Dear London

One of my favourite YouTube channels is Letters Live, in which celebrities read letters written by people both famous and not, many of which are quite humourous.  I stumbled upon a video some months back in which Benedict Cumberbatch (a frequent letter reader) announced a competition encouraging viewers to write a letter to the city of London.  The winning letter would be read aloud by Cumberbatch at a Letters Live performance.

While the winning letter was ten times more eloquent than anything I could have ever hoped to have written, I was still kind of proud of my submission.  So I thought I'd put it here where you can read it.

 

9 September, 2025

Dear London,

Let me begin by saying that I am an American. Please don't hold that against me. I've only been to London—in fact, I've only been to the UK—once. But it had such a profound effect on me that in the years and decades since my visit, I've found myself reflecting on my short time there more than frequently.  My sister (also an American, but I swear she's cool) was spending a year working for The Simon Community, a charity that was a favourite of the Queen Mother, and I was visiting her with another friend of ours on holiday (or "vacation" as we call it in the States).

Like many Americans, I probably had a slightly romanticized vision of London from literature and films—specifically the works of Richard Curtis and, of course, Mary Poppins. And I definitely felt a bit of that from the minute I got off the plane at Gatwick Airport. After exchanging our currency, my friend and I got on a train to take us into the city. As we rode past what I thought were quaint little homes that looked like an illustration in a children's book, I had to remind myself that actual people actually lived in those actual houses. We have houses like that in America too—along with actual people who actually live in them—but they were never anything special to me in my own country. For the first time in my life, I was the foreign visitor. I suddenly felt compelled to be on my best behaviour and not come off as the stereotypical "ugly American." I hope I was at least moderately successful.

I spent my 27th birthday roaming the streets of your fair city, occasionally singing aloud the chorus of Bill Withers's song "Lovely Day" because... well, it was. To this day, it was one of the loveliest days I've spent. I became completely enchanted by you. I don't know if it was you, or the company I was keeping on the day, but it was the best birthday I've ever had.

As I said, I was affected by the experience. Just to be ornery, I now write dates backward by American standards and I've adopted the British spellings of certain words like "colour." And if HP Sauce ever needs an international spokesperson, I'm available. It is, quite possibly, my favourite condiment.

In spite of that, I haven't been back in the nearly 25 years since, simply because I'm afraid that it won't be as enchanting the second time around. Perhaps our relationship is destined to be a brief, but hopefully meaningful, fling—ships that pass in the night and all that. Perhaps... but I hope not.

With much love,

Will Allen

 

Tower Bridge, London, UK, April, 2001

 

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

Today is Dick Van Dyke's 100th birthday.  And having grown up watching him, first in reruns of "The Dick Van Dyke Show" and later "Diagnosis Murder" in which he played a mystery solving doctor who worked alongside his detective son (played by his real-life son Barry), I've been a fan pretty much my whole life.  I have a deep admiration for him and his work--if for no other reason that even at his age, he's still quite the hoofer (check out the Coldplay video he appeared in just last year if you don't believe me).

In honour of that, I felt compelled to submit this bonus film for the simple fact that I've loved this film most of my life.  My mother took me to see it in a theater when I was four or five years old.  She had always been a fan of both of the film's leading stars.  As such, I grew up to be a fan of both of them myself.

I alluded to this movie in last week's film "sermon" when I talked about certain scenes within a movie.  I mentioned specifically the tea party on the ceiling from this movie as being one of my favourite individual film scenes.  In fact, being the compulsive list-maker that I am, if I had to rank them, I would put it at #3 on my list of all-time favourite scenes (behind the assassination of Don Fanucci in The Godfather Part II and Wolfman Jack's scene in American Graffiti).  Although now that I think of it, I would probably put the "Step in Time" number with the chimney sweeps on the rooftops at #4.

In spite of the fact that Van Dyke gave us what is arguably the worst Cockney accent in film history (perhaps eclipsed only by Lin-Manuel Miranda in the 2018 sequel), it's still a perennial favourite.  It's one of the greatest family films ever made, arguably one of the greatest Disney films ever made, and one that I still like to revisit from time to time.  Julie Andrews won an Oscar for what was only her first (released) film and became an overnight sensation as the titular magical nanny to two children.  The songs that Richard and Robert Sherman wrote for the film are just as classic and still sung today including "A Spoonful of Sugar," "Feed the Birds," "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," and the Oscar-winning "Chim-Chim-Cheree."

Bill Walsh and Don DaGradi wrote the screenplay based on P.L. Travers's series of children's books.  Unfortunately, she was not a fan of the movie and was skeptical throughout the development process (for more on this, check out the 2013 film Saving Mr. Banks starring Emma Thompson as Travers and Tom Hanks as Walt Disney).

Released in 1964 and directed by Robert Stevenson, this week, in honour of Dick Van Dyke's centennial, please enjoy the one and only Mary Poppins.  Like Julie Andrews in her Golden Globe acceptance speech, I too would like to thank Mr. Jack Warner for making it all possible.  (You can look that one up, if you're not familiar with the story.)

This will be my last Film of the Week "sermon" for 2025.  I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, whatever holiday you celebrate (or even if you don't).

Until 2026, 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 have a theory about the holiday season.  I think most of us--at least most of us over the age of about eight years old--don't really believe in Santa Claus.  I mean the idea of a jolly, fat guy in a red suit who lives at the North Pole (a fairly uninhabitable place) with a wife and a bunch of elves, who travels on a flying sleigh pulled by reindeer... that alone is fantastically absurd.  And I haven't even gotten into the more professional aspects of his life!  But I do think that most of us, regardless of age, want to believe in Santa Claus.  And, frankly, who wouldn't?

(Many years ago, I commented that I would like to see a "Far Side"-type cartoon of Fox Mulder's office decorated for the holiday season.  On the wall behind him would be his "I Want to Believe" poster, but instead of depicting a UFO, it would have a reindeer-pulled sleigh.  A friend of mine actually drew that cartoon for me that Christmas.  I still have it.)

For those of us who at least want to believe in Santa Claus, we kind of have to rely on depictions of him in film and television.  Over the years, we've seen a variety of actors put on the red suit and yell, "Ho!  Ho!  Ho!"  From Kurt Russell in The Christmas Chronicles to Tim Allen in The Santa Clause, they make us actually believe in Santa Claus... if only for a couple of hours.  One of my personal favourite performances was Ed Asner in Elf--in spite of his jollity, he had kind of a world-weariness about him.  The fact that so few people believed in him genuinely seemed to hurt him, which actually kind of hurt me as a viewer.

But the performance of Santa in this week's film is, I think, the best.  Watching it makes you want to believe in Santa even more than you probably already want to.  In it, Edmund Gwenn plays a department store Santa (Macy's specifically) who is introduced to us when he saves Macy's annual Thanksgiving Day Parade by filling in for a "Santa" who's clearly too drunk to function.  He goes on to work in the store, meeting children and finding out what they want for Christmas.  He even does the unheard of by sending parents to other department stores to find items that aren't in stock at Macy's.  He's offended by the crass commercialism of the season and just wants to make children happy.

He befriends Doris Walker (the great Maureen O'Hara), a single mother who happened to hire him for the parade.  She's raised her young daughter Susan (played by Natalie Wood) to not believe in fairy tales or Santa Claus or anything else other than "reality," to keep her from being disappointed later in life.  Unfortunately, this Santa Claus believes he really is Kris Kringle.  In fact, his employment card at Macy's lists his name as Kris Kringle, born at the North Pole.  His next of kin are even listed as Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, and Blitzen (which I assume must be a blow to Mrs. Claus).  Before long, Fred Gailey (played by John Payne), a lawyer who is letting Kris room with him temporarily, has to defend his new roommate in court to prove that he is sane and shouldn't be institutionalized.

Edmund Gwenn put on 30 pounds to play Kris and went on to win the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, making him, to the best of my knowledge, the only actor to win an Oscar for playing Santa Claus.  The Thanksgiving Day Parade scenes at the beginning of the film were actually shot during the real Macy's Parade in 1946.  Spectators didn't even realize it was Gwenn in the Santa suit.  George Seaton not only directed but also wrote the screenplay based on a story by Valentine Davies (both of whom won Oscars for the screenplay and story respectively).  Released in May of 1947 (because 20th Century Fox studio head Darryl F. Zanuck argued more people went to the movies during the summer), the film went on to become a holiday classic that's still beloved today.  In fact, it's one of only three Christmas movies ever nominated for Best Picture--the other two being The Bishop's Wife, which was nominated the same year, and It's a Wonderful Life, which was nominated the year before.  This week, please enjoy Miracle on 34th Street.

Due to mitigating circumstances, I'm submitting a bonus Film of the Week "sermon" this week.  Stay tuned.

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

The Reverend Will the Thrill

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

It's that time of year again--snow is falling, bells are jingling, toes are mistling... that's right, folks, it's the holiday season!  And whatever holiday you personally celebrate based on whatever faith, religion, or tradition you practice (or even if you don't), I hope you're having a great one.

A couple of weeks ago, I mused about the differences between adults and children where it pertains to the falling of snow.  To some degree, I think this is true of the holidays as well.  I get a lot less excited about them as an adult than I did as a kid.  I suppose it could just be me, so I won't speak for all adults.  And I suppose I would feel differently if I had young kids of my own--or even grandkids, as I've discovered so many people my age now have.

I don't dread it like I did when I worked retail, but I did that for so long that I still have certain attitude problems that never fully went away.  And my current job doesn't shut down for the holidays.  In fact, I actually have to work this Christmas.  It's a lot harder to get excited about the holidays when you know that's looming over your head.

The older I get, the more of a curmudgeon I become.  It's not that I hate the holidays--I mean, I haven't said "Bah! Humbug!" since 2008--I just have to convince myself to participate.  I still put up a tree and watch a lot of holiday movies.  (And, yes, I do consider Die Hard to be a Christmas movie, but more importantly, I think Lethal Weapon is a better Christmas movie than Die Hard.  Yeah, I said it!) But there are still some battle scars from my retail days.  Clearly, I stayed in it too long.

The one thing I do more frequently than I did a decade ago is listen to holiday music.  As I've often said, when I worked retail, I would usually find myself burned out on Christmas music around Veterans' Day because corporate started pushing it sometime after Labour Day.  But when I don't have to listen to it 40 hours a week, I find I actually want to from time to time.  The interesting thing about holiday music is that it's hard to screw up.  Consequently, I find that I have some Christmas CDs in my collection by artists that I don't even like (maybe I'll focus on that next year).  The one habit from my retail days is that I still tend to examine lyrics that make no sense.  I don't understand why the ox and lamb kept time.  As the Little Drummer Boy... isn't that his job?

Anyway, this holiday season, I want to share one of my favourite Christmas albums.  The one thing I like about this album is that the first half of the album is more "contemporary" Christmas songs, and the second half is more traditional songs with a heavy gospel influence (in fact a couple of songs aren't even Christmas tunes--just straight up gospel).  I firmly believe that the album's opening track, the Jerry Leiber/Mike Stoller penned "Santa Claus is Back in Town," is the best rock 'n' roll Christmas song ever recorded.  The second half of the album, in particular, shows off the vocal talents of The Jordanaires, who I contend were the greatest backup singers of all time.  They, more than anyone else, actually gave me an appreciation for gospel music that I never used to have growing up.  From 1957, please enjoy the King of Rock 'n' Roll himself with his first--and I've always felt his best--collection of holiday tunes, Elvis' Christmas Album.

This will be my last "Album of the Week" sermon for 2025.  I wish you all a fabulous holiday season and you'll be hearing from me again in the New Year.  In the meantime, be kind to the retail clerks and restaurant servers and cafe baristas who wait on you this holiday season.  Many of them are likely just trying to get through it.

Until 2026, 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 was thinking about some of my favourite films--not just the films, but specific scenes from those films.  There are certain movies where one certain moment in the film moved me in such a way, that I don't have to watch the entire movie--just that particular scene.  For as much as I love Mary Poppins--and I do--I'm perfectly content to just watch the tea party on the ceiling.

This week's film is kind of like that.  I love the whole movie, but one scene near the end has always stuck with me and I find myself pulling it up on YouTube once in awhile just to watch it out of context (I've included a link to it as well).  It's kind of sentimental, because it stars one of my heroes.

I think it's safe to say that Wolfman Jack has been a profound influence on me since I read his memoir Have Mercy! Confessions of the Original Rock 'n' Roll Animal in the summer of 2001.  Admittedly, the Wolfman was a little before my time.  I do have faint childhood memories of seeing him on "Hollywood Squares" when I was in preschool.  And he died in 1995 while on a book tour for that memoir which had just been published.  But in reading it, I felt like I had found a kindred musical spirit.  He seemed like someone I would have liked to have known--like someone I could have been if I were considerably less restrained than I am, both personally and professionally.

His influence, at least subconsciously, wormed its way into the promotional announcements I would make at Barnes & Noble in Bloomington in the 2000s.  In 2008, he even came to me in a dream and told me that he really liked those announcements.  I was terribly flattered.  I didn't even know he'd been in the store, let alone heard my hijinks over the store's PA system.  Of course, after I awoke, I remembered that he had died the year the store opened--two years before I even worked there.  And I've still never figured out what we were doing in my high school gym.  But it was enough to keep me doing it, both in and out of the store.  If you ever had the dubious honour of witnessing me announce a roller derby bout, you would not be wrong in saying that Wolfman Jack had some influence on The Reverend Will the Thrill.  I had a lot of fun earlier this year cosplaying as the Wolfman for a trivia competition.  (This is something of a long story, but I enclosed a picture.  I just wish I could have had his hair.)

I finally saw the movie American Graffiti after my father passed away--I found it among his DVDs.  I don't know why I had never seen it before, but I hadn't.  It was one I had always wanted to see and not just because Wolfman Jack is in it.  I grew up watching many of the actors in the cast and wanted to see the film that was a huge boost to so many careers, including the director.

To call the film nostalgic is a gross understatement.  I'm not sure there is even a word in the English language to describe the level of nostalgia that practically drips from this movie.  The soundtrack is fully loaded with some of the greatest songs of the first decade of rock 'n' roll, often punctuated by the Wolfman's full-throated introductions.  (As a call-back to my earlier tribute rant to Steve Cropper, I will say that the film is set in 1962 and the soundtrack does contain "Green Onions" by Booker T. & The MGs.)  It's a wonderful look back at young adulthood, that transition between high school and life, and the car culture of California in the early 1960s.

The film stars future Oscar-winning director Ron Howard (or "Ronny" as he's billed here), Richard Dreyfuss, and Charles Martin Smith as high school friends on their last night together after graduation before heading out into the great big world.  Along for the ride (before they were widely known) are Cindy Williams, Paul Le Mat, Candy Clark, Suzanne Somers, Mackenzie Phillips, and Harrison Ford.

Four years before Star Wars changed the way movies were made, George Lucas made a name for himself by co-writing and directing this love letter to his youth.  The movie would go on to be nominated for five Academy Awards including Best Picture, Director, Original Screenplay (which Lucas shared with Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck), Supporting Actress (Candy Clark), and Film Editing (Verna Fields and Marcia Lucas).  Released in 1973, this week, please enjoy American Graffiti--whether it be the whole film or just Wolman Jack's scene with Richard Dreyfuss.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that the Wolfman is everywhere!

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

The Reverend Will the Thrill

Yes, gracious, ladies and gents, everthing's gonna be everything, 'cause the Wolfman is in the house!  And we're gonna be rockin' and rollin' and movin' and groovin' to the greatest songs of all time.  All.  Night.  Long.  HAVE MERCY!!!!

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week--Part the Second!

This week's bonus album was unplanned.  But I would feel remiss if I didn't do it.  One of the... hallmarks, for lack of a better word, of these weekly "sermons" is what I call the memorial rant.  And we lost one of the greats this past week and I feel compelled to mention it here.

Steve Cropper died earlier this week at the age of 84.  A cornerstone of Memphis soul music in the 1960s, he was ranked #39 by Rolling Stone on their list of the 100 greatest guitarists in 2015.  (Mojo, a British publication, ranked him at #2 on their list of guitar greats, just behind Jimi Hendrix, in 1996.)

As a member of the Royal Spades, Cropper joined Stax Records in Memphis when they were still known as Satellite Records.  The Royal Spades later became known as The Mar-Keys, playing in session recordings for the studio, even having a hit single of their own in 1961 with "Last Night."  The following year, Cropper became part of the new "house band" at Stax, Booker T. & The MGs.  Alongside Hammond organist Booker T. Jones, drummer Al Jackson Jr., and bassist Lewie Steinberg (later replaced by Donald "Duck" Dunn), they backed many of the artists who recorded for Stax including Otis Redding, Sam & Dave, Eddie Floyd, Wilson Pickett, and Carla Thomas.  Cropper even co-wrote quite a few of those hit songs including Pickett's "In the Midnight Hour," Floyd's "Knock On Wood," and Redding's posthumous hit "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay."  Booker T. & The MGs even managed to score a few instrumental hits of their own including "Time Is Tight," "Soul Limbo," "Hip Hug-Her," and of course "Green Onions," which seems to be featured in the soundtrack to any movie set in 1962.

In the late 1970s, John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd, then part of the Not-Ready-For-Prime-Time Players at "Saturday Night Live," formed a musical group.  Cropper, along with fellow MG "Duck" Dunn and a tremendous group of musicians became part of The Blues Brothers Band.  They became so popular on the show that they were eventually signed to a recording contract with Atlantic Records.  The Blues Brothers toured the country opening for comedian Steve Martin.  Aykroyd wrote a whole backstory for the band (which is partially chronicled in the liner notes to their 1978 album A Briefcase Full of Blues), eventually developing it into a screenplay and a movie, The Blues Brothers, which was released in 1980.  (For more on this, please see my "Film of the Week" rant from 22 November of this year.)

Over the years, Cropper continued to record--both as a musician and a producer--with a whole host of artists including Rod Stewart, John Prine, Jeff Beck, John Mellencamp, Eric Clapton, and Sammy Hagar.  He also received many accolades along the way including two Grammy Awards, with five other nominations between 1967 and 2022.  Booker T. & The MGs were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1992, and Cropper was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2005.

But I will always think of him first and foremost as an architect of the "Memphis Sound" that defined some of the best soul music ever recorded.  This week's album is one of my favourites of the era by my favourite singer of all time.  Released in 1965 on the Stax subsidiary Volt Records, the album consists of mostly cover songs, three of them by Sam Cooke, who had been murdered the previous year.  Backed by Booker T. & The MGs as well as the Memphis Horns, please enjoy the one and only Otis Redding with his third album, Otis Blue / Otis Redding Sings Soul.

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--Part the First!

Well, folks, it's that time of the year when I pick my favourite album that was released in 2025.  Keep in mind that what I like is not always what shows up on Billboard charts or Spotify's most streamed lists.  Sometimes, but not always...  I'm not a huge fan of the music of Taylor Swift or Bad Bunny, but I do love the new Florence + The Machine album (although I just submitted one of Flo's albums recently, so I won't pick hers).

There were some wonderful albums that came out this past year that appealed to me.  Early on, Ringo Starr released Look Up, a country album that was quite good.  It was produced by the great T-Bone Burnett and featured appearances by artists like Billy Strings, Molly Tuttle, Lucius, and the always amazing Alison Krauss.

Jon Batiste released his newest album, Big Money, a few months ago.  I'm a big fan of Batiste and it's a fantastic album although, to be honest, I bought it primarily for his duet with Randy Newman (of whom I'm an even bigger fan)--a cover of the classic Doc Pomus song "Lonely Avenue."  Worth the price of the album.

I was quite entertained by the soundtrack to the film Spinal Tap II: The End Continues.  It consisted of new music from "England's Loudest Band," with some appearances by Sir Paul McCartney, Sir Elton John, Garth Brooks, and Trisha Yearwood on some of their classic songs.  What really sells it is the cover, which is an homage to Crosby, Stills & Nash's first album.  It was photographed by legendary photographer Henry Diltz who also photographed the CSN album in 1969.

Speaking of Elton John (who yelled from his bedazzled body cast in his hospital bed--and I quote--"FUCK SPINAL TAP!"), I was probably most taken with his new album.  Actually, it's a collaboration.  He and lifelong fan Brandi Carlile--quite the singer/songwriter in her own right--teamed up and released an album this past April.  Frankly, I found it uplifting--inspiring even.  These are emotions that are sometimes in short supply these days.  So I take them where I can find them.  Produced by uber-producer Andrew Watt (who has produced everyone from Cardi B to my beloved Rolling Stones), Elton and Brandi co-wrote all the tracks with Watt and Elton's longtime creative partner Bernie Taupin.  The album climbed to #9 on Billboard's Hot 200 chart and #1 on the Top Rock and Alternative album chart.  Every so often my tastes do coincide with the general public.  So this week, please enjoy my favourite album of 2025, Who Believes in Angels?

(It should be noted that the album features the song "You Without Me" which also appears on Brandi Carlile's also quite excellent solo album Returning To Myself, which came out in October.)

There's a previously unplanned bonus album featured this week!

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 went to see the new film adaptation of The Running Man the other day.  I'd been looking forward to it since I first saw the trailer a few months ago.  What sold me on the film was the simple fact that Edgar Wright co-wrote and directed it.  Most people get excited about movies because certain actors are in them.  And I'm certainly one of them.  And as much as I liked the actors in the cast, the premise of the movie didn't look like it would be something I would like.  However, when I found out Wright was behind it, that no longer mattered.  I knew that I would be treated to two hours of properly mixed action and humour backed by a killer soundtrack.  I was not wrong.

Wright first made a name for himself (at least in this country) with 2004's Shaun of the Dead, the first film in what unofficially became known as "The Cornetto Trilogy."  I didn't see it until many years after its initial release, but I was convinced to see it because I had enjoyed some of his later films.  And as much as I'm not a fan of zombie films, I have to say I really enjoyed Shaun.  Looking back on that now, I have a sneaking suspicion that if almost anyone else had directed some of his other movies (specifically The Running Man and 2021's Last Night in Soho), I probably wouldn't have gone to see them for the simple reason that, based on the trailers (which are basically ads trying to convince me to go see movies), they would not have appealed to me.  However, if a director is someone whose work I admire, I'll likely open my mind enough to give it a shot.

I feel that Wright is often an underappreciated director.  I think part of that is because most of his films can be aptly described as action/comedies--two genres that don't get a lot of love from the Academy come awards season.  I thought 2017's Baby Driver was one of the best-directed films I'd seen in some time--and that was just the car chases!  And while the film was nominated for three Oscars, they were all in sound and film editing categories.  Films like that don't typically get nominated for the big categories like Best Picture or Director.  (To be fair, Kevin Spacey is in the movie as a malicious crime boss, for lack of a better term, and the film came out around the time of his fall from grace, which probably didn't help it.  Still--excellent heist film.  Amazing soundtrack.)

In spite of all the amazing movies he's made in the last 20+ years, this week's film was the first of his that I saw and it's still my favourite.  When the film came out, I didn't know who Wright was.  My cousin Aaron, who saw the film with me, told me about Shaun of the Dead and that it was directed by the same guy.  But, based on the trailer, it looked like something I would like given the fact that I'm a fan of cop films from the 1970s and 1980s like Dirty Harry, Die Hard, and Lethal Weapon.  It was everything I hoped it would be and I still enjoy it all these years later.  It was action-packed, incredibly funny, and a wonderful homage to the genre.  Even the film's casting showed that Wright was a bigger film geek than I am.  There are subtle little references to past action thrillers throughout the movie--the geekier you are, the more you'll appreciate it.

This film is the second of "The Cornetto Trilogy" and, like both its predecessor (Shaun of the Dead) and successor (2013's The World's End), Wright co-wrote it with his mate Simon Pegg who also co-stars with their other mate, Nick Frost.  The film also features a number of actors such as Paddy Considine, Rafe Spall, Martin Freeman, and Bill Nighy who worked with Wright in the past and/or would work with him in the future.  Also starring Jim Broadbent, Olivia Coleman, Billie Whitelaw, Edward Woodward, Stuart Wilson, Paul Freeman, Bill Bailey, and Timothy Dalton (with some unrecognizable cameos by Cate Blanchett and Peter Jackson), from 2007, please enjoy Hot Fuzz.

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!

As I write this, I'm watching the snow accumulate outside my office window.  I'm dreading tomorrow when I'll have to shovel my sidewalk with my bum hip that needs to be replaced.  I may wait until Monday--after all, it's supposed to snow tomorrow as well, so what would be the point?

I miss my youth when I could look at snow falling and not think, "Man, I have to drive to work in this shit."  Many years ago, I was at work watching it come down and dreading the commute home when I suddenly remembered being younger.  There's an inherent beauty to snow that kids (and I define "kids" as anyone under the age of 25) seem to understand more than adults, whether they realize it or not.  It is nothing if not photogenic.  After all, freshly fallen snow has been the subject of many paintings and song lyrics over the centuries--I even have a painting of it hanging in my home.  Kids get that--they look forward to snow days and building snowpeople and sledding and making snow angels.  Adults dread cleaning it up and trying to get through it.

When I was in college, I used to go out in the snow and dance to what I considered "romantic" music.  I even used to ask every pretty young woman I saw if she wanted to join me.  Only one ever took me up on it.  I remember slow dancing with her in the snow outside Schmidt and Wilson Halls on the campus of Ball State to the music of Jimmy Durante which we could barely hear through my headphones.  It's one of my more indelible college memories and always makes me smile when I think about it.  It was such a sweet moment in hindsight--the one woman brave enough to dance with the crazy goofball in the snow in the middle of a Muncie winter.  I just feel awful that I don't remember her name.

Anyway... where was I?  Oh, yes, I was at work some winters back, watching snow accumulate, and not wanting to drive home in that shit.  Suddenly all those memories of days home from school and Jimmy Durante music came back to me.  I wanted nothing more than to go home, have a cup of tea, and watch it fall.  And when my shift ended, I did just that.  I made a cup of tea and sat outside listening to Florence + The Machine's MTV Unplugged album.  That live performance of "Dog Days Are Over" combined with the snow falling literally had tears streaming down my face.  I've described the moment as a religious experience.  I sometimes worry that someone slipped something in my tea other than the lemon and honey that I normally put in it.  (And I know I've written this all before, so I apologize to those who have read it and/or heard me tell it many times in the past.)

After I had the (adult) presence of mind to come back inside, I did what I think I do best.  I made a playlist of songs to listen to while watching it snow.  I still play it when the weather's right.  If I'm pressed for time, I might just play the first four songs.  If you're so inclined, and want music by which to watch it snow where you are, I did put it on Spotify.  Weirdly, I didn't think to put any Jimmy Durante on it.

"The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do.  It takes ages longer than it might seem.  You gotta kick it off with a killer--to grab attention.  Then you gotta take it up a notch!  But you don't wanna blow your wad.  So then you gotta cool it off a notch.  There are a lot of rules."

--John Cusack as Rob Gordon in High Fidelity, 2000

Against my initial instincts, I decided not to open the mix with "Dog Days Are Over."  Somehow, in the back of my mind, I felt that that was the song that would "take it up a notch."  So the trick was finding that "killer" opening number.  And I found it in the title track to this week's album.

While writing this and watching a movie, I perused the rest of the album while looking out my window (I hadn't listened to it in a long time).  I realized that the other songs were also quite excellent for watching snow fall.  So, in fond memory of What's Her Name, this week, please enjoy Elvis Costello & The Attractions with their last album together, 1996's All This Useless Beauty.

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 written in the past about how sometimes a film will hit me in such a way that I'll watch it over and over again as if I'm somehow addicted to it.  Most of the time, I have no idea why.  I can explain why I like the movie, but the reason for my desire to re-watch it many times over never ceases to elude me.  Perhaps the fact that I can't explain why is what fascinates me.  I like the mystery of it.

I first became aware of this phenomenon in 2000 when I couldn't seem to stop watching the movie Grosse Pointe Blank that I had recently purchased.  But if I'm honest with myself (and you, the reader), I went through the same thing in 1996 with Blazing Saddles.  When I think about it, I think I first experienced it in 1990 with this week's film.

It was one of Dad's favourites.  I remember him renting it a year or two earlier.  I watched it with him and while I enjoyed it, I wasn't as enamoured with it as I would later become.  But that summer, I saved up my money to buy a VHS tape of The Blues Brothers to give to him for Father's Day.  We watched it again that afternoon and something clicked for me.

While I could tell he was excited to now own it, I think my sister Heather and I watched it more than he did.  We would literally come home from school in the afternoon and pop it in the VCR.  We memorized the dialogue and would recite it while watching the film (as long as she got to be the character of Jake).  I still remember most of it.  I'll be she does too.  But it has, over the course of my life, played a prominent part in it, popping up here and there, whether I need it to or not.

In the eleventh grade, my English teacher assigned the class to give a report on the last movie we'd watched.  It shouldn't be any surprise that, for me, it was The Blues Brothers.  Given the fact that my English teacher always gave me the impression that she felt she was actually teaching Sunday School rather than English, I made up a lot of B.S. about the religious symbolism I picked up in the film.  I think I referred to it as "deeply spiritual."  35 years later, I've actually reached a point where I believe my own line of B.S.  I do find the film spiritual in a weird way.  It could be the strange alchemy of music and comedy, both of which I find healing to the soul.  While I doubt either Dan Aykroyd or John Landis had that in mind when they wrote the script, I do consider it one of the most spiritual movies I've ever seen.  What really makes me laugh is that in 2010, the Catholic Church actually endorsed the movie as being a "Catholic classic" and deemed it appropriate for all Catholics, in spite of its R rating (for language, which I have issues with, but that's another story).  According to Reuters, the film joins a list of other Church-approved cinema classics such as Franco Zeffirelli's Jesus of Nazareth, Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ, Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandments, and Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life.  I figure when the Catholic Church essentially agrees with something that I had been saying for twenty years at that point, something is seriously amiss somewhere.

During my junior year of college, the residence hall in which I lived and worked as an R.A. was putting on a lip sync contest.  During our Hall Council meeting the night before, my friend Anthony--possibly an even bigger Blues Brothers fan than I am--looked over at me and said, "Do you want to do 'Rawhide' and 'Stand By Your Man'?"  I said, "Sure."  We had less than 24 hours to prepare the routine.  "Stand By Your Man" was not on the film's soundtrack.  Somebody had to dub it from video tape to audio tape for us with Cab Calloway's introduction from later in the movie tacked on at the beginning (this is how we had to do it in the '90s, folks!).  Somebody else even managed to procure a whip for me to crack (I refused to ask any questions on that one).  I had to basically wear two stage costumes as I was also doing a solo number and had that costume on underneath my suit and tie.  Our individual daily schedules didn't even give us a chance to rehearse.  But both Anthony and I knew the film so well, we didn't need to.  After our--if I may humbly say--rather rousing performance, Anthony paraphrased another classic film and said to me, "Rehearsals?  We don't need no stinking rehearsals!"  We placed second in the group category.

The film was released in theaters to commemorate its 35th anniversary in 2015.  I was so pleased that I got to finally see it on a big screen.  I was even more pleased that I got to see it with Dad who introduced me to what, to this day, is still one of my favourite movies.  The following year, he was in home hospice.  Mom, Heather, and I squeezed into the bedroom with him and we all watched it together.  It was the last film the four of us watched together as a family.

(I was kind of hoping that they would release it again this year for its 45th anniversary, this time as part of a Carrie Fisher double feature, alongside The Empire Strikes Back which was released the same year.)

So this week, I submit my very first film addiction.  The first movie based on a "Saturday Night Live" routine, it was directed by John Landis and starred John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Carrie Fisher, John Candy, Kathleen Freeman, Steven Williams, Armand Cerami, Charles Napier, Frank Oz, Steve Lawrence, and Henry Gibson, with performances (both acting and musical) by Cab Calloway, James Brown with James Cleveland's Southern California Community Choir and Chaka Khan, Ray Charles, John Lee Hooker, Aretha Franklin, and the Blues Brothers Band--Steve Cropper, Donald "Duck" Dunn, Tom "Bones" Malone, Willie "Too Big" Hall, Murphy Dunne, Alan "Mr. Fabulous" Rubin, Matt "Guitar" Murphy, and "Blue" Lou Marini.  Featuring not one, but TWO of the greatest car chases ever filmed (making it, at the time, the most expensive comedy ever made), originally released in 1980, please enjoy The Blues Brothers.  I recommend making it a Thanksgiving tradition.  Wish I could still dance like that.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember, people, that no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive, and survive, there are still some things that make us all the same--you... me... them... everybody!  Everybody!

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

The Reverend Will the Thrill

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

Some years back in one of these weekly ramblings, I talked about getting my driver's license and driving on my own for the first time.  I had discovered on my car radio a station out of Bloomington, Indiana (WTTS, 92.3 FM), that played a wide range of music that seemed to appeal to me--both classic and contemporary rock, as well as blues, including deep album cuts that most stations don't play.  As I believe I pointed out then, it was the only time in my life I heard Billy Joel's "The Ballad of Billy the Kid" on the radio.

One summer during my college years, the station played a song by an up-and-coming artist--one of those that's hard to categorize by genre.  Pop, rock, "alt" country (whatever the hell that is), folk, blues--he kind of blended it all.  I identified with the lyrics to the song, so much so that it became sort of an unofficial anthem of my college years--I don't know why exactly.  I've never been arrested, I didn't drink at all at that point in my life, I've never smoked anything stronger than a Cuban cigar, to this day I've never looked at Madonna's book (let alone read it), and my old man never referred to me as a "no good punk."  I think I just liked the everyman feel of it.  30 years later, I still do.

The song was called "Alright Guy" and it was performed by Todd Snider.  As much as I loved hearing it on the radio in my early 20s, weirdly, I kind of forgot about it after I left home and moved to--of all places--Bloomington.  Some years ago, likely while drinking on a Saturday night and posting to Facebook, I found myself thinking about songs I heard on WTTS repeatedly during my college years.  I recalled the song and was delighted to find a video on YouTube, which I promptly posted on my page.  Unusually for me, I never felt inspired to explore more of Snider's music.  This was the only song of his I ever knew and it's slipped in and out of my musical consciousness periodically over the last 30 years.

I read this week that Todd Snider died last week at the age of 59.  When I first saw the article, I have to confess that I couldn't quite place the name.  It sounded familiar to me, but I thought I might be thinking of Todd Rundgren.  As I read the article and stumbled upon the song title "Alright Guy" (what turned out to be his biggest song), it all came flooding back to me.  I felt compelled to check out more of his music, especially after I read that he was friends with and influenced by the likes John Prine, Kris Kristofferson, Jerry Jeff Walker, and Jimmy Buffett.  In fact, Buffett actually signed him to his record label, Margaritaville Records, a subsidiary of MCA.  I discovered that that "everyman" feel that I initially identified with in "Alright Guy" came across in his other works--even in cover versions of other artists' songs.  His most recent album, High, Lonesome and Then Some., was just released in October.  I'm quite taken with his music and look forward to exploring more.  I only wish I'd done so while he was still alive.  Well... better late than never, I guess.

So in honour of Snider and collegiate nostalgia, I submit this week's album.  Released in 1994 on Margaritaville Records it was produced by Tony Brown and Jimmy Buffett's Coral Reefer bandmate Mike Utley, who also played keyboards.  The album was comprised of songs that Snider had been performing at the Nashville nightclub The Daily Planet.  Featuring "Alright Guy" as well as the hidden track which also became a minor hit, "Talking Seattle Grunge Rock Blues," please enjoy the late, great Todd Snider with Songs For The Daily Planet.

(Sadly, the video to "Alright Guy" that's included in the YouTube playlist is in its edited MTV form.  I also included a link to the uncensored version of the song because I find most censors to be dopes and dicks--although I'm sure some are alright guys.)

I hope everyone has a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

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 a Bonus Album of the Week! (One From the Vault!)

I originally wrote and posted what follows on Facebook on 20 August, 2022.  A lot of it was plagiarized verbatim (from me, by me) from a "Song of the Week" (the "Album of the Week" predecessor) that I emailed to friends and family sometime in 2009.  About a month ago, the album was re-issued in a special 50th anniversary, yellow vinyl edition.  I just finished listening to it a few minutes ago.  I didn't listen to it for a month because it's one of those records that needs to be appreciated under particular circumstances, which finally popped up earlier this evening.  Thought I'd re-share it here...

 

Do yourself a favour right now. Look out your window. Is it dark outside? If not, it may be better if you wait until it is to read this. If you're reading this in a room with no windows, it probably doesn't matter all that much, I suppose. But this week's album and accompanying "sermon" need to be appreciated in a certain ambiance. Or at least that's what this humbly pretentious wannabe writer is hoping for.

 

I used to take late night walks all the time before I had problems with my hips. I still like to do it occasionally, but I don't do it as often as I used to/should. There is a spot on the campus of Indiana University that I loved to go to when I lived in Bloomington, particularly at night, particularly in the fall.   I liked to go there just to ring in the new day. It's the one place I never have to worry about being disturbed for any reason. In fact only two other people would ever think to look for me there and, well, frankly, they're not likely to be interested in doing so.

 

There is something mystical and magical about the night. Is it just me or does the night--specifically that extraordinarily fine line between today and tomorrow--seem more alive than any other time of the day?

 

Whether we realize it or not, I think we've always had a strange fascination with the night. Nocturnal activities are what many of us live for. That's when most of the things that end up meaning the most to us occur. If you look back at your lives, I'm willing to bet that more than half of your fondest memories occurred after dark. It could be just staying up drinking and talking with old friends, it could be a hot date that turns into something hotter later, it could be a formal occasion such as your senior prom, it could be a five hour phone conversation, it could be a night out with family, it could just be a night out. Whatever the circumstances and no matter how meaningful they are, they probably wouldn't have been as exciting if they had occurred during the day.

 

The night sometimes makes us do things we might not normally do. I swear to you, one night at the stroke of midnight, I actually walked outside stark naked and howled at the moon. Looking back on it, I'm not sure why I did it. Maybe I just wanted to be able to say many years later that I'd done something that crazy. Come to think about it, I'm not even sure the moon was out that night.

 

It's an exciting and almost dangerous time. This is the time when it's safe for our deepest, darkest secrets to come out of hiding. We can tell the night all those things we can't tell the day because if the sunlight is allowed to strike those deep, dark secrets, then the rest of the world can see what we work so hard to keep from it. But at night, we can truly be ourselves.

 

I'm also a fan of restaurants and diners that stay open twenty-four hours a day. In my younger days, I would occasionally hop on over to the nearest Steak and Shake for some late night Berry Berry Cobbler a la mode. Unfortunately, Steak and Shake (at least back then) didn't serve French toast. So I would occasionally have to drive way out of my way to the Waffle House which did. Even though it's my favourite breakfast food, I still think French toast tastes best after midnight.  Which brings us to this week's album...

 

No singer inhabits the night quite as naturally or as organically as Tom Waits. His music has provided us over the years with many late night glimpses into the late night--songs full of bars and strip clubs and all night diners and cheap booze and enough cigarette smoke that you could get lung cancer just from listening. With a soul filled with jazz and beat poetry, a language filled with adjectives and a voice of whisky-soaked gravel, it is virtually impossible to listen to Tom Waits's music while the sun is shining. Even his album covers, especially the ones from the 1970s, look like they would turn to dust in broad daylight.

 

This week's particular nocturnal submission is his third album (and the rare live performance). Please enjoy 1975's "Nighthawks At the Diner," which seems to focus precisely on that. I've always been particularly curious about the song "Eggs and Sausage (In a Cadillac with Susan Michelson)." I'm still trying to figure out if "In a Cadillac with Susan Michelson" is a secondary title or if he actually did eat eggs and sausage in a Cadillac with Susan Michelson. These are the kinds of thoughts that go through my head late at night...

 

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!

"The future ain't what it used to be."

--Yogi Berra (1925-2015), baseball legend and philosopher

This past Wednesday, I had the pleasure of seeing Back to the Future in a theater to celebrate its 40th anniversary.  Putting aside the fact that the film is that old, it was an oddly moving experience.  Obviously, I've seen the movie many times over the years, but I hadn't seen it in a theater since its original release.  Before going, I noted the date (5 November) and realized that I would be seeing the movie on the 70th anniversary of the day that Doc Brown slipped and hit his head and came up with the idea for the flux capacitor.  I still marvel at what one can achieve with a head injury.

I've often written in these weekly "sermons" about the "transportative" quality of music (my word, copyright pending)--that strange ability to transport you to another time and place, even if it's just in your own mind.  I don't think I ever realized it before, but films can be as transportative as music.  Watching it on that big screen, I felt like I was eleven years old again and completely entranced with the magic of movies.  I couldn't wait to start sixth grade to tell my friends about this really cool movie I saw--twice!--over the summer starring the guy from "Family Ties."

Seeing it again, I noticed things that I wouldn't have noticed when I was a kid and probably couldn't have noticed watching it on a television screen over the years.  For example, when Marty McFly first walks into the diner and encounters his father, he reaches into his pocket and puts some change on the counter.  If you look among the coins, you'll see a guitar pick.  (I've also frequently wondered how many of those coins were minted after 1955.)

I've always appreciated the filmmakers' attention to detail with regards to the whole idea of the "space-time continuum"--how actions taken by characters in the film can change certain things between the beginning and the end of the movie--like the name of the mall, or the portion of the ledge on the clock tower that broke under Doc's weight.  I don't know why it never occurred to me that Doc hanging off of the clock face was an homage to the 1923 Harold Lloyd film Safety Last!--especially given the fact that Doc had a clock that depicted it in his collection that could be seen at the very beginning of the film.

The whole experience made me nostalgic for my childhood and the 1980s in general.  Watching those parts of the movie set in what was then the present, I found myself wondering if you can still find Kal-Kan dog food or Pepsi Free--not that I would go out and buy either of those things.  I don't have a dog and the only thing more disgusting than Pepsi Free was Diet Pepsi Free, which can also be seen in the film.  It was interesting for me to see how much things changed between 1955 and 1985, but it was almost surreal to see how things have changed between 1985 and 2025.

The one thing I've always credited the film for was my love for the music of Huey Lewis & The News who wrote not one but two songs for the film's soundtrack, receiving an Academy Award nomination for "The Power of Love."  In fact, Lewis also had one of cinema's greatest cameo appearances, telling Marty's band through a bullhorn that they're "just too darn loud."

Nominated for three other Oscars--winning for Best Sound Effects Editing--the film was directed by Robert Zemeckis, who also co-wrote it with Bob Gale, and stars Michael J. Fox, Christopher Lloyd, Lea Thompson, Crispin Glover, and Thomas F. Wilson in what could arguably be described as "career-defining performances."  This week, I can't help recommend one of the biggest movies of my youth, Back to the Future.

As I said in my album rant, I'll be taking next week off from these for personal reasons but will return in two weeks.  Until then, 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