A dull, gloomy Monday evening on the back of six days of forty degree heat doesn't really provide much in the way of relief. Sometimes all that’s left after the blaze is hollowed out exhaustion. Jinja Safari tried their best to lift the vibe tonight, throwing as much as they could muster at an audience seemingly quite content to just stand around and enjoy the air conditioning.
They’re a strikingly solid live act, and in the right setting (i.e. Peat's Ridge) could be suitably energizing, providing one doesn’t think too hard about the occasional painfully naff lyric. Tonight though their single-minded insistence on the upbeat (the bongo player in particular working himself into a cheerfully oblivious frenzy), coupled with their Peter Gabriel-esque ‘World Music’ veneer (Pepa Knight’s sitar on ‘Peter Pan’ being merely the most obvious example) couldn’t help but fall flat. After a while the ecstatic can’t help but seem forced – or worse, boring.
No such criticism could ever be levelled at Menomena, every song being crammed to bursting with musical ideas. The aggregated loops that comprise their recorded material were transfigured tonight into a tightly honed and fully realised live performance, each element fitting together with atomic clock precision. Presenting material from Friend or Foe (with the notable exception of ‘Evil Bee’ to the chagrin of an annoyingly persistent fan) as well as some of the juiciest tracks from last year’s monumental Mines, the Portland trio (or quartet as they were this evening) were electrifying.
With long-time guitar/sax/vocalist Brent Knopf’s impending (and acrimonious) departure from the group, it wasn’t surprising that intra-band relations were strained. A headcold afflicted Knopf looked haggard, repeatedly slipping back of stage to blow his nose – and throwing his handkerchief around near an apparently shattered Danny Seim, who took none too kindly to such antics occurring anywhere near his drumkit.
When channelled into the music however, such tensions produced a wrenching spectacle, the band pouring their all – Seim particularly transforming himself from a motor-powered demon to a listless bundle of swear-drenched rags between songs – into a music as seamless and original as they are capable of. No wonder they no longer seem to hold anything but a sour tolerance for each other. Aside from remaining dates in other capitals this was probably the last chance for Australian audiences to see this group perform with all founding members intact. A privilege.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Wasted On The Young
High school can be a brutal place. In some ways it’s a closed world, the social hierarchies of wider society being present in miniature. Positions on the popularity ladder are rigidly enforced, developing personalities and raging hormones amplifying the emotional stakes for schoolyard romance and the casual cruelties of bullying alike.
Ben C. Lucas gets this. With his visually enticing thriller Wasted on the Young, the writer/director plunges viewers into the heady atmosphere in which young lives are shaped with nary a grown-up to be seen. Setting the tone for the social dynamics of this world is the uneasy alliance between stepbrothers Darren (Oliver Ackland, The Proposition), an inarticulate introvert and techno whizz, and Zack (newcomer Alex Russell), the smooth-talking kingpin (and resident pill pusher) at the expensive private school they both attend. Zack throws wild parties, surrounding himself with sycophants and hangers-on; Darren keeps his head down, and takes care of his brother’s homework. When the sweetly down-to-earth Xandrie (Adelaide Clemens, Love My Way, X-Men Origins) catches the eye of both, however, the stage is set for an explosive confrontation.
Drawing inspiration from sources as diverse as surreal Korean thriller Old Boy, Scorsese’s mob romp The Departed, gore-ridden Japanese schlockbuster Battle Royale, and stalwart HSC text Julius Caesar, Lucas spent nearly two years developing the script, throwing flesh and clothes onto an idea that was initially conceived as a trashy slasher flick. The result is a slickly absorbing melodrama, fusing personal experience with classical tragedy to form a thoughtful morality play: think Lord of the Flies colliding with Heartbreak High. While some may find certain elements confronting – the spectre of the Columbine massacre is raised, for example – Lucas is quick to point out that he wasn’t aiming for realism.
“Quite a lot of effort went into removing it from a recognisable environment, just to create a world that’s more thematically consistent than realistic. That involved heightening everything, so they’re all rich and beautiful and they have everything, but waste it all anyway.” Oliver Ackland echoes the sentiment: “it’s not supposed to be entrenched 100 percent in reality. Adults don’t have the final say – [but then] they don’t have a say at all a lot of the time when it comes to highschool, the hierarchies, what kids have to do to get by.”
Although much is already being made of Lucas’ creative incorporation of various social media into the film’s visual style – text messages are displayed on screen, Facebook gossip-mongering and CCTV provide grist to the plot, while digital pixilation and distortion suggests minds being quietly scrambled by intense social pressures – he points out that such technology is essential to the reality that teenagers negotiate every day.
“People love to talk about how fucked up kids are, [but] I honestly don’t think that bullying or power struggles are any different or ever will be; I think the only thing that has really changed is now you don’t need to take ownership of your insults … maybe the violence is more internally scarring because of that sort of impersonal nature of it. I don’t really see it [use of new technology] as symptomatic of anything. I didn’t want to make a movie about social networking, it’s not a comment on that technology, it’s just such a fundamental part of [teenage] life that you have to address.”
While the film embraces hyper-realism, to amplify the violent excesses of the story, it remains emotionally anchored by some great performances from its young and largely unknown cast. Clemens is luminous as the unfortunate Xandrie, while Ackland, who has recently finished shooting for the TV adaptation of The Slap, and will be appearing in TV adaptation of Tim Winton's Cloudstreet later this year, skilfully negotiates the hazards of portraying yet another ‘angry young man’.
“I connected with [Darren] immediately. Playing someone who’s a bit younger is exciting … You’ve got to remember that these are kids and that they’re seventeen and in high school. Alex and Adelaide were just great … It was fun to watch people creating these other people in front of you.”
Lucas was equally thrilled with the work of his cast, an extended rehearsal period ensuring an enjoyable and efficient shoot, and paying dividends onscreen. “We didn’t want to attach any stars, but wanted to cast characters [rather] than place talent,” he says. “That ended up being really rewarding, we got a real mixed-bag of people. Half of them had just graduated drama school, like NIDA and WAAPA. That meant they were all really keen, lots of energy, [with] a lot of technical ability as well, because of their training … It’s a horse race, any of them could break onto the world stage.”
As indeed might Lucas: negotiations for a Chinese co-production are underway, with other possibilities opening up in the US. “I’m reading projects in the States that are looking very promising. One of them looks to be shooting back here, so it’d be kind of a dream come true if I could actually poach a feature and bring it back home. That’d be a life ambition achieved really.”
First published in The Brag, Iss 401, February 28th 2010
Ben C. Lucas gets this. With his visually enticing thriller Wasted on the Young, the writer/director plunges viewers into the heady atmosphere in which young lives are shaped with nary a grown-up to be seen. Setting the tone for the social dynamics of this world is the uneasy alliance between stepbrothers Darren (Oliver Ackland, The Proposition), an inarticulate introvert and techno whizz, and Zack (newcomer Alex Russell), the smooth-talking kingpin (and resident pill pusher) at the expensive private school they both attend. Zack throws wild parties, surrounding himself with sycophants and hangers-on; Darren keeps his head down, and takes care of his brother’s homework. When the sweetly down-to-earth Xandrie (Adelaide Clemens, Love My Way, X-Men Origins) catches the eye of both, however, the stage is set for an explosive confrontation.
Drawing inspiration from sources as diverse as surreal Korean thriller Old Boy, Scorsese’s mob romp The Departed, gore-ridden Japanese schlockbuster Battle Royale, and stalwart HSC text Julius Caesar, Lucas spent nearly two years developing the script, throwing flesh and clothes onto an idea that was initially conceived as a trashy slasher flick. The result is a slickly absorbing melodrama, fusing personal experience with classical tragedy to form a thoughtful morality play: think Lord of the Flies colliding with Heartbreak High. While some may find certain elements confronting – the spectre of the Columbine massacre is raised, for example – Lucas is quick to point out that he wasn’t aiming for realism.
“Quite a lot of effort went into removing it from a recognisable environment, just to create a world that’s more thematically consistent than realistic. That involved heightening everything, so they’re all rich and beautiful and they have everything, but waste it all anyway.” Oliver Ackland echoes the sentiment: “it’s not supposed to be entrenched 100 percent in reality. Adults don’t have the final say – [but then] they don’t have a say at all a lot of the time when it comes to highschool, the hierarchies, what kids have to do to get by.”
Although much is already being made of Lucas’ creative incorporation of various social media into the film’s visual style – text messages are displayed on screen, Facebook gossip-mongering and CCTV provide grist to the plot, while digital pixilation and distortion suggests minds being quietly scrambled by intense social pressures – he points out that such technology is essential to the reality that teenagers negotiate every day.
“People love to talk about how fucked up kids are, [but] I honestly don’t think that bullying or power struggles are any different or ever will be; I think the only thing that has really changed is now you don’t need to take ownership of your insults … maybe the violence is more internally scarring because of that sort of impersonal nature of it. I don’t really see it [use of new technology] as symptomatic of anything. I didn’t want to make a movie about social networking, it’s not a comment on that technology, it’s just such a fundamental part of [teenage] life that you have to address.”
While the film embraces hyper-realism, to amplify the violent excesses of the story, it remains emotionally anchored by some great performances from its young and largely unknown cast. Clemens is luminous as the unfortunate Xandrie, while Ackland, who has recently finished shooting for the TV adaptation of The Slap, and will be appearing in TV adaptation of Tim Winton's Cloudstreet later this year, skilfully negotiates the hazards of portraying yet another ‘angry young man’.
“I connected with [Darren] immediately. Playing someone who’s a bit younger is exciting … You’ve got to remember that these are kids and that they’re seventeen and in high school. Alex and Adelaide were just great … It was fun to watch people creating these other people in front of you.”
Lucas was equally thrilled with the work of his cast, an extended rehearsal period ensuring an enjoyable and efficient shoot, and paying dividends onscreen. “We didn’t want to attach any stars, but wanted to cast characters [rather] than place talent,” he says. “That ended up being really rewarding, we got a real mixed-bag of people. Half of them had just graduated drama school, like NIDA and WAAPA. That meant they were all really keen, lots of energy, [with] a lot of technical ability as well, because of their training … It’s a horse race, any of them could break onto the world stage.”
As indeed might Lucas: negotiations for a Chinese co-production are underway, with other possibilities opening up in the US. “I’m reading projects in the States that are looking very promising. One of them looks to be shooting back here, so it’d be kind of a dream come true if I could actually poach a feature and bring it back home. That’d be a life ambition achieved really.”
First published in The Brag, Iss 401, February 28th 2010
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Deerhunter with Tiger Choir @ The Metro 8th February 2011
Sideshow season in Sydney provides all manner of opportunities for Aus acts looking for a leg up in the support slot sweepstakes. Taswegian three piece Tiger Choir got the nod this evening (possibly as much thanks to extra-leaved clovers as the strength of last year’s self-titled debut EP – judging by the grin glued to his face, singer Elliot Taylor, for one, seemed unable to shake his disbelief at the band’s presence) and made the most of it, mixing zippy little pop punk numbers (in the vein of Die! Die! Die!) amongst some less inspired electronic fare. Promising, but nothing to write home about, on this occasion anyway.
Deerhunter did their thing at The Annandale when last they were in town. They’ve had a leg up or two of their own since then, Bradford Cox’s stellar songwriting chops (and whimsy) taking the group in a poppier direction, and reaching a wider audience, with last year’s stellar Halcyon Digest. Which isn’t to say that they don’t do convulsively brain-churning quarter-hour effects-pedal-offs anymore, but rather that they’ve simply learnt how to keep themselves in check, Cox foregoing the gloriously odd-ball rants in which he’s sometimes indulged with the band themselves barely stopping for air before an apparently capacity crowd.
While they’re masters of ironic delivery (right down to the cutesy half-smiled bows by which bass-player Josh Fauver acknowledges audience enthusiasm at the close of each song), the overriding impression Deerhunter give nowadays is of an earned effortlessness, Cox and guitarist Lockett Pundt playing with an unfussed, I Could Keep Doing This All Day sense of containment. Highlights tonight come in two flavours, the punchy day-glo pop of the former (such as the harmonica-riffed ‘Memory Boy’) and the tightly interlocking, carefully choreographed guitar jams of ‘Desire Lines’ or ‘Nothing Ever Happened’, powered by the latter’s meticulous picking.
Even the most ardent fan’s patience was tested come encore time however, the band, their duty done, using the nostalgic waves of ‘Cover Me (Slowly)’ (track one of 2008’s breakthrough album Microcastle) as the launch-pad for a twenty-five minute descent into Clive Barker-esque psychedelic sound sculpture, culminating in the aforementioned Cox-Pundt pedal-off. You’ve gotta love a group that can empty a place as surely as they can fill it.
Deerhunter did their thing at The Annandale when last they were in town. They’ve had a leg up or two of their own since then, Bradford Cox’s stellar songwriting chops (and whimsy) taking the group in a poppier direction, and reaching a wider audience, with last year’s stellar Halcyon Digest. Which isn’t to say that they don’t do convulsively brain-churning quarter-hour effects-pedal-offs anymore, but rather that they’ve simply learnt how to keep themselves in check, Cox foregoing the gloriously odd-ball rants in which he’s sometimes indulged with the band themselves barely stopping for air before an apparently capacity crowd.
While they’re masters of ironic delivery (right down to the cutesy half-smiled bows by which bass-player Josh Fauver acknowledges audience enthusiasm at the close of each song), the overriding impression Deerhunter give nowadays is of an earned effortlessness, Cox and guitarist Lockett Pundt playing with an unfussed, I Could Keep Doing This All Day sense of containment. Highlights tonight come in two flavours, the punchy day-glo pop of the former (such as the harmonica-riffed ‘Memory Boy’) and the tightly interlocking, carefully choreographed guitar jams of ‘Desire Lines’ or ‘Nothing Ever Happened’, powered by the latter’s meticulous picking.
Even the most ardent fan’s patience was tested come encore time however, the band, their duty done, using the nostalgic waves of ‘Cover Me (Slowly)’ (track one of 2008’s breakthrough album Microcastle) as the launch-pad for a twenty-five minute descent into Clive Barker-esque psychedelic sound sculpture, culminating in the aforementioned Cox-Pundt pedal-off. You’ve gotta love a group that can empty a place as surely as they can fill it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)