JAMEY JOHNSON’S “THE GUITAR SONG”

  √ BOB CERTIFIED (with reservations)

   Jamey Johnson had a line on his last album that captured the spirit of the 1970s’ outlaw movement in country music better than anything since Willie and Waylon at their peak—the one about “the high cost of livin’ ain’t nothin’ like the cost of livin’ high.” Even if the other songs on the album were uneven, that line alone—when coupled with a gritty, don’t-mess-with-me-buddy vocal style—made Johnson seem more interesting than almost every other male country arrival in years. Now, he returns with an ambitious follow-up that you have to admire for its audacity. At a time when the record business is in chaos, Johnson releases a double album, which is a clever way to stand apart from the crowd and make everyone in the country music world take notice. In all the critical enthusiasm over Johnson, however, it is important to note that this double album suffers from the same weakness as almost every double album—it would have been much stronger as a single disc. For all his instincts as a writer, he is still hit-and-miss. There’s another classic line in the opening song “It might be lonely at the top, but it’s a bitch at the bottom.” Only this time, Johnson didn’t write it. (Credit for the 1986 tune goes to Don Cook, the late Keith Whitley and Chick Raines).  Johnson did co-write (with Vicky McGehee and Bill Anderson) the killer title track and a few other winners: “That’s Why I Write the Songs” (with Chris DuBois and Ashley Gorley), the gospel-minded “I Remember You” (with Shane Minor) and “My Way to You” (with Charlie Midnight), but that’s far short of a double album’s worth. Thankfully, Johnson also has a good ear for cover songs so he is able to score points for his renditions of such tunes as Mel Tillis’ “Mental Revenge” (a hit in the 1960s for Waylon) and Kris Kristofferson’s “For the Good Times.”  In the mostly bland world of contemporary country music, you’ve got to root (hard) for Johnson, but he needs to work much harder on his songwriting before he can live up to the widespread acclaim. If he wants more covers, he might start with the catalogs of John Prine, Billy Joe Shaver, Guy Clark, Mickey Newbury and, of course, Kristofferson. He might also spend some time with a few classic John Anderson albums.

TAKERS

A cliché (or two) per minute.  Avoid!

    Let me say right off the bat that this cops and robbers action movie was so dull and cliché-riddled that I couldn’t make it to the end. Aside from that warning to avoid the whole thing, let me pass along a couple of things about the movie and the trailer that struck me as strange. First, why isn’t the star of the movie (Matt Damon) even shown in the trailer? And second, rapper TI has a cool, seductive charisma that steals the trailer, but in the film itself he is so bland he isn’t even interesting for a single frame. How is that possible? Just another mystery of show-biz I guess.

   MESRINE: Killer Instinct (Part 1)

          √ Bob Certified

   MESRINE: Public Enemy No. 1 (Part 2)

          Not as compelling, but you’ll welcome more of Vincent Cassel.

         Vincent Cassel, who stars in this two-part film based on the life of a celebrated French gangster named Jacques Mesrine, turns in the kind of electrifying performance that reminds you of a summit meeting between Belmondo (it’s a French film after all) and Mitchum. Director Jean-Francois Richet wisely keeps our attention on Cassel as he becomes seduced by the criminal life in Paris (and elsewhere) in Part 1 and then becomes a prisoner of his own ego in Part 2. Because we don’t know where his story is going to lead us, the opening journey is more successful than the conclusion, which is mostly consumed by him being hunted and caught by the police, then breaking out of prison and being hunted again. The trouble is “Killer Instinct” is so seductive that it’s hard to not want to follow the story to the end in Part 2. Even if “Public Enemy No. 1” is a let-down, you’ll never tire of watching Cassel.

 

   SOUL KITCHEN

Lite menu.

After seeing this German film, I can understand why I was having trouble figuring out from the reviews just what it was about. It’s not about much at all—though it’s certainly a feel-good experience. The Soul Kitchen is a restaurant (as in soul music, the owner explains, though the specialty isn’t catfish and collard greens). A lot goes on in the place, but little of it requires close attention. The film is mostly about the importance of remaining hopeful even when almost everything around you is falling apart. Within its limits, it’s nicely done.

MOVIES:

THE SWITCH

  Chemistry is everything.

  This is a pretty slight romantic comedy—except for the chemistry between two of the characters. I’m not talking about the always winning Jason Bateman and the rarely more than serviceable Jennifer Aniston. What keeps the film’s head above water is the touching relationship between Bateman and 6-year-old Thomas Robinson.  It’s their film from start to finish and that’s enough to make The Switch worth seeing, at least on an airplane or Netflix.

 

INCEPTION

√ Bob Certified

   Christopher Nolan, whose past triumphs include “The Dark Knight” and “Memento,” adds to his reputation as one of our most valuable and original filmmakers in years. Just as you can find new delights in the opening bank sequence of “The Dark Knight” even if you’re seen it two dozen times, there are moments in this frequently brilliant science-fiction tale that will remain forever fascinating. The knock is that it is sometimes baffling, but many of the greatest movies, including several of the Fellini masterpieces, were at times baffling.  What works is the way Nolan, drawing yet another marvelous performance from Leonardo DiCaprio, takes your imagination on a magic carpet ride, dazzling you with the screen wonders, while slowly making you wonder about the underlying issue involved—mind control. The film is a frightening reminder of what may be ahead.

 

SCOTT PILGRIM VS. THE WORLD

√ Bob Certified

   Edgar Wright knows how to make witty, entertaining movies that also tell us more about ourselves than you’d think from the lighthearted way he approaches his subjects. Following up the gems “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz,” the director gives us a film that is very much for the young at heart. The imagery comes from comic books, rock ‘n’ roll, video games and cult movies. Not a bad combination. It’s a simple tale: nerdy guy wants a girl who is clearly out of his league, but he doesn’t let that stop him. He even assumes superhero skills in fighting to win her affection. It’s a witty, sweet, smart and entertaining fun zone ride. None of it really makes sense, but when does young love ever make sense?

 

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ALICE CREED

   Things start off great, but….

   The opening scenes in this film debut by British director J. Blakeson match the documentary-style set-up of an ambitious criminal plot that made Stanley Kubrick’s “The Killing” such a winning work. We see a couple of guys on a shopping spree and gradually realize they are blue collar criminals (former jailbirds in fact) buying equipment needed to turn an apartment bedroom into a cell for a female hostage. But once the scene is set, the psychological drama embarks on such a series of twists and turns that it quickly loses its grip on you. Some of the surprises do add to the tension, but the real lesson here is a simple one: not every plot twist is guaranteed to work.

 

 

ALBUMS:

ARCADE FIRE’S “THE SUBURBS”
√ Bob Certified

     This is the third Arcade Fire album and it’s the third time the Montreal band has shown us that it is still possible to make rock ‘n’ roll music that is bold, heartfelt, illuminating and inspirational even in an age when the commercial pulse of pop music has been kidnapped by spectacle and American Idol. At a time when thousands of young rock bands seem to have given up on trying to dominate the cultural landscape the way groups from the Beatles to U2 once did, the Fire continues to burn with ambition and purpose, making music that is both thrilling sonically and smart lyrically. Where suburban life is a topic that invites cliché and ham-fisted declarations, Win Butler (and cohorts) not only sidesteps the dangers, but challenges the usual rock assumptions about suburban life. In these songs, there is a sense of times wasted, but also lessons learned from the past and even a hint of sweet affection for the memories of home. This is a brilliant album that challenges your notions about where you’ve been and where you are headed.

Albums:

 The Dead Weather’s “Sea of Cowards”
√ Bob Certified

    Depending on your perspective, “Sea of Cowards” is either the second Dead Weather album or the 10th Jack White studio album. Either way, the collection is a sonic blast in the truest sense of the term. When the foursome unleashed a tenacious blues-rock rush the first time out, it was exhilarating but, in retrospect, a bit tentative—more like an experimental step than a committed one. Here, there is no holding back. There is confidence and authority in every note.

     From the start years ago in Detroit, one of the primary themes in White’s work has been finding emotional balance (and truth) in a fragmented world. One aspect of that balance has dealt with one of rock’s most enduring subjects: sex. In the Stripes, White showed he could be as macho and aggressive as Zeppelin yet also tender enough to display a vulnerable, even feminine side.

        Part of the strength in Dead Weather is that White has found a singer in Alison Mosshart who has an intensity and range so close to his own that their voices are almost interchangeable in several songs, thus enabling him to bring together his masculine and feminine sides in forceful, illuminating ways. It feels all the more urgent because of the torrent of siren-esque blues and rock strains that frame the vocals. Guitarist Dean Fertita and bassist Jack Lawrence serve White’s aims as expertly as the raw, passionate Mosshart.

        It almost doesn’t matter who is singing the line “I love you the most, I do/ When you’re so close to me/ I can smell the gasoline,” because the lines capture the way men and women can both be consumed with incendiary passion. Similarly, there is no separation between the male or female role in “The Difference Between Us,” the most reflective song on the album: “I’m not the way you found me/ I’m neither here nor there/ One day I’m happy and healthy/ Next day I ain’t doing so well.”

     There’s no song here like “Seven Nation Army” to seduce a mass rock audience, but that audience is so splintered these days that it may be impossible, given the current state of the record industry, for anyone to bring it together the way the great musicians once did. What White and his mates in Dead Weather are doing is reminding us that rock at its most powerful is neither conventional nor safe. It is the voice of extremism, fueled with an optimism and faith that music can still touch the heart and stir the imagination—and that albums, not just individual tracks, do matter.

     At times, you get the sense in “Sea of Cowards” that White is intent keeping the flame alive in hopes that the mass rock audience awakens from its slumber. If that audience does resurface, White—with Dead Weather, the Stripes or whatever other reincarnation—will be ready to once again reach out and lead it.