing a rich and immersive back story to draw on, The Long Halloween tells an epic tale of corruption and human fallibility in the city of Gotham. 

Having the origin story exquisitely retold in Frank Millar's  Batman: Year One, Loeb and Sale were approached about continuing the world set in motion in Millar's tale of gangsters and corrupt policemen. Year One was a straight-forward, old school retelling of the first year of Batman's first 12 months getting into form, becoming the figure that would stand against evil in Gotham. While the plot resolved in the collected issues there was definitely more story to tell. Mob Bosses left in power and super-criminals on the horizon remained to be taken down by the bat.


Setting this 13-issue arc into motion is the marriage of Johnny Viti, nephew of "The Roman" Carmine Falcon. Asking for for Bruce Wayne's favor on a bank vote, Falcon is rebuked and swears to investigate into the Wayne Foundation and put the screws to Bruce. A burglar on the scene sends the reception into disarray, necessitating Batman's intervention. Meanwhile Harvey Dent, nosy DA that he is, is in the garage taking down license plates on those in attendance for future record. The contrast of the two knights, and the main underlying theme of the book, is apparent here - The Dark Knight, brawling with mobsters in the office upstairs, The White Knight dutifully doing the paperwork in the parking garage and receiving a beating for his work. The disparate methods these two forces of justice approach their work with is a central theme to what unfolds and things quickly spiral out of control. Inspiring a majority of Christopher Nolan's fantastic 2008 take on The Dark Knight, The Long Halloween sets up a pact between Bats, Dent and long suffering Commissioner Gordon in a long-form plan to bring down The Roman and his family.

All sides agree to work within the law, or "bend it" at the most. As I wrote above, however, things quickly go awry and people start turning up dead. First off is Johnny Viti, shot in his bathtub. Next, the Irish gang that attempted to bomb Dent for his noble actions. On New Years, Carmine's son is shot during a party aboard the Roman's yacht. So it goes for a calendar year, an organized, calculated hit on someone involved with the mob on all the major holidays. Suspicions and paranoia run rampant. Accusations are cast. No one feels safe. The first time I read the comic I was genuinely mystified, pouring over the pages trying to suss out the person behind the Holiday Killings. Bats? Dent? Catwoman? Batman works his way through the rogues gallery of usual suspects, apprehending them all and interrogating them for whatever he can get on the matter. Joker, Riddler, Solomon Grundy, The Penguin, Scarecrow - they all make excellent appearances here, in wonderfully fleshed out versions of themselves. It's a thoroughly gripping tale of intrigue and deception, with the ending leaving your head spinning and the reader asking themselves if what they saw was true.

True to form for some of the best Batman stories, it's a full on noir comic. Pistols with serial numbers filed off, heat-waves setting the scene for smokey, booze filled weddings, footprints in the snow from criminals and confrontations in the sewers - it's all here. This hits all the hallmarks for all my favorite scenes for a story. The scenes and dialogue are incredibly dynamic and of the highest quality. The inspiration for The Dark Knight is clear throughout the book - entire scenes have been drawn upon, while motifs are apparent in others. What is essentially a crime story plays out in fantastical fashion, with a pair of twisted and obsessively driven detectives at the center. 


I honestly cannot recommend this comic enough. If you've never read a Batman comic it's a great starting point - all the major players are here with a massive yet digestible story at the heart. It's also one of the high water marks, so there are few places to go but down. If you have read anything about Batman - WHY HAVEN'T YOU READ THIS? You should know better. I'm disappointed in you. You should know better. 


For reals, yo. Read The Long Halloween. It's amazing.

Late Night

Bon Soir!


It is currently 20 minutes to midnight as I type this and I have had a rather long day, so in the interest of appeasing the God of Sleep I'll keep this brief.


To clarify the establishment of tabs at the top o' the blog, Warm Fuzzy Viewings will detail my obsession with very particular settings in visual fiction. In particular, things that are set in:

• Rainstorms
• Blizzards
• Night Time
• Secret Passages

I can't put my finger on why these things fascinate my brain, but whenever I'm watching a show or a movie at night and it utilizes these elements, preferably together, there is some strange part of my brain that is firing at an increased rate. It's not unlike the rush of imagination a child gets when being handed a cardboard box.

Stay tuned for updates. Anything from Simpsons episodes, Batman comics, Dickens novels or Halloween specials. Probably mostly Simpsons episodes...

Le Noir

Good evening.


Continuing in the vein of gushing over things that may have already had their moments in the sun, I wanted to spill my guts a bit about Brick, one of the best films I've stumbled across in a while. A friend recommended it after we realized we shared an admiration for the talents of Joseph Gordon-Levitt in (500) Days of Summer and Inception. He's an ensemble dark horse in Nolan's much-lauded film, and in this directorial debut for Rian Johnson he takes the lead as a high-school gum shoe.

Released in 2007 and written by the director, Brick is the story of Brendan (Levitt) as he investigates the death of a former love Emily, played by Emilie de Ravin (notorious for losing her baby in Lost). The tale centers around the titular brick of heroin and how its tainted nature may have brought about the death of Emily in the seedy underbelly of High School drug wars. As Brendan digs farther and farther into the murky depths of villainy he unravels the mystery one connection at a time. Allegiances are made, morals are compromised, dames are questioned and shots are fired.

To say the movie moved me would be an understatement. In the end...a peace is found, but it's not a happy one. Morality is grey. A superb little film. I wince at my own use of the word 'little' but I mean it only in the sense that this film is a beautiful, small and undiscovered (by mass audience) piece of modern noir storytelling.

Part of my adoration for Brick may stem from its nature of being quiet and personal, both in my relation to it and its

ability to be close, or human. Johnson created a world with living, breathing characters whose motivations, while not always clear, are certainly organic. When watched in the dark, alone, one is able to pay explicit attention to the wonderfully odd dialogue, a mix of teenagers being verbose and ridiculously hep slang terminology lifted from the noir classics. The vibe? Slick and dark, another primo example of my love of quiet art in the dark.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for this kind of stuff...