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

What makes a film perfect?  It's kind of hard to say because in the process of making a film any number of things can go wrong--not the least of which is interference by studio executives who think they know what they're doing.  And even if everything goes right, there's no guarantee that the film will find an audience.  But every so often, a movie comes along that becomes so embedded in our culture that you don't even have to have seen it to understand cultural references to it.

I like to think I can look at things objectively as well as subjectively.  As such, I feel compelled to disclose the fact that this is tied with Dr. Strangelove as my all-time favourite movie.  I can't begin to tell you how many times I've seen it, most recently about six hours ago.  Having said that, I also objectively believe it's a perfect film.

 

This has got everything--adventure, excitement, romance, intrigue, gambling, drinking, singing, piano playing, good guys, bad guys, morally questionable guys that you kind of like anyway... all condensed into an incredibly tight 102 minutes.  And after more than 80 years, so many of us are still drawn to this movie.

The film is set in a bar in Morocco run by Rick Blaine, a cynical American expat (played by Humphrey Bogart), at the height of World War II.  The city has become a haven for refugees fleeing Europe to escape the Nazis.  A very high profile refugee named Victor Laszlo (played by Paul Henreid) comes to town accompanied by a woman named Ilsa Lund (the lovely Ingrid Bergman).  I suppose this wouldn't have been such a big deal--apart from the war and all that--if Ilsa hadn't broken Rick's heart as the Nazis were invading Paris.  The Nazis are pissed because Victor escaped from one of their concentration camps and they've been pursuing him ever since.  Rick also has a side bet with Captain Louis Renault, the local prefect of police (played so beautifully by the great Claude Rains), to see if Victor manages to escape.

 

While most people (lovers and haters) cite the star-crossed romance between Rick and Ilsa, I contend that what really makes the film work is the relationship between Rick and Louis.  I believe it to be one of cinema's earliest "bromances," and it delights me every time I watch it.

America had only just entered World War II at the time the film was produced and was one of the first to deal with everything that was going on, particularly in Europe and North Africa.  In fact quite a few members of the supporting cast--most notably Peter Lorre, Conrad Veidt, and S. Z. Sakall--had fled Europe themselves when Hitler rose to power.

The screenplay was written by the Epstein Brothers (Julius and Phillip) and Howard Koch, and based on the unproduced play Everybody Comes to Rick's by Murray Burnett and Joan Allison.  Rounding out the principal cast were Dooley Wilson, Sydney Greenstreet, Madeleine Lebeau, and Leonid Kinskey.  The whole thing was directed by Michael Curtiz, who was best known at Warner Brothers for directing such classic action films as The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk, and Captain Blood.  The film went on to win three Oscars for Best Picture, Best Screenplay, and Best Director.  Since then, it frequently is at or near the top of most critics' "best of" lists.  The American Film Institute ranked it on many of their lists, most notably in their list of the Top 100 American Film Quotes which featured six classic quotes from this film.

So... is this a perfect movie?  Well, I think it is.  Certainly it's stood the test of time... and if not, it's really damn close.  So this week, from 1942, I recommend what many argue to be one of--if not the--greatest movie of all time, Casablanca.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and... well... Here's looking at you, kid.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

 

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

I was listening to a track from this week's album randomly on my my phone a couple of weeks ago.  Something about the song caught my attention and, since I didn't have the CD near me, I looked it up on Wikipedia hoping that it could tell me what I wanted to know about the song.  I was shocked--SHOCKED I tell you!--to discover that this album that I have loved now for over 30 years (and owned for almost 25) was missing a song!  It turns out that one song, "Everybody Laughed But You," was left off of the US and Canadian releases.  Seriously?  What the hell, people?  I thought the record labels stopped doing this shit in the 1970s.  Now you're telling me it was continuing into the frigging '90s?!?

So--you guessed it--the completist geek in me ordered another copy of the CD from someone in Hull, England, who happened to have it on hand.  It arrived yesterday and while I haven't had a chance to play it yet, I'm still quite excited by it.  So I thought I'd share that album this week.

From 1993, please enjoy Gordon Sumner, a.k.a. Sting, with my favourite of his solo albums--in its entirety--Ten Summoner's Tales.

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

 

 

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

Being the film geek that I am, I will always contend that movies are best appreciated in a theater.  There's something about being in a darkened room with a group of strangers, all of us appreciating the same work of art projected on a large screen, that I find rather comforting.  It's really a communal experience that I greatly appreciate which is kind of ironic because, by and large, I tend to shun people... especially in groups.  In a theater, it's easier to get lost in the film.  You tend to pay more attention to the story and the characters.  You tend to notice little details that you wouldn't notice on your home television (like the skull-shaped object on Mr. Potter's desk in It's a Wonderful Life--seriously, what the hell is that thing?).  I've found that scary movies are scarier on the big screen, comedies are funnier, action films are more intense.  Admittedly, you also have to deal with the behaviour of other people--whether they're talking too loudly or talking on the phone, but, for the most part, these things don't bother me as much as they bother others.

I go to the movies as often as I can.  I have since my early 20s when I discovered I had access to a car and disposable income.  There always seems to be something playing that I want to see.  I've often said that music and movies are the closest things that I get to religion.  Going to a movie (or, for that matter, a record store) is like going to church.  I find it comforting and uplifting on a deeply spiritual level.  Sometimes, even watching a movie at home can have that effect on me.  In fact, some of the films I've highlighted in these weekly "sermons" have left deep impressions on me that I've never been able to fully explain.

"That's part of your problem, you know, you haven't seen enough movies.  All of life's riddles are answered in the movies."

--Steve Martin as Davis in Grand Canyon, 1992

What's interesting to me is that over the last decade or so, I've enjoyed going to see older movies in theaters about as frequently as I've enjoyed seeing new movies.  A lot of these "classics" are films I might have seen at home that I never saw in a theater (frequently movies that were originally released long before I was even born).  Some are films from my youth that I enjoy watching just to feel that age again.  Others, like this week's film, are ones that I just missed the first time around and, for one reason or another, just never got around to seeing.

Most of the time, my friend Tara goes to the movies with me.  We frequently compare notes on different movies, often giving each other grief about some of the films we've never seen.  When she found out I had never seen this week's film, we immediately made plans to see it.  (Although, to be fair, as far as I know, she's still never seen The Godfather, so I think she's worse off.)

This week's film, set in the 23rd century, stars Bruce Willis as a cab driver who inadvertently picks up Milla Jovovich after she crashes through the roof of his cab.  The police seem to be pursuing her, and he feels compelled to protect her.  Despite their apparent language barrier, he figures out that she needs to see a priest (played by Sir Ian Holm) who discovers that she is the key to saving the world from a force of unspeakable evil.  Co-starring Gary Oldman as one of the most delightful villains I've ever seen on screen and Chris Tucker as a celebrity personality (I assumed he was channeling Little Richard in his performance) who is surprisingly both funny and off-putting (a combination I've never seen before).  The film was directed by Luc Besson who also co-wrote the film with Robert Mark Kamen.  Originally released in 1997 (I still don't know how I never saw it until a few days ago), this week I highly recommend The Fifth Element.

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

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

A while back, my friend Elexis and I were actively gossiping about people.  To be clear, I don't necessarily like to participate in gossip (although I have), but I do like to listen to it.  At any rate, Elexis said that she had recently stuck up for me to someone else who apparently had issues with me.  Now I'll be the first to admit that sometimes I can rub some people the wrong way.  I never do it intentionally or maliciously, but it does happen occasionally and, even after all these years, it still bothers me when it does.  Elexis apparently told this person that the only "negative" thing she could think of to say about me is that I occasionally listen to jazz music.

This statement still amuses me no end for any number of reasons.  First of all, I would have thought that my predilection for bagpipe music would have been more offensive than my love of jazz.  I'm also cutting Elexis a lot of slack because she's only known me for six years.  Anyone--including myself--who's known me longer can think of any number of toxic traits that are far more egregious than my taste in music.  But I'll still take it as a tremendous compliment.  Of course, ever since then, whenever I catch myself playing jazz music--even just randomly on my phone--all I can think is, "There goes Will, listening to that jazz music again!"

So this week, I feel compelled to share one of my favourite jazz albums.  I first picked it up in college at a shop on the south end of the Ball State campus called the Discount Den.  It sold a lot of BSU swag, t-shirts, magazines, slushies, playing cards, etc.  Any time I had spare money, I could usually be seen browsing the CD racks that lined the wall next to the checkout counter.  I bought a lot of music there in my four years at BSU and exposed myself to all sorts of different styles of music.  But the Den was where I really discovered some of my favourite jazz artists, especially Art Blakey whom I consider to be my second favourite drummer of all time (behind the late, great Charlie Watts).

This week's album was my introduction to Blakey's music.  I was trying to expose myself to more jazz.  I knew Blakey by name and knew he was a drummer.  I essentially bought it on a whim and, more than 30 years later, I'm glad I did.  It was recorded live at the legendary Birdland jazz club in New York City on 15 April, 1959.  According to Wikipedia, four of the ten (really nine) songs performed had been recorded in the studio just a few weeks prior for an album called Just Coolin'.  For some reason, that album was held back and this album was released in its place.  (Just Coolin' would not be released until 2020--more than 60 years after the fact--as part of an extended celebration of Blakey's 100th birthday.)  Originally released in two volumes in September and October of 1959, this album features introductions by Birdland's MC extraordinaire Pee Wee Marquette.  With saxophonist Hank Mobley, trumpeter Lee Morgan, pianist Bobby Timmons, and bassist Jymie Merritt, please enjoy Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers At the Jazz Corner of the World.

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

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

I didn't have as much time to write these weekly sermons as I thought I would (I'm also not in the mood to write too much this week), but given that I took last week off from writing these, I felt compelled to actually write something this week.

This week's film is just kind of a feel-good film that is one I frequently find myself watching on a Saturday night.  In a small Irish village, one of its denizens wins the lottery and dies before he can claim it--or, for that matter, before anyone realizes that he won... or that he died.  His friends who discover what happened, decide to claim the prize, eventually involving the entire village.

Starring Ian Bannen, David Kelly, and Fionulla Flanagan and written and directed by Kirk Jones, this week, from 1998,  I recommend Waking Ned Devine.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighboubrs, 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

 

 

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

The last couple of weeks have been rough.  Between the election and the memorial service of one of my oldest friends, my vacation sucked.  When you factor in my return to work this past week... yeah, I know there are people in the world who have it considerably worse off than I do--but that doesn't mean that that has improved my mood over the last couple of weeks.

As such, I thought I'd submit a largely upbeat album.  In spite of the concept of a white English guy performing zydeco music, it still brings me a lot of joy when I hear it.  So this week, please enjoy Chris Jagger (and before you ask, yes, he is Mick's brother--in fact, Mick sings backup on a couple of tracks) with his 1995 album Rock the Zydeco.

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

 

 

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

One Christmas, when I was in junior high school, my father gave me the first two collections ("Galleries") of Gary Larson's legendary "Far Side" cartoons.  Most Christmas gifts from my parents were labeled as being from "Mom & Dad."  As I recall, this one was just from "Dad," which made it more of a father-son/male bonding kind of thing.  Of course, I could be recalling that incorrectly--it's been more than thirty-five years, after all--but, frankly, it's not the sort of thing Mom would have thought to give a teenage boy at that time.  At any rate, I fell in love with it.  I might even say it's still my favourite comic series.  (My favourite individual cartoon is still the scientist listening to whale songs--and under the water is a whale floating in front of a microphone singing "Louie Louie.")

There were a number of cartoons that I didn't quite get.  And it wasn't that I didn't get the premise, I just didn't get why it was funny.  Two guys are sitting in a rowboat and off in the distance they see a mushroom cloud--"I'll tell you what this means:  no size restrictions and screw the limits!"  Another cartoon showed a mushroom cloud depicted in the distance and one dog says to his friends, "On the one hand, no more carefree days of running in the park, chasing squirrels.  On the other hand, no more 'Fetch the stick, boy, fetch the stick!'"  Another showed a married couple underground in a bomb shelter, its walls completely lined with canned goods.  Above ground... well, another mushroom cloud (perhaps you're noticing a recurring theme here?).  The wife starts nagging, "Didn't I tell you this place wasn't much good without a can opener?"

This sounds harsh, and I don't intend it to be, but I blame the Mennonite Church for my not understanding the humour in those cartoons.  Mennonites are pacifists and are morally opposed to war or even military service.  Not only was I brought up in the Mennonite Church, but I was brought up in the Mennonite Church during the Cold War--I found myself worrying constantly about the outbreak of a nuclear war.  I even had some rather life-defining nightmares about it... well, I really only remember one nightmare, but that's still one too many for a teenage kid, if you ask me.  Truth be told, I was probably a bit paranoid about the whole thing.  And in the midst of that, here were these cartoons that showed people (and dogs) and what I thought were rather absurd responses to the end of the world.  At one point, I finally just asked my parents why these specific cartoons were funny.  They explained to me the concept of black or dark humour--the ability to laugh at things that aren't usually considered "funny."

At that moment, a switch was flipped in my brain.  Not only did those specific cartoons become funny, but it opened up a whole new--albeit a bit twisted--world and gave me a new perspective on comedy and even life.  I've certainly found it a useful coping mechanism when dealing with the absurdities of the world around me, especially in the last quarter century.  Sometimes I worry that my sense of humour--even my sensibilities in general--are a bit too dark.

When I was a sophomore in college, Dad introduced me to two films which today are tied for my favourite film(s) of all time.  This week's film is one of them.  It's a comedy about the events leading up to a nuclear war.  I'll give you a moment to let that concept sink in.  But I swear it's a really funny film.  I remember Dad telling me that he saw it when it came out in 1964.  He would have been fifteen at the time and Cold War tensions were considerably higher than they were at any point during my lifetime (our current international situation notwithstanding).  He said about the film, "You laugh at it and then you think, 'Shit!  This could happen!'"

Basic premise:  Air Force General Jack D. Ripper (played by Sterling Hayden) orders his planes to bomb the Soviet Union because he perceives the fluoridation of water to be a nefarious Communist plot.  The action shifts between Burpelson Air Force Base (where the bombing order originated), the crew of a B-52 bomber (who are trying to carry out the order), and the "War Room" at the Pentagon (where the President, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and even the Russian Ambassador are trying desperately to countermand the order in an effort to prevent a nuclear holocaust).

Peter Sellers played three different roles (each with a different nationality) and performed one of the best one-sided telephone conversations of all time.  I think it's also safe to say that western film legend Slim Pickens (please refer to my "sermon" on Blazing Saddles from last month) had the greatest death scene in cinema history.  Included in the cast are George C. Scott, Peter Bull, Keenan Wynn, Tracy Reed (the lone woman in the cast), and the great James Earl Jones in his film debut.

Stanley Kubrick not only produced and directed this film, he also co-wrote the screenplay with Terry Southern and Peter George (based on George's dramatic novel, Red Alert).  The film was ultimately nominated for four Academy Awards--Best Picture, Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay, and Best Actor (Sellers)--and listed at #3 on the American Film Institute's list of the 100 greatest film comedies.  I also like to point out that if you're a fan of the TV series "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," the last season (particularly the episode titled "Get It Done") is ten times funnier if you've seen this film.  This week, I recommend Dr. Strangelove: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb!

Ill be taking next week off from these "sermons."  Until I return, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that truth is not always a pleasant thing.

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

Ther Reverend Will the Thrill

 

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

I read an article recently about a whole bunch of movies that are celebrating their twenty-fifth anniversaries this year.  As someone who likes to watch films that are celebrating anniversaries that are divisible by five, I enjoyed the stroll down memory lane to re-acquaint myself with what I first saw a quarter century ago.  Lots of now classic films like The Sixth Sense and The Matrix (which I have to confess I only saw once on VHS a few years after the fact).  Some films that, after watching again, I think are as relevant today as they were then (specifically, believe it or not, South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut--begging the question, what exactly would Brian Boitano do if he were here right now?).  I was also pleased to see smaller films like Election on the list.

This got me thinking about albums that came out that year.  I Googled (which I'm pretty sure was not a verb in 1999) "Albums released in 1999."  It immediately produced a list of 51 albums--not exactly comprehensive, but a good start..  I was surprised to learn I owned four of them on that list including now classic works by Tom Waits, Fiona Apple, Moby, and Santana with his big comeback album that went on to win eight Grammy awards and forced me to explain to my own generation who Carlos Santana is.

Not only was this week's album not on that list, as I write this, I haven't found it on any other list (so far).  And yet, for some reason, it stands out to me more than the other albums released that year.

When it first came out, it was featured on a listening station in the music department at Barnes & Noble.  I was familiar with the group by name.  I had heard maybe three of their songs on the radio in their twenty year history (twenty-five years later, those are still the only songs of theirs that I can remember hearing over the airwaves).  What stuck in my head most, however, was a prime time special about "Saturday Night Live" that aired just before the show's fifteenth season.  Part of the program involved a montage of the show's musical guests over the previous decade and a half.  I don't know why the brief five second clip of the lead singer whose bangs practically covered her eyes stuck with me.  But for some reason it compelled me to check out their new album on that listening station.

I absolutely loved what I heard and immediately bought the album.  In the years since, I've acquired all but one of their studio albums.  I've enjoyed them all.  In fact, the song they did on "SNL" back in the day is my favourite of theirs (I even stole its title--"Don't Get Me Wrong"--for the name of this blog).  But whenever I hear this album, it takes me back to the summer of 1999--half my life ago--the summer I took over B&N's music department, the time I spent with my then-girlfriend, and my first crappy apartment.

Featuring guest appearances by Jeff Beck, David Johansen, and the Duke Quartet, liner note photos by Mary McCartney, and a cover photo by Linda McCartney, please enjoy The Pretenders with their 1999 album ¡Viva El Amor!

I'll be taking next week off for personal reasons.  Until I return, 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