In "Hannah and Her Sisters," Woody Allen's character asks his parents how there could be God in a world with Nazis.
In response, his father barks, "How the hell do I know why there were Nazis? I don't know how the can opener works!"
If you want 100 minutes of variations on that theme, then the Coen brothers' "A Serious Man" is for you. Otherwise, stay away.
Set in a Jewish suburb in 1960s Minnesota--which also happens to be where the Coen brothers grew up--"A Serious Man" focuses on the travails on Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg). A math professor who's up for tenure, Gopnik is faced with anonymous letters which declare him incompetent and a student who insists he accept a bribe for a higher grade. Meanwhile, his wife is sleeping with another man and demanding a divorce. He also lives with a somewhat deranged brother whose violations of the law are escalating. His young son views him as nothing more than a source of money and a TV repairman. And so on.
In short, Gopnik is a cinematic Job, and like that famous figure, he seeks out God to explain his troubles. He visits two rabbis who prove to be comically inept at defending faith. The first asks that Gopnik see the wonder of God in a parking lot, while the second tells the story of a small miracle but fails utterly to glean any insight from it.
These scenes are easily the highlights of the movie. Amidst all the bleakness, they're uproariously funny, while simultaneously posing the question of how a God could punish us in such cruel and random ways.
Unfortunately, the Coens are too busy heaping more abuse on Gopnik to mine that humor or, more importantly, to explore the questions of faith which they're raising. The brothers deserve credit for being honest; they show no illusions of knowing whether God, fate or mere chance are torturing Gopnik. But what is the value of their honesty if they won't use it to make a real inquiry into the nature of faith? The rabbis can't provide a credible defense of religion, while Gopnik is too upright to question it.
With "A Serious Man," the Coens ask, "What's the point?" It's funny--I asked the same thing about this movie.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
MY Top 20 Albums of the Decade
My criteria for this list:
1. Influence on my musical taste
2. Replayability (a word I just made up)
3. General ass-kicking
20. Coldplay, “Parachutes”
Coldplay is not as good as my teenage self believed. Still, as Newsweek said, they were “Oasis without the ego.” At their best, they still are.
19. The Libertines, “Up the Bracket”
Ramshackle garage rock at its finest. I will never understand criticisms of this album.
18. MIA, “Kala”
“Kala” is basically a great hip-hop album; T.I., Jay-Z, Kanye and Lil Wayne proved this by ripping off “Paper Planes” for “Swagga Like Us.” But “Kala” was so inventive that the press couldn’t label it as such. Look past the globe trotting, though, and the album’s formula is pretty simple: great samples, hooks, beats and, yes, plenty of swagger.
17. Feist, “The Reminder”
Feist revealed my taste for pretty female pop with “Let it Die,” but this album was so much better that I had to put it on. It’s playful, delicate and fun without ever being trite.
16. Elliott Smith, “New Moon”
This album introduced me to Smith and Nick Drake. It’s absolutely amazing that he had this many great unreleased songs.
15. Bloc Party, “Silent Alarm”
An early indicator that maybe this dance-rock thing was for me; they got me into the Gang of Four. Just a great album, top to bottom: the songs range from aggressive to moody to beautiful.
14. Beck, “Sea Change”
Props to Sam for helping me re-evaluate this one. At first, I gave it a few listens and discarded it. But I found it surprisingly replayable after Sam’s recommendation. This is our generation’s “Blood on the Tracks.”
13. TV on the Radio, “Dear Science”
These guys reinvent themselves with every album. This time, they aped Prince and Talking Heads. They stay consistent despite changing styles because they’re excellent songwriters. It doesn’t hurt to have rock’s best vocalist, Tunde Adebimpe, and superb production from Dave Sitek.
12. Spoon, “Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga”
My first Spoon album and still the one I like best. Jim Eno’s beats are impeccable. Britt Daniel can do more with a hook and a beat spaced by silence than most bands can do with 14 synthesizers and 29 vocal overdubs.
11. Kings of Leon, “Aha Shake Heartbreak”
Before they were the (often insufferable) southern U2, they were a cross between the Rolling Stones and the Strokes.
10. Clipse, “Hell Hath No Fury”
Clipse got me to appreciate the wordplay in rap. I also love that the Neptunes produced the whole thing; this album has a cohesion that most hip-hop records lack. I’ve also found it to be the most replayable of the admittedly few hip-hop albums I own.
9. Green Day, “American Idiot”
Hipsters can blow me. “Jesus of Suburbia” and “Homecoming,” the two nine-minute numbers, take rock to heights few bands even attempt today.
8. Mclusky, “Mclusky Do Dallas”
Hands down the most kick-ass album of the decade. A punishing rhythm section, piercing guitars, and lyrics that never seem to lose their piss and vinegar.
7. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, “It’s Blitz”
The perfect marriage of dance with rock, this album felt like the culmination of a lot of stuff I’d been listening to this decade.
6. LCD Soundsystem, “Sound of Silver”
If you had told me a few years ago that I would love an artist who makes eight-minute dance songs, I wouldn’t have believed you. But James Murphy has a knack for reeling you in and keeping you interested. His best songs start with great foundations, then slowly evolve till they reach a completely different place. Plus, as “Someone Great” and “New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down” show, he’s become a great songwriter even without four-on-the-floor beats.
5. Kanye West, “College Dropout”
Michael Jackson abused little children and is (rightfully) hailed for his music, but I’m supposed to hate Kanye West’s music because he interrupted a starlet at a meaningless awards show? (This is an awards show where Howard Stern once showed his butt as “Fartman.”)
Oh wait, I forgot, Michael Jackson died, and Kanye insulted a white girl. (Seriously, would there be this much fuss if Alicia Keys had been interrupted?)
Anyway, Kanye’s amazing production skills got me to appreciate rap. Kanye is one of the very few pop stars we have who is pushing the boundaries of music. Thirty years from now, when no one under 40 will know who Taylor Swift is, Kanye’s music will still be influencing artists. That matters more to me as a listener.
4. The White Stripes, “White Blood Cells”
In this decade, Jack White made amazing music with a semi-incompetent drummer. Then he started two other cool bands. He also produced a great album by Loretta Lynn and co-wrote a cool song with Beck. He was also featured in an underrated film (“Coffee and Cigarettes”) and an interesting documentary (“It Might Get Loud”). Plus, he beat the shit out of Von Bondies frontman Jason Stollsteimer. There is nothing this man can’t do.
3. The Arcade Fire, “Funeral”
If this list were just about favorites, not influence, then “Funeral” would top it. A couple other bands reached me first, but no one this decade could top the Arcade Fire for soaring melody and heartfelt emotion. They write their songs from the heart; they are our generation’s U2. (Let’s just hope they don’t become washed-up superstars recycling the same tired formulas.)
Bonus: This album featured the first lyrics to which I could really relate that weren’t about girls sucking.
2. The Strokes, “Is This It”
1. Interpol, “Turn on the Bright Lights”
These are the albums that turned me into a (partial) music snob. They showed me that music could be fun while also being well-made, multi-faceted and thought-provoking (in other words, while not being Creed).
The Strokes broke me into garage rock, but they also showed that things like melody and musicianship didn’t have to go out the window when a band is rocking out. Interpol showed me the wonders of a killer rhythm section.
The notion that good music must be difficult to listen to is simply a myth. Complexity can be a virtue, certainly, but there’s no reason that good tunes can’t also be enjoyable. The Strokes and Interpol sent me in search of music that doesn’t sacrifice quality for fun. It’s a path I look forward to following over the next decade.
1. Influence on my musical taste
2. Replayability (a word I just made up)
3. General ass-kicking
20. Coldplay, “Parachutes”
Coldplay is not as good as my teenage self believed. Still, as Newsweek said, they were “Oasis without the ego.” At their best, they still are.
19. The Libertines, “Up the Bracket”
Ramshackle garage rock at its finest. I will never understand criticisms of this album.
18. MIA, “Kala”
“Kala” is basically a great hip-hop album; T.I., Jay-Z, Kanye and Lil Wayne proved this by ripping off “Paper Planes” for “Swagga Like Us.” But “Kala” was so inventive that the press couldn’t label it as such. Look past the globe trotting, though, and the album’s formula is pretty simple: great samples, hooks, beats and, yes, plenty of swagger.
17. Feist, “The Reminder”
Feist revealed my taste for pretty female pop with “Let it Die,” but this album was so much better that I had to put it on. It’s playful, delicate and fun without ever being trite.
16. Elliott Smith, “New Moon”
This album introduced me to Smith and Nick Drake. It’s absolutely amazing that he had this many great unreleased songs.
15. Bloc Party, “Silent Alarm”
An early indicator that maybe this dance-rock thing was for me; they got me into the Gang of Four. Just a great album, top to bottom: the songs range from aggressive to moody to beautiful.
14. Beck, “Sea Change”
Props to Sam for helping me re-evaluate this one. At first, I gave it a few listens and discarded it. But I found it surprisingly replayable after Sam’s recommendation. This is our generation’s “Blood on the Tracks.”
13. TV on the Radio, “Dear Science”
These guys reinvent themselves with every album. This time, they aped Prince and Talking Heads. They stay consistent despite changing styles because they’re excellent songwriters. It doesn’t hurt to have rock’s best vocalist, Tunde Adebimpe, and superb production from Dave Sitek.
12. Spoon, “Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga”
My first Spoon album and still the one I like best. Jim Eno’s beats are impeccable. Britt Daniel can do more with a hook and a beat spaced by silence than most bands can do with 14 synthesizers and 29 vocal overdubs.
11. Kings of Leon, “Aha Shake Heartbreak”
Before they were the (often insufferable) southern U2, they were a cross between the Rolling Stones and the Strokes.
10. Clipse, “Hell Hath No Fury”
Clipse got me to appreciate the wordplay in rap. I also love that the Neptunes produced the whole thing; this album has a cohesion that most hip-hop records lack. I’ve also found it to be the most replayable of the admittedly few hip-hop albums I own.
9. Green Day, “American Idiot”
Hipsters can blow me. “Jesus of Suburbia” and “Homecoming,” the two nine-minute numbers, take rock to heights few bands even attempt today.
8. Mclusky, “Mclusky Do Dallas”
Hands down the most kick-ass album of the decade. A punishing rhythm section, piercing guitars, and lyrics that never seem to lose their piss and vinegar.
7. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, “It’s Blitz”
The perfect marriage of dance with rock, this album felt like the culmination of a lot of stuff I’d been listening to this decade.
6. LCD Soundsystem, “Sound of Silver”
If you had told me a few years ago that I would love an artist who makes eight-minute dance songs, I wouldn’t have believed you. But James Murphy has a knack for reeling you in and keeping you interested. His best songs start with great foundations, then slowly evolve till they reach a completely different place. Plus, as “Someone Great” and “New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down” show, he’s become a great songwriter even without four-on-the-floor beats.
5. Kanye West, “College Dropout”
Michael Jackson abused little children and is (rightfully) hailed for his music, but I’m supposed to hate Kanye West’s music because he interrupted a starlet at a meaningless awards show? (This is an awards show where Howard Stern once showed his butt as “Fartman.”)
Oh wait, I forgot, Michael Jackson died, and Kanye insulted a white girl. (Seriously, would there be this much fuss if Alicia Keys had been interrupted?)
Anyway, Kanye’s amazing production skills got me to appreciate rap. Kanye is one of the very few pop stars we have who is pushing the boundaries of music. Thirty years from now, when no one under 40 will know who Taylor Swift is, Kanye’s music will still be influencing artists. That matters more to me as a listener.
4. The White Stripes, “White Blood Cells”
In this decade, Jack White made amazing music with a semi-incompetent drummer. Then he started two other cool bands. He also produced a great album by Loretta Lynn and co-wrote a cool song with Beck. He was also featured in an underrated film (“Coffee and Cigarettes”) and an interesting documentary (“It Might Get Loud”). Plus, he beat the shit out of Von Bondies frontman Jason Stollsteimer. There is nothing this man can’t do.
3. The Arcade Fire, “Funeral”
If this list were just about favorites, not influence, then “Funeral” would top it. A couple other bands reached me first, but no one this decade could top the Arcade Fire for soaring melody and heartfelt emotion. They write their songs from the heart; they are our generation’s U2. (Let’s just hope they don’t become washed-up superstars recycling the same tired formulas.)
Bonus: This album featured the first lyrics to which I could really relate that weren’t about girls sucking.
2. The Strokes, “Is This It”
1. Interpol, “Turn on the Bright Lights”
These are the albums that turned me into a (partial) music snob. They showed me that music could be fun while also being well-made, multi-faceted and thought-provoking (in other words, while not being Creed).
The Strokes broke me into garage rock, but they also showed that things like melody and musicianship didn’t have to go out the window when a band is rocking out. Interpol showed me the wonders of a killer rhythm section.
The notion that good music must be difficult to listen to is simply a myth. Complexity can be a virtue, certainly, but there’s no reason that good tunes can’t also be enjoyable. The Strokes and Interpol sent me in search of music that doesn’t sacrifice quality for fun. It’s a path I look forward to following over the next decade.
Up in the Air
"Up in the Air" is the story of a cynic who is taught the power of love. This conceit is at least as old as "A Christmas Carol." Hollywood never seems to tire of recycling it.
But unlike the standard cynic-sees-the-light story, "Up in the Air" has a contemporary resonance. It tackles America's currently pervasive economic anxieties head-on.
About the love story: Ryan Bingham (George Clooney), is a man who abhors being tied down. He spends most of his time traveling the country on business, loathing the rare occasions when he's stuck at his spartan bachelor pad in Omaha. He falls for the lovely Alex (Vera Farminga), in part because she seems just as resistant to commitment as he is.
So far, so formulaic. But Bingham is not just any businessman. He fires people for a living, so that their bosses don't have to do it. His profession makes him seem like a cad, until a young co-worker, Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick), proposes that the firings be done via videoconferencing. Even Bingham recognizes that these employees need a real human being to deliver their terrible news. Bingham takes Keener across the country, demonstrating the shock and devastation expressed by terminated employees.
The two storylines dovetail nicely: as Bingham shows Keener that business should be about more than impersonal efficiency, he also begins to realize that life may have better things to offer than bachelorhood and casual flings. The ending appears to be projected from a mile away, yet "Up in the Air" keeps the audience on its toes.
As with his previous two films, "Thank You for Smoking" and "Juno," director Jason Reitman delivers a bittersweet look at the difficult choices life forces on us. His direction has become less gimmicky and more assured. His shots are based on what's needed for the scene: rapid-fire cuts which show Bingham's clinical approach to travel, a smooth pan as he delivers a motivational speech. He captures the absurdity and harshness of corporate America well, integrating interviews with real-life laid-off workers into the story.
If Reitman deserves a criticism, it's that his films seem a bit stuffed with twists and turns, leaving the viewer slightly rushed. But his commitment to quality filmmaking within the Hollywood juggernaut is encouraging; hopefully, his storytelling will grow more economical with time.
But unlike the standard cynic-sees-the-light story, "Up in the Air" has a contemporary resonance. It tackles America's currently pervasive economic anxieties head-on.
About the love story: Ryan Bingham (George Clooney), is a man who abhors being tied down. He spends most of his time traveling the country on business, loathing the rare occasions when he's stuck at his spartan bachelor pad in Omaha. He falls for the lovely Alex (Vera Farminga), in part because she seems just as resistant to commitment as he is.
So far, so formulaic. But Bingham is not just any businessman. He fires people for a living, so that their bosses don't have to do it. His profession makes him seem like a cad, until a young co-worker, Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick), proposes that the firings be done via videoconferencing. Even Bingham recognizes that these employees need a real human being to deliver their terrible news. Bingham takes Keener across the country, demonstrating the shock and devastation expressed by terminated employees.
The two storylines dovetail nicely: as Bingham shows Keener that business should be about more than impersonal efficiency, he also begins to realize that life may have better things to offer than bachelorhood and casual flings. The ending appears to be projected from a mile away, yet "Up in the Air" keeps the audience on its toes.
As with his previous two films, "Thank You for Smoking" and "Juno," director Jason Reitman delivers a bittersweet look at the difficult choices life forces on us. His direction has become less gimmicky and more assured. His shots are based on what's needed for the scene: rapid-fire cuts which show Bingham's clinical approach to travel, a smooth pan as he delivers a motivational speech. He captures the absurdity and harshness of corporate America well, integrating interviews with real-life laid-off workers into the story.
If Reitman deserves a criticism, it's that his films seem a bit stuffed with twists and turns, leaving the viewer slightly rushed. But his commitment to quality filmmaking within the Hollywood juggernaut is encouraging; hopefully, his storytelling will grow more economical with time.
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