"The Girl in the Cafe"

Movies are like food-sometimes you're in the mood for junk, sometimes you need something more substantial. When you are looking for a small little something that will touch you may I recommend "The Girl in the Cafe". It's an HBO movie (or at least that's where it was shown in this country) starring Bill Nighy who is perhaps best known as the crazy bad singer in "Love, Actually". Nighy plays a British civil servant, a classic lonely guy, who meets a young woman in a cafe (natch) one day and they end up sharing a table because there is no where else for him to sit. They get to talking, awkwardly and quite realistically (for a movie at least, it's definately not meeting cute) and he eventually ends up asking her for a date. They have dinner which is also quite awkward but also quite sweet-for the viewer it's a total pleasure to see these 2 lonely people trying to connect. Eventually he asks her to accompany him to Iceland where he is a member of the British team attending the G8 summit there. She accepts and though the trip starts promisingly it hits a snag when she expresses her honest opinions about the politics involved to his superior. Not surprisingingly his superior doesn't appreciate it and tells him to keep her in check.

And then the really good writing comes into play. (kudos to Richard Curtis!)

Both of our characters have been set up so well, so well that we viewers didn't even realize it, that what happens next is both completely believable and wholly inevitable which is of course how a good story should be. I won't ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it by saying more I'll just repeat my recommendation. If you're looking for a great little movie check out "The Girl in the Cafe".

about "Elizabethtown" again

As I have written here before, I have issues with the movie "Elizabethtown". Though I felt I was hardwired to like it (with the possible exception of "Vanilla Sky" I like Cameron Crowe-whimsy and all-I'm from Kentucky, and it has Paula Deen, My Morning Jacket and Patty Griffin in it) instead it turned into, as Dennis Miller would say, "one of those you can't off your mind or the bottom of your shoe." It just went so wrong for me it was almost car wreck like.

It has been on my mind cause a Kentucky friend of mine watched it recently for the first time and our discussion brought back my bad feelings about the movie.

Seperate from the poorly written, meanadering script (in my opinion if you make Susan Sarandon look bad in a movie it's a baaad script) and the uneven acting (Orlando Bloom should perhaps confine himself to movies with swords) my chief complaint was this:

Guys, the quirky girl can't save you. Ya'll have to save yourselves, then you'll be ready for a real relationship.

Now this is a movie conceit as old as stories themselves (hello Pygmalion!) and in better hands, or at least better circumstances, it certainly can make for enjoyable watching. Think "Pretty Woman" or "Pretty in Pink" to name just two. Or "Breakfast at Tiffany's".

But in a far better movie, the one you should put in your Netflix queue instead of "E-Town", "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", our quirky girl, Clementine, expresses it best.

"Joel, I'm not a concept. I want you to just keep that in your head. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm going to make them alive, but I'm just a fucked up girl who is looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours."

Gentleman, please bear that in mind.

The Bottle Rockets

So the last show of our rock n' roll week was billed by the local press as a show by The Bottle Rockets.

Of all of the roots growing from the tree that was Uncle Tupelo (to give them complete credit for the alt country whatever that is movement is to ignore a whole lot of music history but that's a subject for another day and blog) The Bottle Rockets are my favorite. I like Wilco and I want to like Son Volt but the pride of Festus, Missouri has my vote. Singer, guitarist and primary writer Brian Henneman fronts a straight up, gas to the floor, heart on its sleeve rock band. The lyrics are strong and the music is terrific. One of the things that will be on their press materials forever is that Esquire once named them the best bar band in America which is about as good a thumbnail sketch as you could ask for.

So it was billed as their show. Bobby Bare Jr. was also listed but not as the headliner. So we show up late which was, of course, early by rock show time, early enough to suffer through a couple of songs by the openers. (They were sure sweating a lot I just didn't care for what they were sweating over.) Then we see some of the Bottle Rockets come out (they still do their own heavy lifting) which is actually better from a scheduling, "have to work the next morning" standpoint. They get ready and proceed to play their new record "Zoysia" in its entirety, in chronological order.

It wasn't a Bottle Rockets show, it was a CD release party.

Now there's not a thing wrong with that. It was a great way to get to know the new record (for the uninitiated zoysia is a kind of weed-think kudzu or crabgrass) especially with Brian's witty comments interspersed throughout. (I especially liked "Better Than Broken" and "Happy Anniversary".) It just wasn't what I thought it was going to be so as much as I enjoyed it I was still left standing pining for what I didn't hear. What?! No "$1000 Car"? No "Indianapolis"? What the hell? Hopefully, they will be back around soon to play a full blown show with all my favorites. In the meantime , I'll take comfort in their other new release, "Bottle Rockets Live From Heilbronn" a 2 CD concert from Germany that totally kicks it. If you aren't familiar with them it would be a great place to start.


The Bottle Rockets "Zoysia" is available on Bloodshot Records.

Tale of Two Kings

So we survived our rock n' roll week, only slightly worse for the wear. Saturday was the Detroit Festival of the Arts which takes place all around the Wayne State University campus. It's a great time regardless, always nice to see people heading downtown to do anything.

First up was Richard Thompson, who we were a little late for because of construction traffic and the inherent difficulty of herding 6 adults anywhere. He was playing a very funny song about ED when we walked up. I snagged a spot on the grass and immediately ceased all conversation. (It's Richard Thompson for god's sake and I'd never seen him before.) Thompson is a total pro of course, after 30 some odd years of performing but he seemed to be having a genuinely good time. While it was light he could definately see the audience and was interacting with specific people and taking requests. (I would have called one out myself but I didn't know what we'd missed.) He also had one of the most beautiful guitars I have ever seen-nothing flashy just solidly perfectly beautiful. He did many songs I wanted to hear ("Bright Lights Tonight", "Cooksferry Queen") but my favorite was "1952 Vincent Black Lightening" with it's pretty guitar melody that carries the weight of the song's sad story. I got a little choked up and had to exchange a meaningful glance with my boyfriend. (i.e. "It's the Vincent Black Lightning song!")

After that (and some festival food) we moved on to another stage and Solomon Burke. Resplendant in purple sequins on a silver throne like seat (we stood, he sat which seemed just right for King Solomon) he was in great voice and extremely welcoming. The band sounded great especially the horn section. Knowing a bit about the man's ups and downs and downs to see a large diverse crowd all enjoying his company together was the best kind of celebration. I hope the man has years and years to go but when he is called home I hope it's after a show like that. A legend could have no more fitting end.

Be My Valentine James McMurtry

It's crazy music week around here-4 shows in 7 days. We still have Richard Thompson, Solomon Burke and The Bottle Rockets to look forward to but we kicked it off on Monday with James McMurtry. I had never seen him live before and was very excited. After a trying day (work at 6am, rush to the hospital to make my checkup, hurry to the other side of town through rush hour and construction) it was a relief to make it to the Magic Bag, second in line and sure to get a seat. Of course I would have stood but due to age and circumstance, I find myself very concerned with seating at shows these days. Working 10 hours retail on your feet then facing still more standing (usually on unforgiving concrete) makes me consider my choices carefully which sometimes ends with, "Yeah, it'd be fun to see them but..".

Anyway the show was great which would not surprise anyone who has heard his "Live in Aught Three" record which is one of the liveliest, most clearly recorded live CDs around. (It also functions as an excellent introduction to the man.) The place was full (though the crowd skewed kind of old, I think we were among the youngest present) and yes, there were Canadians. They were apparently long time fans who got a special thanks for bringing him some cool fishing stuff. The crowd was into the show even if we weren't dancing as much as James would have liked. One of his funniest lines of the night was , "Where I come from if people aren't moving it means you suck. Hope I don't suck." (This also turned into another funny one during the crowd favorite "Choctaw Bingo" where he said, "We're getting to the good part and I have always found the good part is even better when everybody is moving around." Considering the "money" lines of that song concern an encounter between 3 second cousins at a family reunion and a large, very hard erection it was pretty damn funny.) But the more obvious charms of "Choctaw Bingo" (and the splendidly angry "We Can't Make It Here Anymore") were far outweighed by the quieter moments that struck me hard.

I mean hard.

Still thinking about it days later hard.

The a cappella part of "Holiday" when even the Canadians were quiet. The stunning stillness in "Charlemagne's Home Town" especially in the lines, "the color snap shots I sent you/all came out in black and white". And the lovely, lonely wistfulness of my favorite, the one I most wanted to hear, "Lights of Cheyenne". You don't often get that kind of beauty in a rock and roll show. Not by a long shot.

So today I am nominating James McMurtry as the Recording Artist I Most Want To Be My Valentine. Why? Because of his heart of course. Cause when things would be sweet so would they, in profusion, and when things weren't, as frequently happens in his songs and in my life, the Valentines would keep coming. Valentines of a rarer, bittersweet kind, full of a different longing. But he wouldn't forget me. Now I don't know the man and there can be danger in presumption but I know a torch carrier when I see one from being one myself and we are the best kind of Valentines.

Oh Sweet Irony

Regular readers of my blog know that I have issues with our downstairs neighbor (see "Letter to My Neighbor" for an elaboration of their crimes againest common courtesy). That individual has morphed into others (we think-frankly it's really hard to tell who lives there) but the rude problems persist. So, when angry and considering possible retaliations, none of which I would actually do (I never really get past cranky comments), pouring toilet water on their heads never actually came up. But, thanks to a unknown crack in our toilet tank, that's what happened this past weekend. We now have a new toilet tank (even though it's one of those lousy water saving jobs) and as of yesterday they still didn't have a bathroom.

I have only two words for them on this matter.

And they are:

tee hee.