"Spiderman 3" (2007) Sam Raimi

The central premise of Sam Raimi’s epic Spiderman 3 concerns the alien symbiote that crashes to earth and affixes itself to Tobey Maguire’s nerdy Peter Parker. This black goo influences Peter and he turns into “evil-Spidey”, illustrated in the film by a black suit and an emo fringe. Thus, the superhero is transformed, caught between his sweet, geektastic nobility and his newfound swagger, all eyeliner and hip-thrusts.

In somewhat the same way, I myself face an internal struggle when it comes to my feelings about Spidey 3. My purist self insists that it’s badly made, overlong and cheesy, while my snarky side tells me that it’s pure fun escapism. There’s no doubt that I was thoroughly entertained by most of this film (though at times I began to drift) but the snobbish side of me refuses to call it a Great Film.

My main problem is the sheer bulk of the film. In 2 ½ hours we have to grapple with three supervillians, the symbiote, Peter’s relationships with Mary Jane and Gwen Stacey and the tying up of any loose ends from the first two. Being a Spiderman movie, we have to have shots of our friendly neighbourhood you-know-what zooming through New York, a Stan Lee cameo and emotional pathos. Being a Sam Raimi movie, we need Bruce Campbell. Being the third and (most likely) final film with these actors, we need it to exceed all our expectations, thrill, amaze and move us. I’m not entirely sure it accomplished all this, but it certainly tried.

The three villains are all interesting in their own way. The Sandman (Thomas Hayden Church) has the best visuals and acting, but his story is a little sentimental even for a Spiderman film. Venom’s graphics are great, but Sam Raimi’s well-publicised dislike of the character means that he’s shoehorned in at the last minute and doesn’t get to do much (although Topher Grace makes a convincing Peter Parker negative). Harry Osborne (the wonderful James Franco) dons his father’s suit to create the best baddie; a proper backstory, likeable character and convincing acting make his scenes some of the standout moments. However, do we really need the three of them? The culmative battle scene with the four is impressive, but not worth the struggle it takes getting there, plodding through their various storylines with not enough time to fully explore any.

The alien symbiote is a strange beast, transforming our hero not into Evil Spiderman as much as Fall Out Spider-Boy. The scene in which he struts down the high street in full-on Saturday Night Fever mode is too bizarre for words. I would have much preferred a darker Spiderman. They could have easily have thrown the emo-stylin’s onto the dvd special features, but in a packed cinema the general air was that of utter bemusement.

At the screening I attended, the scenes that got the best receptions were the two humourous interludes. The first starred one of my favourite characters, editor of the Daily Bugle, J. Jonah Jameson, who got a chance to hark back to 1940’s screwball comedies for more screen time than ever before. The second scene involved Peter, M.J., a wedding ring and a hilarious French waiter, played by scene-stealer Bruce Campbell. Stan Lee’s cameo elected murmurs of approval from the audience as well, while I heard that at some screenings (although not, unfortunately, mine) the audience actually applauded Peter Parker for punching Mary-Jane. If Kirsten Dunst was a good actress, I’d care.

Following the magnificent Spiderman 2, this film is a definite step-down. Leave your sky-high expectations at the door, cheer at Bruce Campbell and enjoy the campiness of it all – just be thankful they didn’t hire Brett Ratner.

"Love is a Mix Tape" by Rob Sheffield

This post is long overdue, but as it's the weekend I thought I may as well write it up.

Catherine loves this book!

There are some books that grab you from the first glance, a startling opening sentence, paragraph or chapter. Books that from the moment you begin to read them, you know you are going to love. "Love is a Mix Tape" is one such book. From the opening paragraph, I was hooked.

"The playback: late night, Brooklyn, a pot of coffee, and a chair by the window. I'm listening to a mixtape from 1993. Nobody can hear it but me. The neighbors are asleep. The skater kids who sit on my front steps, drink beer and blast Polish hip-hop - they're gone for the night. The diner next door is closed, but the air is still full of borscht and kielbasa.

This is where I live now. A different town, a different apartment, a different year.

This mixtape is just another piece of useless junk that Renee left behind. A category that I guess tonight includes me."

The maudlin tone, the hint of doomed romance, the music and the New York setting; this book knows all the right buttons to press to make me fall in love with it, and fall I swiftly did, reading it in one sitting during the last midterm (told you this post was overdue).

Rob Sheffield is a music journo who has written for Rolling Stone and various other publications. He is the type of person who lives his life immersed in music, from his childhood playing Beatles records with his dad, to his adult life, in which he has made a living out of it. It has informed his decisions, his friends, his social status and his lovelife.

Rob met his soulmate, Renee, in a bar in Virginia. They bonded over their shared love of the band Big Star and got talking. In time, they fell deeply in love, moved in together and got married. He was a shy Irish-American nerd, she was a loud Southern girl with a flamboyant style of dress, but the love they had is something so sweet, so pure, so true that it breaks your heart as you read on, and discover that Renee died in 1997. With this memoir, Sheffield chronicles his life before, after and especially during his time with her, documenting each chapter of his life with a mix tape - selections of songs that he listened to that now conjure back memories, some harsh, some sad, some funny, some sweet.

Reading this book, I was listening to Sleater-Kinney. I remember it quite clearly, because I went over to my shelves to especially look for Dig Me Out. At one point in the book, the song "One More Hour" is written about, "the saddest Sleater Kinney song ever", in relation to Renee's funeral. I hadn't listened to the band in a long time, but this book helped me to rediscover them. There are numerous references to bands and singers throughout the memoir, some of whom I'd heard of, some who I already loved and some who I hadn't a clue about. As well as the story of one man's love for his wife, "Love is a Mix Tape" is a first hand account of the American indie scene in the early 90s. The growth of grunge, Pavement, the rise of Nirvana and Kurt's death; these are all touched upon, and it is a pleasure to read about the time period in such an approachable style.

Somewhat astonishingly, Sheffield never descends into sickening self-pity. Yes, his young wife died suddenly, but he manages to handle the sad chapters with good grace and bittersweet humour. Many places of the story had me crying, but there are laughs to be had and by the end of it I felt utterly satisfied. Throughout the course of it's short 220 pages, I became fast friends of Rob and Renee and the life they built around music.

Finally, my own personal "No real connection but they're all songs I'm digging on this Friday playlist"

1. Laura Nyro, "Time and Love"
2. The Bird and the Bee, "Fucking Boyfriend"
3. Regina Spektor, "Hotel Song"
4. Sleater Kinney, "Combat Rock"
5. Tori Amos, "Muhummad My Friend"
6. Rufus Wainwright, "Poses"
7. Fiona Apple, "Extraodinary Machine"
8. Girl Talk, "Bounce That"
9. Joanna Newsom, "Inflammatory Writ" (SHE'S ON JOOLS HOLLAND TONGHT!!!)
10. Justin Trousersnake, "What Goes Around"

Happy weekend, y'all.

Tori Amos - "American Doll Posse"

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Sunday's Lyrics

Digable Planets - Pacifics (New York is Red Hot)

Butterfly searchin for a relax
Pullin from the jazz stacks cause it's Sunday
On the air is incense sounds to the ceiling
Tried to get this feelin since Monday
Lookin out the window watchin all the people go
Buggin off a funny vibe cause now it seems they're equal
Wonder what would 'trane say wonder what my pop say
Buggin off the calmness in the Apple

Who me I'm coolin in NY, I'm chillin in NY
The hoods is on my block and the brothers at the court
The baseball hats is on and the projects is calm
Dreamtime's extended - and highly recommended
But early birds like me's up checkin out the scene
The early worms jog, forget about your job
Just come dig the essence while the decadence is hidden
when people act like people the theory ??
If you know the norm it's like Hades transformed
On sunday's early hours the city sprouts its flowers
So get with the rhythms while you gettin with the planets
Vibe off the jams but don't take them for granted

We venture through the streets in search of funky beats
Extensive is the travels and it's heavy on the sneaks
ye it's kickin out the speakers of the sunday morning jeepers
my man do planets do it lovely?
Am I my brother's keeper?

We foot it to the park where the swoon units walk
And sit with the phoenicians diggin on musicians
Hangin with the rebels sippin on a Snapple
Buggin with my crew just trippin in the Apple
you be thinkin peace when you're vibin with your flock
But you be thinkin damn everybody's got a glock
If you got some beef please express that in silence
or else - violence

But right here is the life it's the children of the concrete
Livin off the fruits and the functions of the fat beats
Hip-Hop's all around the members is growin
Please dig on the sounds cause the good vibes they snowin

Wake up, prayin' that the game's on
Maybe it's the Runnin' Rebs, maybe it's the Knicks
maybe it's a rerun of an old tv show
like hawaii 5-0 or karate flicks
maybe if the phone rings butterfly will take wings
speakin on some cool things frontin like i cope
born under flat ground now i'm chillin shaky ground
reachin for pacific heights sunday is my rope - dig it

Sunday's to relax
Some Sunday morning drama is callin up my mama
The hot line is in I guess they knew the deal
Vibin off the jams of the crews on Sugarhill
Lay around and think ain't nothin to do
Checkin out some frommes, some satre, camus
Mingus's Ah Um, damn Roach can drum!
The DP's are life there they go here they come
It's time to grab some loot put on the timber boots
Checking out some dollies/dali's like tasha and kamali
NY is a museum with its posters and graffiti
If you're in the city on Sunday
come check me, get with me

Bouncing Off Clouds!

I can't find my digital camera right now, but if I could, I'd upload a picture of me grinning with my copy of American Doll Posse.

Yes!!! The new album is mine, as of this morning, when my darling mother decided to treat me, under the promise of housework. Sure, I'll do the hoovering if it means getting my mitts on the Limited Edition version. Which is the version I plumped for, even though I promised myself I wouldn't. I've done this with Radiohead's Hail to the Thief and Tori's Scarlett's Walk and a couple others, and the problem with Special Editions is that they never fit onto my cd shelf. Which is a minor annoyance, but I cannot resist the lure of a lush fold-out package with an extra dvd promising bonus material and postcards.

I'm glad I chose the Special Edition, in the end. The packaging is really great; numerous striking photographs of Tori dolled up in dresses and wigs, short blurbs introducing us to the 4 new concept characters (nothing straightforward about them, no "favourite colour" bullshit to let us into their personalities. although Pip's line "Alternatively, to think that some cheerleaders don't have razors in their snatch is to be foolishly unarmed" made me snort with laughter). The dvd is minor, there's no interviews or studio footage but we do get footage of them shooting the cover art and photographs, plus there's a great great great song, "My Posse Can Do" that should have been included on the album proper.

So, onto the album. At 23 tracks, it's far too long. That's not really up for debate, most anyone will agree that 10 or 12 great songs is far better than an album twice as long, but half as good. After only one full-through listen (though it was an "attentive, no reading the new issue of Empire, through headphones" kinda listen) I'm still a little hazy in some parts. There are some definite stand-outs already, single "Big Wheel", the respectfully barbed "Yo George", the jaunty "Programmable Soda". Tori starts channeling her neglected fan-favourite "Take To The Sky" on the Russian-themed "Velvet Revolution" and there's some exquisite string sections and harmonies. And I haven't even mentioned the glam-rock stomp feel she has going on at many points, which is unexpected, but kinda awesome. I might write a proper review if I can focus my thoughts a little more cohesively, but it'll take a little while for me to break this album in, due to it's sheer magnitude. Word.

Daft Punk Are Playing In My Head...In My Head.

Thank fug it's friday.

Some news to set us up for the weekend:

- "American Doll Posse" gets a good review in The Guardian today! Caroline Sullivan gives it 4/5 stars, "Some of her best work in years is here...cut to ten tracks it would have been one of her most significant records". I have no idea when I'll have the cash to buy it, but it looks set to be a good one.

- Julia Stiles ditches the Shakespeare adaptations to star in the film adaptation of Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. Which could go either way, really. Especially when you read what they say about it, The book has many dark overtones, but Rattray said the project will emphasize some of the more uplifting elements. "Esther Greenwood has a strong outlook on life, and we're really looking to bring out the humor in the character," she said. "We don't want to do a depressing descent into the world of suicide." It's been two years since I read The Bell Jar, but I don't recall it being a bundle of hilarity. Maybe that was just me..

-Another book-to-film adaptation I heard about last week but neglected to mention, is the fabulous The Time Traveler's Wife, which is set to star Eric Bana and Rachel McAdams. The director will be the German, Robert Schwentke. Before he signed on, rumoured directors were the likes of Speilberg, Fincher and Gus Van Sant. I'm relieved it's a relative unknown instead, hopefully it'll stay true to the spirit and scope of the source novel.

- My hanky is already damp...Apparently the Magneto spin-off will not star Ian McKellen, but a younger actor. Why they'd do such a thing is beyond me...those damn fools! No-one will ever fill that ridiculous helmet as well.

- Not really "news" per se, but my family finally found a copy of the third (and final) season of Arrested Development last weekend. My parents have finished watching it, I still have half to go. I'm loath to finish, because after that I know I'll have no new epsiodes left to see. Still, I can console myself with the beloved Chicken Dance...

Y Kant Tori Make Good Videos?

I'm all excited! The last time Tori Amos had a new album coming out, it was entitled "The Beekeeper" and I bought it with money recieved after doing the Junior Cert. I was really pysched about buying it and I distinctly remember getting it, along with Bloc Party's debut "Silent Alarm" on the same day. I even got the Special Edition of Tori's album, paying just that little bit extra for fancy packaging and a dvd just because I love her music.

Unfortunatly, it was terrible. I listened to it twice through and put it back on the shelf. Since then I've listened to certain tracks again, but mostly it lies there gathering dust, unlistened to. "The Beekeeper" is a very poor album, especially from an artist with such a great back catalogue.

But I suppose Tori Amos has always been quite patchy. Out of the albums I'm familiar with, here are my rankings:

1. Under The Pink (1993)
2. Little Earthquakes (1991)
3. From The Choirgirl Hotel (1998)
4. Scarlett's Walk/Welcome to Sunny Florida (2002/2004)
5. Strange Little Girls (2001)
6. To Venus and Back (1999)
.
.
.
.
.
176. The Beekeeper (2005)

Obviously I'm discounting her best-of and I haven't heard Boys For Pele properly the whole way through to comment on and I doubt I'll ever want to hear "Y Kant Tori Read", but it's clear that Amos' best work is her earlier material, before marriage and motherhood dulled her tongue and knack for a tune. A journalist once commented that the only way to get a decent album from Tori nowadays would be to "kidnap her daughter" which is harsh, but probably true. I certainly thought so, until I saw the video for her latest single "Big Wheel".


Okay, the video is very student-y and shoddily made, but the song is such a refreshing change! I love the jaunty piano, the bluegrassy feel of the chorus, the sense that Tori has her spark back. I'm suddenly eager to buy its parent album, "American Doll Posse" which is landing instores on 1st May. Looking at the promo pictures and hearing this song has restored my faith! Here's hoping it's not another Beekeeper-fiasco...

Edit - Okay, well it looks like the video got pulled off YouTube. No matter, you can still hear it, along with the rest of "American Doll Posse" at Tori's Myspace. There's only so much stop-motion Tori you can take, so it's probably better just to listen to it.

I was almost reluctant to hear these songs before buying the album, but then I thought - screw it. It's not illegal if she put them up herself, and I have no idea when I'll have the money to buy the real thing. Currently on track 4 (but I won't get much further as I'm going to Stars In Yer Eyes in a few minutes. Perliminary thoughts - it's very much a rock album, which can only be a good thing after the Middle-of-the-Road cringe that was "The Beekeeper". I'm still psyched, people.