Inferno (A Poet's Novel), Eileen Myles (2010)

Many year ago, about ten years ago, I was handed Eileen Myles' Cool For You. It was written in a very interesting style. But, the novel made me sick. There were passages that turned my stomach. As a whole, I found the book to be too much. Too boring, too gross, and trying too hard. I never finished the book. When I started reading reviews for Inferno, I was confused by all the praise. Myles has always received rave reviews for her work, but this novel seemed to be getting even more attention. When I discovered the topic was about writing as much as it was about the writer, I was determined to get my hands on a copy.

Getting your hands on a copy isn't as easy as snapping your fingers. Or, clicking on Amazon. The item is only available through the publisher's website and select book stores. I was lucky enough to find a stack of autographed copies at a cute little bookstore in Brooklyn. I didn't get to start the novel while I was in New York, but I think that is how the book was best started. Leaving the city, up above who knows where and too many miles away from the city, I decided to start on my journey through Myles' version of hell. The novel starts out beautifully. I felt I was arriving back into the city instead of turning away.

I am not a fan of memoir, autobiography, or most non-fiction. It is just a fact I've realized with all the reading experience over my lifetime. But, Myles manages to start Inferno out in such a way that it doesn't feel too personal. Inferno is pushed as fiction, but the main characters name is Eileen Myles. Much of what is being stated is based on or loosely based on Myles' personal life. I am a huge fan of the artist turning themselves into fiction in this manner. It is my personal favorite way to compose short stories, too. I admired how Myles treated herself, her character, her art.

About halfway through the novel there is a new section. A section that plays out like a grant application. At times, funny. At times, a great bit of satire. But, mostly, too personal. Myles has lost the creative path of the first section of the novel. We are now delving into the phases of her work (theatre pieces, poetry, poetry readings, etc). Myles begins dropping names left and right (Patti Smith, Kathy Acker, John Ashberry, Lynne Tillman, etc). And, at first, knowing all these names and the art they are attached to made for interesting reading. Connecting who they were with who they've become. But, it starts to make the reader feel detached. As if Myles wants to show off. Of, thinks she is too cool. All the while she is acting uncomfortable and a bit shy. I just wasn't' buying all of it.

The writing remains beautiful throughout the piece. Her language is lovely. Myles is playful, sharp, and biting. While the first half of the novel is certainly stronger on many levels, the writing never really falls to the side like the story.

B

Deliverance (John Boorman) - 1972

I recently watched the 2010 remake of the 1978 film I Spit on Your Grave. The original film, and the remake, have often been reviewed as examples of over the top and sick torture porn. I have never seen the original, but am not sure I agree with these statements for the remake. I Spit on Your Grave is meant as a feminist horror film. A woman is raped by four men when she goes to a country cabin to work on her novel. As the cliche 'revenge is a dish best served cold' proves, the woman waits a month before she returns to inflict all kinds of pain and madness on the men who attacked her. I was never disgusted by her actions. I believe we live in a society where rape isn't viewed as the vile act of control that it really is. We all are shocked and upset by it, but little is ever talked about in the way of solution. Alright, all that is a little beside the point... As I watched I Spit on Your Grave, I thought to myself, "why do we never see male on male rape in films?" It only proved my point that we culturally accept rape as a part of life for women. Then, I viewed Deliverance and was surprised by what I saw.

The famous 'squeal like a piggie' scene of Deliverance is often joked about. I knew the reference, but not the entirety of the scene. I thought Ned Beatty was stripped and forced to make a full of himself. I was wrong. Beatty is raped by a man. We aren't shown much of this rape. We hear the sounds and we see a little bit of movement. This may be one of the tiniest rape scenes in film history, but it goes a long way in disturbing the audience. Not only are we not made aware of these situations in films, but we aren't made aware of these situations in real life. We're supposed to be watching a beautiful woman in revealing clothes being raped in a playful, almost overly sexualized way, (although, see Irreversible for an example of the most pained rape scene to make its way to film... I have never sat through the entire scene).

Deliverance plays out like classic literature. There is man vs nature (the men and their canoe trip), there is man vs machine (the men talk about the city, work, etc), and there is man vs man (the men battle their true natures and the true nature of other men). What does it mean to be male? Or, for that matter, what does it mean to be savage? To be an animal? I say 'what does it mean to be male' because this film is focused on the roles of these men (all four play a very stereotyped role: the adventurer, the artist, the lazy man, the education man). One could very easily watch a film like I Spit on Your Grave and ask 'what does it mean to be a female?' The point is, what is inside us... how far can we be pushed... and how do we deal with our responses?

A very revealing scene in the film shows all four men on their hands and knees. They are grunting and growling and clawing at the earth. They are digging a hole for a body. I have never seen humans portrayed as animals so perfectly as in this scene. And, to me, it is so obvious the purpose of this scene. But, not in a too obvious or cliched way.

At times, I was scared. Then, confused. Was I watching a horror film? An adventure film? There are many labels one could give this film. I was surprised by the depth and delivery of the film. All these years I've turned my nose up at it because it stars Burt Reynolds and is so often joked about. But, this is no laughing matter.

The film was made in the early '70s. There are certain effects that are out of date. Out of place. I even thought, at one point, 'this was acceptable back then?' But, this happens few and far between. These moments in no way disrupt the film. In fact, whenever going into an older movie, one must understand there will be differences in what we've come to expect from our movies and what was expected.

A-

Broadcast News (James L Brooks) - 1987

Today, the Criterion Collection released their edition of Brooks' Broadcast News. When I first read press of the release of this film, I was a bit confused by the collection adding a film that sounded so "rom-com" (romantic comedy). I am a fan of the cast though- Holly Hunter (in anything), Albert Brooks (in Mother), and William Hurt (in The Big Chill). Then, I looked into the filmography of Brooks: writer for the tv series' The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Taxi, and The Simpsons, director/writer of Terms of Endearment. I had never seen Terms of Endearment (although, after viewing Broadcast News I did finally see the film), but knew the film was praised by many. I decided I may have been too quick to judge Broadcast News.

The film follows a news correspondent (Brooks), a news producer (Hunter), and a news broadcaster (Hurt). Hunter and Brooks have been working together for years. They're dedicated to their jobs- too dedicated. They lack a focus in their personal life because they believe there is something to be said for their careers. Hurt comes to the scene as a new broadcaster. Hurt reveals to Hunter that he doesn't always understand the news he is delivering. He admits there is a disconnect between the reality and the words. Hunter is against this type of reporting. She is shown giving a lecture on the evils of news becoming a celebrity obsessed tool (how ahead of its time seeing how much news revolves around celebrities these days).

Of course, in films like these, there has to be "the issue." In this case, Brooks likes Hunter. Hunter admires Brooks. Hunter grows to like Hurt. Hurt immediately like Hunter. Hurt and Brooks can't stand each other. Or, more honestly, Brooks hates Hurt. Hurt stands for all those guys who beat him up in high school. All those beautiful people who continue to stomp all over his goals. It sounds a little cliched. And, at times, there is a bit of cliche. But, honestly, this is the era when the cliches are being written. At the time, this felt pretty fresh I would imagine.

The dialogue is very smart. A fast paced, sometimes acid tone to every sentence. There are some lines in this film that just break your heart. For example, a man says to Hunter "It must be nice to always believe you know better, to always be the smartest person in the room." To which Hunter pauses and responds with "No, it's awful." Hunter's pause reveals so much pain and truth. This may be the best acted film of Hunter's career (and I watch Home for the Holidays once every year).

The film is smart. It feels so fresh because it doesn't treat its audience like idiots. We are meant to understand where these characters come from. None of them are bad people. These are people who are just doing what they know how to do. And doing it the best they can. It is rare that a film captures such complicated relationships in such careful and honest ways.

A

I Looked Alive, Gary Lutz (2003)

To review Gary Lutz, for me, is impossible. Lutz is the master of the short story. But, not in the way O'Henry is considered a master. Not quite in the way Lydia Davis is a master. And, certainly not in the way Joy Williams is a master. All these short story writers are original, creative, intelligent. But, they tend to fall in line with what a reader expects from a short story. A beginning, a middle, an end. Not to say they're formulaic in content, just in style. Gary Lutz has created his own ideas of a short story. They are not to be read by just anyone.

Lutz believes in language. Language comes first in all of his stories. The vocabulary can be overwhelming. Humorous. Over the top. Too difficult to pronounce in your head, or out loud. Lutz is a mad scientist when it comes to language. The sentences are Frankenstein's monster. Pure beauty turned into twisted truths about gender, sex, and the darkest aspect of human connection.

Lutz, in an interview, once said "the body is a novel." This is so true for Lutz's fiction. The characters are all trying to crawl out of their own body and into the body of another. But, the body is where the stories are contained. Where the truths are hiding. Often times dorment for far too long.

Reviewing the content of a Gary Lutz story is what becomes tricky. At times, a character is described for two pages and it is over. Or, the character tries to explain themselves and their actions, but we're never fully certain of what we're trying to be convinced of. Or why it matters. In fact, I don't think the characters care. And, I'm pretty sure Lutz doesn't care. These aren't plot driven stories. These are stories driven by single characters- the words. One will never find a more beautiful description of some of the ugliest things (ie, a pubic hair on a toilet seat) than in a Lutz short story.

I Looked Alive, originally released in 2003, was out of print for many years. When I first was told of Lutz, it was difficult to get my fingers on his fiction. I had to wait a few weeks for the two collections to be sent to the library. But, having discovered a re-print of Lutz's I Looked Alive in 2010 caused me to look through the stories once again. I will certainly be picking up my copy as soon as possible. I'd hate to see these stories go missing for another handful of years.

A

Kaputt, Destroyer (2011)

Last year, Joanna Newsom treated us to the year's best album before February had finished. What a rarity that an album would set the standards for the year's remaining albums. We are so lucky once again. Kaputt, the newest release from Dan Bejar's Destroyer, is the musical equivalent of poetry as sex and music as escape. It isn't surprising that Destroyer would put out such a great album, but it is shocking the album would be this incredible.

I first discovered Destroyer at The New Pornographer's concert as they toured Twin Cinema. Destroyer was the opening band. At that time, I knew nothing of Destroyer. I knew the lead singer was one of the singers in The New Pornographers, but nothing beyond that. During the entire Destroyer performance, Bejar held a bright spot light that he used to blind the audience. I never understood the expression. I found myself more annoyed than entertained. Then, during The New Pornographer's set, Bejar would come and go from the stage. He fancied himself quite the rock star. He would sing his song and leave the stage. Somehow, behavior I would usually find appalling made me seek out some information on Bejar. I was lucky to do my searching around the time Destroyer's Rubies was released in 2006. Destroyer's Rubies is a perfect album along the lines of Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan. Not quite a sound for everyone, but poetry set to music.

Dan Bejar isn't one to create songs that you always sing along to. In fact, Bejar can be wordy, long winded, and a bit complex. A strange mix of formal poetry and spoken word. Think Joanna Newsom's lengthy songs and Bob Dylan's voice and style. Bejar warns the listener, on 'Blue Eyes:' "I write poetry for myself." This statement was very true in the past. But, this is quite possibly the first Destroyer album where one will find themselves singing along to lines after only a handful of listens.

Bejar uses the sounds of the late 70s and early 80s on this album. Then mixes a bit of the early 90s throughout. This album isn't meant to sound out of place or comedic. Bejar isn't testing his audience with use of the trumpets and saxophones. With the hushed sounds of the female voice one might expect to experience on a Joni Mitchell album. Instead, Bejar has never been more serious. This is an album paying homage to all the albums Bejar must have loved throughout the years. Bejar set out to make the first Destroyer pop album. I am not suggesting he was fully successful. This album will never be embraced by the masses. It won't be heard on top hit radio. But, as far as Destroyer is concerned, this is very clearly the pop album.

'Suicide Demo for Kara Walker' is a great art piece. Anyone familiar with Kara Walker would immediately recognize the words and phrases used throughout the song. Walker uses very disturbing, in your face images to make one confront racism of the past, present, future, and in yourself. Once, walking through a Walker exhibit, I heard a mid-20s white woman gasp "why does she feel the need to be so over the top about the whole thing?" It seems the exact response Walker would have loved. And, Walker gets to speak to another audience through this song. These lyrics aren't the lyrics of Bejar. Instead, Bejar and Walker worked together on the lyrics. While one could imagine it being a stream of conscious song matching the images Bejar saw while walking through a Walker exhibit, instead Walker created a cut and paste lyric sheet.

It would be impossible to pick a favorite line from the album. There are so many funny moments ("he doesn't see why Mary Jane from down the lane went insane"), moments of honesty ("chasing cocaine through the back rooms of the world all night"), and lyrics of poetry and pain ("a savage night at the opera, another savage night at the club. Let's face it, old souls like us are being born to die").

One could make complaints about the albums dated sounds, or the too complicated and rambling lyrics. One could find irritation in Bejar's nasal delivery of the songs. But, one would be wasting their time on the criticism. The chance of any album this year being as ambitious and fully realized is pretty slim.

A+

Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown: The Musical (Belasco Theater)

It has been almost a month since I saw the musical production of Almodovar's film Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. The musical has so much happening, I still don't know where to start. Hearing the film was going to be turned into a musical made me ask "how?" And, after seeing the production, I still have to ask "how?" The film is so busy and silly, I couldn't imagine a cast pulling off the jokes and the charm of Almodovar's film. To be honest, they don't pull it off. They kind of create their own manic experience and interpretation of the film. Had I never seen the film, I may have enjoyed the musical more. But, knowing Almodovar's style, I could only be a little disappointed. The directors seemed uncertain of how far to push the camp of the original. Just when it feels like they're pushing it too far, they try and make a serious moment out of the campiness.

Patti LuPone isn't pushed far enough in this production. LuPone's character, Lucia, seems a little too acted. The craziness and desperation of the original character is kind of lost. The audience ends up a little confused at the woman's situation. Without the film as background, one is expected to connect a lot of dots on their own. There are two highlights for LuPone, though. At the end of the first act, LuPone and the rest of the female characters are pulled up on ropes and dance around, twirl around, spin around, a few feet off the ground as they sing 'On the Verge.' It is really the guttiest moment of the show. The only time the show feels it reaches the zaniness of the film. LuPone's "big" moment arrives mid-way through the second act during her number 'Invisible.' 'Invisible' ends up being the only song that stuck in my head after the show ended.

Sherie Rene Scott is a mess in the production. Her acting comes and goes. Her campiness is taken too seriously. Her accent ranges from too heavy to non-existent. Scott has a beautiful voice (see The Last Five Years), but she is going for slapstick here and she is lost in her inability to create a complete character.

Laura Benanti was the scene stealer throughout. She played the dumb model to perfection. Never once out of character- when singing, dancing, acting, or running around. At times, the character was more caricature than personality, but that is alright for this character. Benanti's Candela is only meant as a comedic presence. Benanti outshines LuPone with the humorous 'Model Behavior' during the first act.

The set is pretty basic. The colors not quite bright enough. But a constantly moving foreground and background keeps the audience watching. This is the closest the stage shows comes to the film. Almodovar loves his bright colors and his demand of you to constantly be watching. The back of the stage always has projected images moving left to right, up and down. Never really distracting, but not always necessary. And, at times, used more than needed.

When I heard the show was closing after only a 2 month run, I was sad to think a soundtrack would never be released. But, after doing a little bit of searching, I discovered there is a recording planned for the middle of Spring. Women on the Verge... is certainly not the greatest musical experience. But, it is something fun and unique. The script and songs need a little bit of work. A few characters need to be trimmed down (Brian Stokes Mitchell's Ivan, mostly). I would have recommended the show to those who are fans of the film and interested in seeing a musical in the early stages of its career.

C+

Kiss Each Other Clean, Iron & Wine (2011)

Kiss Each Other Clean marks Iron & Wine's 3rd full length release since the success of 2004's Our Endless Numbered Days. I was in my final year of college when Our Endless Numbered Days was released. I was at the point in my music interests that fell between the indie music I preferred and the the folk music of my past. Iron & Wine was the perfect hybrid. The music was mostly mellow folk and the lyrics fit into a very contemporary world. A hippie's view of love and nature. I was smitten. To this day I still find tracks on the album to be flawless. Sadly, Iron & Wine never matched this album. A year after Our Endless Numbered Days, the EP Woman King was released. The title track from the album is one of Iron & Wine's greatest songs, but that seemed to be the last of anything to get excited about from Iron & Wine.

Yet, I still found myself anticipating the release of Kiss Each Other Clean. And, I'm not going to lie, I kind of think the album title is disgusting. I can understand the loving nature of the title, but then I just start to think too much into the title. And I kind of gag. But, this really has nothing to do with the album review.

The first two tracks start out a bit disappointing. The opener, 'Walking Far From Home', is alright. It's a little bit distorted. A little bit bland. The second track, 'Me and Lazarus', just isn't interesting. These songs want to be Iron & Wine songs with a more upbeat sound. In fact, it sounds like Samuel Beam is trying to create an album that sounds dated. Although, I'm not sure how far back he's trying to date himself. 80s? 90s? If you want a new album with a perfect throwback to sounds of the past, check out Destroyer's Kaputt (review coming soon).

The only successful old school throwback is on the albums third track, 'Tree By the River.' The song starts out a little lame. A chorus of high pitched 'la' (or something similar). But, quickly the song picks up. Before I knew it, I thought I had turned on a Carly Simon album. It isn't spot on Carly Simon, but there is enough present to remind me of her. At first, I thought maybe one of Joni Mitchell's 1980's songs, but realized it was Ms. Simon. Even Beams voice comes close to Simon's. 'Tree By the River' is the albums second best song.

The albums greatest song, and easily added to the list of my favorite Iron & Wine tracks, is 'Rabbit Will Run.' It has the fast paced vocals and the bouncing music of 'Woman King.' Maybe it isn't fair to love a track because it reminds me so much of another track. It is the only track on the album to stand out. Lyrically, the song paints quite interesting images. If Beam could have focused his album, I like to imagine more of the tracks could have matched this one.

'Big Burned Hand' is Iron & Wine meets Blues Traveler meets Dave Matthews Band. And I don't mean any of this in a good way. It made me wonder, when did Iron & Wine become the band for the frat guys? All those frat houses, in between hazing ceremonies, get together, share a beer, and show their soft side while drunkenly singing along to Iron & Wine? Hey, it's a thing. DMB has survived off of this crowd for years. I hope Mr. Beam can be successful in this crowd.

The closing track, 'Your Fake Name is Good Enough for Me,' is as decent a closing track as one could expect for this album. The song starts out pretty fast, but a little bit stripped down. Quickly it picks up instruments. More and more find themselves in the song. Not all of these instruments work, but I like the messy sound they all create. It is nice to see Beam move away from the cleanliness of what is expected. As the the song comes to an end, it really all feels like waves crashing together. And, then the lyric "we will become. Become a disco ball." So out of place on an Iron & Wine album. But, I love it.

Certainly not a great Iron & Wine album. But, with a few new songs to add to the Iron & Wine favorites, it serves a purpose as something new.

C+