Just a few quick thoughts on music, movies, TV, and books I've seen/read/heard over the last few months:
The Mountain Goats: I heard "Cotton" as soundtrack to an episode of Weeds and loved it. Since, I've purchased We Shall All Be Healed and The Sunset Tree. Both dark, yet funny. John Darnielle, who really is the Mountain Goats, won't be winning any vocalist awards, but he sure writes interesting songs.
Weeds: A friend rented the season 1 and 2 DVD's over the summer, and I got hooked. Season 3 wasn't as funny as the first two, but still well worth the half hour every week. I think the misadventures of the pot-dealing, neighborhood hot mom appeals to the same part of my psyche that gets goofy with joy when David Letterman drops stuff off the Ed Sullivan Theater.
The Postal Service: Their Give Up disc came out in 2003, but I first heard of it a few weeks ago. I looked up some of the tracks on youtube and finally picked it up. It reminds me so much of early '80's synth-pop--Human League, Soft Cell, etc.--as well as The Pet Shop Boys. I can't decide if it's more or less esoteric than PSB, but I love it either way.
No Country for Old Men: I read the book and saw the movie, both of which are excellent but difficult to make sense of if you're not paying very close attention. You'll be confused and annoyed if you miss this key fact: The story is about the sheriff and what the events mean to him, not the guy who finds the money. Don't let the relative time spent on each fool you.
Pushing Daisies: It's the best parts of The Wizard of Oz, Edward Scissorhands, Willie Wonka (Gene Wilder, not Johnny Depp), and a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movie shaken, not stirred. I can't get enough.
Monday, December 10, 2007
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2 comments:
I loved No Country for Old Men and it didn't hit me until the very end that it was about Tommy Lee Jones. It was then that I also realized that it didn't matter that we didn't see the fight because it was the aftermath that was far more important.
His No Country novel and that from this past summer, _The Road,_ are each excellent, I think. They both explore bleak settings with bleaker possibilities, but hold out just a little bit of some sort of possible means through which the overwhelming bleakness, depravity and hopelessness can be endured. I will also say, however, that McCarthy seems to have written these two recent novels without the intense descriptions of scenery and interior thought that he exhibits in _Blood Meridian._ In spite of that difference--not necessarily a criticism--I find myself wanting to read McCarthy over and over and over again.
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