The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

 Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin):  Nobody does westerns anymore.

John Chambers (John Goodman):  It's ancient Troy.

Siegel:  If it's got horses in it, it's a western.

--from the movie Argo, 2012

Last week, I wrote about musicals and how, even though I'm a fan, I can't just pop any musical into my blu-ray player and enjoy it.  With one or two exceptions, I typically have to be in the right frame of mind to watch one.

When I think about it, there's really only one other genre of film that I have to be in the right mood for--and that is the western.  I've tried to understand why.  Maybe it's the background which always seems so stark and empty, yet at the same time really bright.  It's like a prerequisite for a western that it must be set in some bleak, uninhabited area with lots of wide, open spaces and dirt.  Maybe there's a small town on a dirt road with a dry goods store, a saloon, and a whorehouse a couple of miles from where the protagonist lives on a farm or a ranch.  Normally, this sort of thing doesn't do anything for me.

Again, I have to reiterate that I do really like westerns.  If nothing else, I deeply admire it as a distinctly American art form.  I just have to be in the right mood to watch one.  I've found that the best time to watch them is on a Sunday morning or early Sunday afternoon.  I find that time of day/week seems to put me in the right mood for a western.  (This is also an ideal time for epics, war films, and anything starring Steve McQueen.)

I should clarify that there are two exceptions--I can watch Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and Blazing Saddles anytime without having to be in the right mood for a western.  You can read my thoughts on Saddles here.

When discussing westerns, two actors immediately spring to mind--John Wayne and Clint Eastwood.  Of the two, I'm a bigger fan of Eastwood, probably because he clearly appreciates the craft of filmmaking.  He doesn't just act, he also produces, directs, and in the last couple of decades has even composed his own scores.  In fact, Warner Brothers even named one of their scoring stages after him.

I sat down to watch this film recently, partially because it's one of my favourite Eastwood films--as I understand it, it's also one he's especially proud of--but also because it's celebrating its 50th anniversary this year and I'm kind of a dork about things like that.  I was even kind of in a western mood.  I hadn't watched it in over a decade and I had forgotten how good it really was.

In the film, Eastwood plays a simple Missouri farmer whose wife and son are murdered in front of him by renegade Union soldiers during the Civil War.  He then joins a group hellbent on vengeance.  After the Confederacy surrenders, his group is offered amnesty, but he refuses to join them.  He watches from a distance as they are double-crossed and executed.

Assuming correctly that they'll be coming for him, he goes on the run trying to help one member of his group (played by Sam Bottoms) who was wounded trying to escape the slaughter.  Along the way, he reluctantly picks up stragglers--a couple of Native Americans, some settlers from Kansas, and even a stray dog.  They ultimately band together to protect each other from bounty hunters and hostile Union soldiers.

Eastwood not only acted, but he also produced and directed the film.  Based on the novel Gone To Texas by Forrest Carter (you can Google him if you're so inclined), the film co-stars Chief Dan George, Sondra Locke, Geraldine Keams, Paula Trueman, John Vernon, Bill McKinney, and Will Sampson.  This week, please enjoy The Outlaw Josey Wales.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that governments don't live together--people live together.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

Based on a recent experience, I wanted to continue my lifelong exploration of music--really pop culture in general--as a religion and spiritual practice.

Last Friday, after I got off work, I decided I needed to look for some cheap CDs, so I took a trip to Orbit Music, a local record store in my area.  They deal primarily in used merchandise, although they do have a lot of new vinyl.  They also sell a lot of posters and incense and various other accoutrements that gives the place a kind of '60s head shop vibe, which I strangely appreciate.  It reminds me of a couple of stores I used to frequent in high school that, sadly, no longer exist.

After seriously debating whether or not I could afford special "Record Store Day" releases by John Prine and The New York Dolls, I grabbed a used Judy Collins record that I didn't remember my mother having when I was a kid and started to browse the CDs.

I went into the store with a list of titles that I feel I should acquire.  Strangely enough, I found none of them.  But, as you might have guessed, I found a number of other things that I didn't even realize I should have, including two John Hiatt albums, a collection of 1950s rockabilly (in spite of the fact that it didn't include anything by Wanda Jackson), and Double Fantasy by John and Yoko, which I had bought on vinyl some years back and quite enjoyed.

One album in particular caught my attention.  It was a Brandi Carlile CD, shrink-wrapped and in one of those anti-theft lock boxes.  In the back of my mind, I want to say my sister had recommended it to me.  I've been a fan of Carlile's for many years, but for some reason, I never got around to checking out this particular album.  The price was under ten bucks, so I thought--what the hell?

When I got home, I immediately began the arduous ritual of uploading the CDs to my iTunes library and potentially my phone/jukebox later on.  This involves a thorough examination of liner notes, assuming there are any.  (Songwriters are important, people!  Songs don't just materialize out of thin air!  Give credit where credit is due!  I need first and last names--don't just give me last names or last names with first initials and make me Google everything!)

I had presumed, apparently erroneously, that the Brandi Carlile CD was new based on the shrink wrap and lock box.  When I removed the wrapper and opened it up, I found a newspaper article tucked inside along with the booklet of lyrics and notes.  Even more impressive was the fact that it appeared to be hand-signed by Ms. Carlile herself!  I even did a Google image search of "Brandi Carlile signature" to compare.  If it's not her signature, it's a really good forgery!

I know I have a tendency to romanticize physical media and the joy of shopping for music in a brick-and-mortar establishment.  I know it tends to drive my family and friends nuts sometimes.  But this is why I do it.  You never know what you might find in an actual record store.  When you stream music, you already tend to know what you want--or some algorithm picks it out for you, based on what you've previously played.  There's no algorithm in the record store--or, if there is, I've certainly done my best to keep it guessing over the years.  There's more of an opportunity for surprise (although, apparently no Edwyn Collins).  Honestly, the whole experience was not just better, but fulfilling on an emotional and, dare I say, spiritual level.

I read somewhere once that a vinyl record is a hand-written love letter.  A digital download is a text.  Talk about romanticizing!  But I agree with it wholeheartedly.  If nothing else, you can't autograph a digital download.  (I guess that makes a CD a typewritten love letter?  Eh... I'm cool with that.)

Consequently, this week, please enjoy one of my new favourite albums, Brandi Carlile's 2015 release The Firewatcher's Daughter.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

I've found that, to the best of my knowledge, there really isn't a genre of movie I don't like or, at the very least, appreciate to some degree.  There are some genres that I enjoy with more frequency than others.  I'm typically drawn to comedies or action films.  But I also like dramas, romantic movies, classics, foreign films, silent movies, science fiction, and period pieces.

There are two types of films that even though I enjoy and have a deep admiration for them, I have to be in the right mood to watch them.  I thought I'd focus on these over the next couple of weeks.

This week, I wanted to focus on the musical.  I really love the idea of people randomly bursting into song for no apparent reason, often accompanied by dancing.  It doesn't happen in real life, as much as I occasionally try--just to keep those around me on their toes.  But because of that whole suspension of disbelief thing, I don't find myself watching them as often as I might watch... let's say a 007 thriller.  With the possible exception of The Blues Brothers (which most people don't actually consider to be a musical anyway), as I said, I have to be in the right mood.

During Hollywood's "Golden Age," musicals were a lot more common than they are today.  So many performers at that time were not just good actors, but they could sing and dance as well.  Today, when a musical comes along, the actors make a point of doing their own singing and dancing often going through months of rigorous training to pull it off and make us say things like, "Wow!  I didn't know Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone could sing and dance!"  (Gosling also learned how to play the piano for La La Land, but who's keeping track?)

I've also noticed over the last couple of decades, a lot of non-musical films being adapted into stage musicals, frequently on Broadway--some of them later adapted again into musical movies.  As much as I enjoyed the movie Legally Blonde, did we really need a musical adaptation of it?  I think the one that finally put me over the edge was Evil Dead: The Musical.  (And no, I'm not making that up!)

This got me thinking about Hollywood movies that should be turned into musicals.  Can you imagine Lethal Weapon: The Musical?  I can just picture Sgt. Roger Murtaugh tap dancing across the stage singing "I'm Too Old For This Shit" rather than just muttering it in exhaustion under his breath.  Or a musical version of The Godfather in which Don Vito Corleone dramatically--even operatically--belts out, "I'm Gonna Make Him an Offer He Can't Refuse."

I actually started writing a couple such songs.  Somewhere--and I wish I knew where--I have lyrics to a potentially country/cowboy ballad titled "The Dude Abides" from The Big Lebowski: The Musical (which also features that other showstopper, "Nobody Fucks With the Jesus!").  I've got about three verses, but it needs more--at least a bridge.

The other one I've started writing is a piece called "He Doesn't Act Like a Scientist (He's More Like a Game Show Host)" from Ghostbusters: The Musical.  This is Dana Barrett's big number that she would sing after Peter Venkman checks her out--I mean... ahem... checks out her apartment.  The real key is the casting of Dana--not only would the person have to be able to act and sing and potentially dance, but also she would have to be able to play the cello.  Again, the song needs a lot more than what I've written so far.

For some reason, I found myself in something of a musical mood last week and decided to watch this week's film, which I hadn't seen in at least 20 years.  In hindsight, what made it stand out to me is that it is entirely... well, musical.  Most musicals have a song and dance number and then the characters actually talk to each other, providing exposition and advancing the plot until it's time to sing and dance again.  That was not the case with this week's film.  Everything is sung--even by people you would not expect to hear singing.

The movie was based on Pete Townshend's groundbreaking "rock opera" which The Who had released as their fourth album in 1969.  In 1975, director Ken Russell adapted it into a movie.  In the story, Tommy Walker (played here by The Who's vocalist Roger Daltrey) experiences a major trauma at a very young age which causes him to shut down becoming "deaf, dumb, and blind."   Tommy eventually learns the fine art of playing pinball which awakens him allowing him to essentially become a religious cult leader.

The film stars Ann-Margret as Tommy's mother, Oliver Reed as her lover, Elton John as the Pinball Wizard, Eric Clapton as the Preacher, Who drummer Keith Moon as Uncle Ernie, Paul Nicholas as Cousin Kevin, Jack Nicholson as the Doctor, and Tina Turner as the Acid Queen and includes music from The Who.

Pete Townshend received an Oscar nomination for Best Original Song Score and/or Adaptation.  Ann-Margret also received a Best Leading Actress nomination (and won a Golden Globe) for her performance as Tommy's mother and, according to imdb.com, she is "the only actress ever Oscar-nominated in the lead category for a performance which is (save for one single word) entirely sung."  This week, please enjoy Tommy.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill 

 

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

If you really want to celebrate something, make it stand apart.

I've noticed that we tend to denote the passage of time, especially major anniversaries, in increments of five or ten.  In the last couple of months, we celebrated the 250th anniversary of the birth of the U.S. and somberly commemorated the 25th anniversary of 9/11.  This year also marks the 85th anniversary of Pearl Harbor, the 175th anniversary of the founding of the New York Times, as well as anniversaries divisible by five of the release of various albums, films and television programs--I've even highlighted a few of them in these weekly "sermons."

Admittedly, this does make it easier to keep track of time (especially when estimating)--if you're into that sort of thing, I don't judge.  Although, I do find it comical that, in spite of this, we--at least we Americans--still refuse to embrace metric.  Again--not judging.  I'm just as guilty as any American.

I always appreciate it when anniversaries are observed that stand out because they aren't divisible by five and/or ten.  I recently saw a video on Facebook advertising an upcoming re-issue of a classic album.  This week's album is celebrating its 49th anniversary with a new edition featuring unreleased music and I couldn't be more pleased.

If nothing else, it prompted me to listen to the album again.  I had almost forgotten how good it is.  The artist's music--especially his early recordings--puts me in a weird state of mind and being.  I'd call it "transportative," but I've only really been listening to him for about 25 years.  It's not like I grew up listening to him.  Yet, somehow, the albums of that era make me feel like I'm in that era again--even if I don't remember hearing it at the time.

I first became familiar with him because of his collaboration on a Paul McCartney album in 1989.  But it was that album (Flowers in the Dirt) that inspired me to check out more of his work.  In the years since, I've grown to appreciate his ability to go from classical to country to punk rock so effortlessly.  If nothing else, it's given me a greater appreciation of my own eclectic tastes.  So this week, in honour of its 49th anniversary, please enjoy Elvis Costello's 1977 debut album My Aim Is True. 

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week! (One From the Vault!)

Today is the anniversary of a key night in my life.  I posted the following to Facebook on this day in 2020 describing it in great detail.  In 2002, former Rolling Stones bassist Bill Wyman published a book titled Rolling With the Stones.  A couple years ago, I took a couple of pictures of page 489 which I've included at the end. 

 

Forgive me but this week's album is a bit on the nostalgic and sentimental side. It was on this day in 1989 that I attended my first rock concert. I was fifteen years old and it's one of those father/son moments that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

 

My dad and I, along with some friends from our church, went to the Rolling Stones concert at Cardinal Stadium in Louisville, Kentucky. That's right--a church group attended a Stones concert. It sounds like the setup to a bad joke. We may as well have walked into a bar.

 

It was a big deal. Many people had written off the Stones as being a bit past their prime. After 25 years, the band had seemed to fall apart over egos and sometimes rather public spats between Mick Jagger and Keith Richards that still continue to this day. It was their first tour in seven years (it had been eight since they had toured the U.S.). In hindsight, I find it interesting that everyone seemed to harp on their ages. Today, in 2020, jokes about the Rolling Stones being old... are... well, old.

 

Before the show, we were waiting for the opening act (Living Colour) to take the stage. I smelled something in the air that smelled to me like a cross between cigarette smoke and manure. Dad looked at me and said, "Do you smell that?" I nodded and asked what it was. He said, "That's grass. Don't inhale. Let me do that." It was the first time I ever smelled marijuana. I didn't understand how anyone could smoke something that smelled like that. Consequently, I've never tried it myself.

 

I wasn't that impressed by Living Colour. The most exciting moment of their performance for me was when the lead singer laid down on the stage and everyone in the band took a running leap over him. In fact, I recently checked out the album they released at that time ("Vivid") and it still doesn't do anything for me.

 

The sun finally went down over Louisville. There was a buzz among the crowd and you could tell that it was time for the main event. We could hear some pre-recorded introductory music. Then a wall of flames shot into the sky and when it disappeared there on the stage was my favourite band tearing into their hit "Start Me Up." A perfect way to open a show.

 

The highlight of the evening for me was when they did my theme song, "You Can't Always Get What You Want." Mick Jagger just sang, "You can't..." and 35,000 people sang back the rest of the line. It was the first time I ever felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself.

 

The one person I felt bad for was Keith Richards. At one point, Mick took a break and Keith sang a couple of songs. It was the only time during the whole show that the audience sat down in their seats. It was sad really. I actually think Keith is a better singer than Mick.

 

As a fifteen-year-old kid, I didn't have a lot of money for souvenirs. In fact, I had no money for souvenirs. Consequently, I still have my ticket stubs (not that you can read them anymore), the boxes from my first White Castle sliders that I ate after the show, and my shoelaces that got soaked in beer which are now tied around a small box of trinkets and keepsakes.

 

My sister told me a while back that Dad once said that he had difficulty relating to me. I always knew he loved me, but I wasn't a lot like him. We didn't share a lot of common interests other than chess. He enjoyed the outdoors and hunting and fishing--things I find boring. I tried to get into them, but just couldn't. However, once I reached adolescence, we managed to connect on music and movies (and even baseball when I got into my twenties and thirties). When people tell me (and they always do) what a cool father I had, all I can say is that when I was fifteen, I was out until two in the morning on a school night with my dad at a rock concert. You don't get much cooler than that.

 

So this week, please enjoy the Stones landmark album behind which they toured, 1989's Steel Wheels.

 

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

 

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll,

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

 

 

 

Page 489 of Bill Wyman's 2002 book Rolling With the Stones 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

If you've already checked out this week's featured album, you probably noticed that I submitted an album by someone who was primarily known as an actor.  And even though it's an obvious choice, this week's film starred someone who was primarily known as a singer.

Tim Curry's death was a blow to many.  Admittedly, he had not been doing well for some time, so it wasn't wholly unexpected.  But, at the same time, I think it hurt that much more because it came a day after losing musician, actress, philanthropist, and national treasure Dolly Parton.

I've always admired the hell out of Dolly Parton, particularly for her philanthropic work, particularly when it came to children's literacy.  And while she made headlines for her substantial charitable donations, I get the impression that there was so much more she did behind the scenes--anonymously--that we'll never know about and that makes me admire her even more.

As a person, she never ceased to put a smile on my face.  Whenever I saw an interview with her, she would always crack a joke or three, often at her own expense, famously pointing out that it cost a lot of money to make her look that cheap.  It was hard not to love her.

I always appreciated her humility.  Initially, she turned down induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame because she felt that she was primarily a country artist.  I've always felt that anyone who turns down an honour because they genuinely feel they're not worthy of it is someone to be respected.  (SPOILER ALERT:  She "paid her dues" and recorded a rock album with a lot of rock based special guests and then agreed to be inducted.)

In spite of that, I must confess, it's only been in the last ten years or so that I've been able to appreciate her work as a musician.  I know I'm in the minority, but I never particularly cared for her voice.  I don't know what it was exactly--there were plenty of singers who had similar qualities to their voices and I didn't dislike them!  As I said, it has grown on me in recent years, and I can appreciate it a lot more than I used to.

But I tended to enjoy her acting work in such films as The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas and Steel Magnolias as well as the occasional television appearance, usually playing herself.  (If you've never seen Seth MacFarlane's sci-fi/comedy "The Orville," I can't recommend it highly enough--even though it takes place centuries in the future, she actually appeared in one episode of the third season as herself--long story, you kind of have to see it.)

Like I said, this week's film choice is an obvious one, but when one thinks of Dolly Parton as an actress, this is usually the first film that gets mentioned--no doubt because it was actually her first film.  Co-star Jane Fonda actually picked her to play the role of Doralee Rhodes.  In addition to playing Doralee, she also wrote the title song to the film, receiving her first of two Oscar nominations for Best Original Song in a Motion Picture.

In the film, Parton, Fonda, and Lily Tomlin play office co-workers who have had it with their "sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot" of a boss (played as only Dabney Coleman could play him).  Through an extraordinarily comic turn of events that involves not just undermining his authority, but also accidental poisoning, kidnapping, and humiliation, they get to live out everyone's fantasy of getting even with a bad boss--especially if you were a woman in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

Released in 1980, the film was directed by Colin Higgins who also co-wrote the film with Patricia Resnick.  Co-starring Elizabeth Wilson, Lawrence Pressman, Henry Jones, and the great Sterling Hayden, please enjoy 9 to 5.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

One of my favourite things about The New York Times is their obituary section.  I know it sounds kind of morbid, but it's a great way to learn about people.  As an example, I read their obit on Noël Godin just the other day.  I'd never even heard of this guy, but he sounds like someone I would have liked to have known.

As I'm writing this, I'm just finding out about Jon Small, who long time readers might recognize from my post on 23 May of this year.  I also learned a lot about him that I didn't know.  In fact, one of the great things about reading these obituaries is learning things I didn't know about people that I already admired.

During the weeks I was away from writing these, we lost the great Tim Curry.  I was a fan of his work from the time I was a child when I first saw him in the villainous role of Rooster Hannigan in Annie.  (I even discovered we shared a birthday, which utterly delighted me.)  Over the years, I became quite enamoured with his work.  In spite of his penchant for playing villains, which I get the impression he relished, I loved watching him move so seamlessly between comedy, drama, horror, sci-fi, and musicals--and that was just in The Rocky Horror Picture Show!  He even managed to have a side hustle as a voice actor in many animated films and television series aimed at children.

His Times obituary mentioned something that caught me off guard.  Between 1978 and 1981, Curry released three albums.  I don't know why this caught me off guard--between Rocky Horror and Spamalot it's not like I was unaware of his singing capabilities.  I guess I just always associated him with stage musicals instead of more "pop" fare.  This intrigued me--and, frankly, continues to do so--so, naturally, I did further research.

The albums featured covers of songs by the likes of Joni Mitchell, Irving Berlin, John Sebastian, The Beatles, Squeeze, Burt Bacharach/Hal David, and Screamin' Jay Hawkins.  Starting with his second album, Curry began recording his own compositions, co-writing six of the album's original nine songs, the bulk of them with either guitarist Dick Wagner (who had previously worked with Lou Reed and Alice Coooper) or famed composer Michael Kamen who also played keyboards and oboe on the album.  That formula, for lack of a better word, continued on his third and final album.

This week, primarily because I don't remember anyone else mentioning it in all the TV news reports I saw, I thought I would submit Tim Curry's second and--peaking at #53 on Billboard's Top 200 Album chart--most commercially successful album.  Originally released in 1978, the album featured, in addition to Wagner and Kamen, legendary musicians such as David Sanborn on the saxophone and Motown bassist Bob Babbitt.  Please enjoy Fearless (the expanded edition featuring "single edits" of certain songs).  God knows I did.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that it's not easy having a good time.  Even smiling makes my face ache.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill