Photos of TV.

Better than real TV.

More awesomeness at http://www.mikesacks.com/wp/photos-of-tv/

There's a "thanks" tag!

Check out www.banknotes365.com , a fascinating compilation of the notes that bank robbers pass to cashiers. Today I learned that bank robbers are often jarringly polite.

Put the money in the bag, now.
Thanks.

male, 25, Five Star Bank, Pavilion NY, 11:30a

TV Review: Stargate: Universe

Stargate: Universe

The Stargate franchise has always been a guilty pleasure of mine. There has always been something about the show... sci-fi which doesn’t take it self too seriously, perhaps? It’s creators, Brad Write and Robert C. Cooper, were able to take sci-fi and fantasy mythology, combine it with a Jess-Wedon-like self-effacing sarcastic whit, add in some healthy doses of not to shabby action, and package it all into a single quick moving serial sci-fi series. No matter how you felt about the show, the original Stargate series, Stargate SG-1, despite many “series finales” in it’s final years, managed to continue on for 10 full years, an impressive feat.

Despite how long the series ran, there were issues with the show. Issues which only got worse with age. Richard Dean Anderson decided to leave the show in its 8th season, and while his replacement was Ben Browder (of Farscape fame), the show just wasn’t the same without Andersons cranky attitude and unwillingness to listen to authority. The spinoff, Atlantis despite having a fresh universe to explore, new characters and some very strong actors, also failed to capture a massive audience and struggled through most of it’s 5 seasons. Add to this, that Battlestar Galactica had brought serious Sci-fi to the front of popular culture and Stargate’s demise was all easy to predict. In the end, Stargate just seemed to light and campy in comparison. What at one point made the show enduring, now suddenly aged it. And so one day in the middle of March 2007, Stargate SG-1 went the way of Startrek: reruns. Less then 2 years later, it’s spin-off, despite frequent appearances from cast-members from the original show (and a certain doctor, from a certain Startrek becoming a regular) Atlantis also came to an abrupt end.

But this wasn’t the end for Stargate. Two direct to DVD movies were used to finish off the storylines of SG-1 that were left open by the shows sudden cancellation. (There are rumours of more in the mix, but those have apparently been postponed). And believe it or not, the movies weren’t that bad, but in comparison to BSG, they just didn’t have the same grit and realism and in the end they didn’t have the ability to the draw audience in.

But this still wasn’t the end because Write and Cooper weren’t done with the Stargate universe yet. They had the idea of a new series in which a group of individuals would be trapped millions of light years away from earth on a ship. The show would follow this group as they struggled to survive and find a way home (sound familiar?). Originally pitched prior to the writer’s strike, the show finally went into production earlier this year and just reached air in early October. Now, here’s the real surprise….it’s really good!

Sure, the plot isn’t exactly original but everything else about this show feels fresh and new. Ok, maybe fresh and new are not the write words…because quiet frankly everything about this show feels like a combination of Stargate and Battlestar Galatica. Despite that, it works. Write and Cooper have obviously learned from BSG. Stargate: Universe is darker, meaner, and generally more human. Characters, rather then tech, drive the stories forward and aliens have only made minor appearances so far. The show is, at least for the moment, not episodic, but instead many of the major story arcs take place over several episodes. While the plot doesn’t have the complexity of BSG, SGU has found a nice medium between serial and episodic storytelling. Here’s hoping they keep it that away.

Another BSG influence is the inclusion of a more realistic vision of space travel. Earlier Stargates relied on a Startrek style of space: big ships moving slow, small ships moving only slightly faster. There were almost never any scenes of real movement or energy in any of the Startrek or Stargate series'. BSG, on the other hand, used the model of realistic Newtonian physics for movements in space. Suddenly ships appeared to react to actual physics and no longer moved on a single plane through space. SGU, in an attempt to not forget where it has come from has taken it’s old model of space and added some BSG elements into it. Suddenly ships are moving faster and in three dimensions. As well, large ships are finally being given a context on screen that makes them look as large as they are suppose to be. Add to all of this that they are doing some very nice CG work and space in a Stargate has never looked so good.

Also making the transition from BSG to SGU is the documentary style camera. BSG’s camera work has always been hard to explain, but it basically felt as if a documentary camera crew was embedded within the BSG world and was filming events as they occurred. The camera was almost always handheld which meant shakes, missed focuses and plenty of mid shot zooms. The camera reacted to whatever was occurring on screen (such as shaking with explosions) and had a very organic feel to it. It was kind of like watching one of the Borne Trilogy movies… however I always felt that BSG had a less intrusive and less nauseating feel. SGU has taken BSG's camera work, missed focuses and intimate closeups and all, and made it their own. Visually speaking, SGU doesn’t have the same rugged feeling as BSG, and sometimes some of the camera movements feel a bit too deliberate, but in the end, it works with the show and that’s what matters.

Perhaps, what will give this show it’s best chance at survival - since the Space Network seems to be doing everything it can to kill it by airing it on Friday nights - is the acting. SGU has an impressive list of B+ TV and character actors. Robert Carlyle (best known from The Full Monty) leads the cast that includes Lou Diamond Phillips (I’m a celebrity….get me out of here!...ok…he’s done lots of other stuff as well), Justin Louis, Ming-Na (Two and a Half Men), and Jamil Walker Smith, to name but a few. Sure most of them are not household - or even industry - names, but they are all surprisingly good. Even David Blue, who plays the role of the comic-relief/math guy who wasn’t supposed to be there, works well (although I think the show should have darkened his character up a bit more).

All in all, the new series is worth watching. It feels like a mash up of Stargate SG-1 and Startrek: Voyager but grown up a bit. Sure it’s not perfect, but nothing is. Give it a few episodes and see if you can turn it off…I can’t. While it doesn’t fill the hole that was left in my heart at the end of Battlestar Galatica, it’s a step in the right direction. And I’ll take what ever I can get with this really weak season of TV.

Movie Review: Paranormal Activity (2007)

Paranormal Activity (2007)

Determining whether a film will be decent or not is always a tricky deal, but in 2009 it’s really been anyone’s game (a game involving throwing darts blindfolded and people bobbing for apples in a pool). Many of the films that we all had such high hopes for have been disappointments (9 (2009), Zombieland (2009), etc.), while movies we thought would be absolute crap turned out to be not too shabby (Law Abiding Citizen (2009), Surrogates (2009), etc.); hell, Uwe Boll is getting the best reviews of his career with Rampage (2009)! However, if there is anything systematic to come out of this chaos, it’s the triumph of the newbie’s, mavericks, left-fielders, and/or revisionists, and their philosophy of less-is-more, which is responsible for making not only the best movies of 2009, but of the decade (possibly more). Whether it’s the Duncan Jones freshman effort Moon (2009), or veteran Kathryn Bigelow’s reemerging The Hurt Locker (2008), better movies were made for less, generating greater profit margins for those who truly deserved and needed them. Prior to the fall season, the greatest success belonged to the excellent District 9 (2009), a $30 million film that certainly made its money back during the theatrical release (and then some)! But now, in the Halloween season, the bar has been lowered/raised again, in the form of Paranormal Activity (2007).

For a film that cost $15,000 to make and is well on its way to reaching the $90 million mark at the time of this writing, you could say that the profit margin is looking pretty good for the filmmakers (we’re talking 70s porn numbers here)! But then again, it took years for the film to see the dark of night. The viral marketing campaign certainly paid off, and the gradual daisy chain of important people that finally passed the film up to Czar Spielberg is not without merit; however, without the internet, Paranormal Activity would still probably be just a small film that was a consuming investment for first time filmmaker Oren Peli (formerly of the gaming world). Despite all of this, what the bottom line comes down to is that all the hype/buzz/tingling is justified, because Paranormal Activity is actually an excellent horror movie, one that will actually scare you.

For the few unaware, Paranormal Activity presents the final days of young couple Katie (Katie Featherston) and Micah (Micah Sloat) in the form of archival footage shot by Micah himself. The ending was a given anyway, but the real fun is how they get there. Essentially, Katie has been periodically experiencing a strange presence since she was eight. Now in her late 20s, and three years into a relationship with Micah, the presence has returned, and it certainly feels evil. In an attempt to both help his girlfriend and radiate his machismo, Micah buys a camera and starts to film everything at night by placing it at the foot of their bed. From there on in, things get weird, and continue to do so until the inevitable happens. In essence, the thin plot dissolves into watching the couple spiral out of control and into madness, where a demonic force is no doubt waiting. In the end, a lot of things go bump in the night.

Filmed with one camera on one set with unknown actors, the film puts more faith in the power of suggestion then most films would dare, but it’s a gamble and gambit that truly works, for the benefit of everyone. The grainy images from the camera reinforce the current obsession within digital culture of broadcasting oneself. It’s like The Blair Witch Project (1999) for the decade of YouTube and MySpace. It’s not to say that the camera is sentient, but more like a confessional (a la reality TV, no surprises there), where we’re just talking to ourselves, but we need a lens to listen. Of course, you don’t have to go far to find the social commentary, but that’s what makes it even more terrifying; everything feels real, and so the fear is real. But as an extra punch, just to raise the fear a bit more, the filmmakers employ a small but incredibly convincing array of special effects that will make you wonder not just how the hell they did that on such a budget, but how the hell they did that period.

In the end, Paranormal Activity makes for a film that truly gets under your skin. All the reflections and reflexes aside, the film reduces everything about a horror movie down to its primal fear, and then it throws it at the camera, literally. All that’s left is dread, even when the lights come up.

4/5

McS

Album Review: Cracker - Kerosene Hat (1993)

Cracker - Kerosene Hat (1993)

Cracker certainly had a couple of hits on their hands (“Teen Angst (What the World Needs Now)” and “Happy Birthday to Me”) from their excellent 1992 eponymous debut, but a mere year later they had an absolute smash in “Low.” While the song displayed more of an alt-rock sensibility, its delivery held fast to the band’s original attitude, not to mention the essence of weed and alcohol. In taking all of the folk-rock bravado, blues-rock swagger, and humorously ironic lyricism from Cracker and giving it a bit more polish, a little less twang, and a good extra dose of electric crunch, the band forged their definitive album with Kerosene Hat (1993).

The opening onslaught of “Low,” “Movie Star,” and “Get Off This” is undeniably the strongest of any Cracker album before or since; all three are instant classics, setting the tone for and incredibly strong album. Even when the slower songs arrive, such as the fantastically absurd title track or the refreshingly honest “I Want Everything,” the good times are still to be had. The most amazing thing about Kerosene Hat is its ability to just be a fun record throughout, even more so than their debut. This is archetypal Cracker, as virtually every album since has ascribed to this formula. The rockers, cruisers, ballads, and shuffles are all firmly established here in their finest form, often duplicated but unfortunately never replicated on the band’s subsequent efforts. David Lowery’s lyrics are at their abstruse best, always dry, but loving every minute; John Hickman’s guitar has the perfect presence (in addition, his offering “Lonesome Johnny Blues” is one of the albums most hilarious track, not to mention it being the self-referential offering); David Faragher’s bass is at its beefiest, with his writing contributions providing additional meat (see the romping genius of “Sweet Potato”). But the real killer here, however, is the plodding “Euro Trash Girl,” one of the several hidden tracks at the end of the album and the Cracker song to end all Cracker songs (their definitive song on their definitive album).

All in all, it’s difficult to really say more about Kerosene Hat besides it being fantastic. If there was ever a one stop shop for Cracker, I would say pick this up and leave the various best of compilations on the shelf. That’s not to say that Cracker didn’t produce anything good after, far from it, this is just probably the best place to start for the uninitiated. Kerosene Hat is not only a well made record, it’s also perfectly timed, arriving through a window in the alt-rock scene that was ideal for an album of its kind, before pop and post-grunge threatened the musical landscape of folk-rock. While this is certainly a contributing factor to the subsequent decline of Cracker, their 1996 follow-up The Golden Age just wasn’t that good. Kerosene Hat would also be Faragher’s final outing with the band, making sort of the end of Cracker’s golden age (now isn’t that ironic)! In the end, Kerosene Hat is Cracker at its best, right before the bottom fell out!

4/5

McS

Movie Review: Zombieland (2009)

Zombieland (2009)

A few years ago, the comedy-horror genre was given a champion with Edgar Wright's Shaun of the Dead (2004). Both touching and hilariously hyperbolic, the film is a cinematic force to be reckoned with, remaining unsurpassed in 2009, despite the much touted challenger Zombieland. Even on its own, Zombieland is a bit of a disappointment relative to its own buzz, a condition that seems to be making waves in 2009.

Despite the movie’s ultimate flaccidity, Zombieland gets off to the right start, with director Ruben Fleischer weaving together alternating vignettes of the primary “narrative” involving the protagonist Columbus (played by a dependable Jesse Eisenberg, a.k.a. Ellen Page’s male doppelganger), his/the world’s back-story, and the learned lessons on survival in “Zombieland”. And there in lies the early genius of Zombieland: the meta nature of the film’s zombie concept, grounded in more than a half-century of zombie knowledge from its critical discussion and representation in film. As terrifying as a zombie outbreak would be, the lessons we’ve learned from the frustration of watching the dumbass victims in past films are on full display, with Columbus deconstructing these mistakes and isolating their stupidity. What’s left is basically a dramatization of the recent works of Max Brooks; the real plot doesn’t even matter (and that’s really just people surviving while travelling to their respective destinations, hence the characters’ names being cities). All of this is incredibly enjoyable (and strangely logical), especially when Columbus meets up with Tallahassee (a fantastically zany Woody Harrelson). Together, they make sport out of killing the undead, and I can’t imagine a better way of spending my time. But alas, it can’t last. Eventually Columbus and Tallahassee meet up with the curiously scheming sisters Wichita (Emma Stone) and Little Rock (Abigail Breslin), where carnal emotions then come into the mix. Columbus is naturally smitten with Wichita, providing an amusing but unnecessary sub plot. From this point on, the film’s zombie killing and clever inward eye take a backseat; instead, there is a segment involving Bill Murray that arguably does more harm than good, as the film’s prior momentum is essentially “double-tapped.” The film never really recovers from this, and the initial survival logic is basically disregarded, resulting in a conclusion that makes no sense whatsoever and is only mildly entertaining.

In the end, Zombieland follows the recently familiar path of having a neat concept yet ultimately being unable to fully live up to its hype; it just needs more! And despite an excellent first half, the film’s third quarter derailment is permanent. All in all, however, Zombieland is not a bad film, it’s just not what it should have been; I mean, you know there’s a bit of a problem when you leave a movie called Zombieland wanting more zombies… right?

3/5

McS

For your Halloween edification!

Wonderful, supernatural, collective nouns.

via Joanne Casey.

Happy Halloween

Here's a few horror movies that you probably have not seen just in time for Halloween:

10) Critters (1986)

Okay, if you know me than I have probably made you sit through this Gremlins cash-in. Of all the post-Gremlins-puppet-creature-features, this was arguably the best. It features a fun mix of horror and comedy, and a ridiculously dorky Billy Zane.

9) Hellraiser: Inferno (2000)

Inferno is by far the best of the Hellraiser movies. I liked it better than the first. Part of that is because Pin-Head doesn't make much of an appearance in this one. Inferno is a dark, very dark, psychological thriller disguised as a horror movie. That's no surprise considering the script on which this sequel was based was not a Hellraiser script. Pin-Head was added later. Nevertheless, this is a surprisingly taut thriller, with surprises abound.

8) Dog Soldiers (2002)

This is a surprisingly entertaining British werewolf movie featuring solid performances from a number of young actors before they got big(ger). The film never takes itself seriously and you will have tons of fun if you take it for what it is. Director Neil Marshall would go on to direct the critical horror hit, The Descent.

7) Deathwatch

This is another straight-to-DVD British horror gem that almost got away. If you like World War One psychological horror films with a heavy dose of allegory, then this baby is for you.

6) Opera (1987)

Okay, Dario Argento is screwed up. Many of his films feature nudity from his own daughter, Asia. Nevertheless, Opera is one hell of a film (and Asia Argento is thankfully absent). Argento has always been fascinated by The Phantom of the Opera. His own cinematic version of that story was horrendous, yet Opera, an homage made several years before he got his chance to direct Phantom, is creepy and beautiful: everything Phantom should have been. It features one of the most bizarrely entertaining death scenes I have ever seen (watch for the peep-hole). I recommend Opera for that scene alone.

5) Exorcist III (1990)

This disturbing and restrained sequel was not nearly the disaster that was the first Exorcist sequel (nor the later prequels). Director and writer of the book (and the writer of the original Exorcist book), William Peter Blatty pushed for the studio to change the name, but alas, they refused and the film had a mediocre performance at the box office. Why Blatty didn't direct more horror is beyond me. He displayed a real talent in this film for capturing very simple, very terrifying moments on film. I may have liked this more than the original. There, I said it. what are you going to do about it?

4) Black Christmas (1974)

I put this one on here as an alternative to John Carpenter's Halloween. Black Christmas is the first true slasher movie. Made in 1994, the film had a typical ambiguous ending, leaving viewers to ask if Bob Clark, the director, had a sequel planned. In one interview, Clark said that, although he had no plans to direct a sequel, he did have an idea for its plot. Clark's sequel involved the Black Christmas psycho being caught and taken to a mental hospital, only to break out on Halloween and terrorize the survivor of the first movie. Four years later, John Carpenter released Halloween, and everybody forgot about this darker, superior, Canadian film.

3) Psycho II (1992)

I feel sorry for the poor bastard who was tasked with directing the sequel to Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho, one of the great film masterpieces of all time. Nonetheless, if it had to be done, this is the best anyone ever could have expected. Psycho II is an unsurprisingly underrated film. It is heavy on suspense and thrills, but is also a clever character study. We catch up with Norman 20 years after the events of the original movie. He is released from the hospital, supposedly cured, and tries to settle back into life. He reopens the hotel and must deal with local townsfolk who refuse to give him a second chance. And then mother comes home. Psycho II has a brilliant final scene that rivals the finale of the original.

2) Eyes Without a Face (1960)

This old French mad-scientist film has an artsy touch. It also features some incredible make-up effects given the time period. The plot centers on a doctor who is trying hopelessly restore his daughter's face to its original beauty, after she was disfigured in a car accident. When traditional procedures fail him, he decides to try a radical new procedure: face transplantation. But where does the doctor get these new faces I wonder?

1) Cemetery Man (1994)

If you haven't seen it, see it. It's good.

Professor P

Album Review: Sarah Slean - The Baroness (2008)

Sarah Slean - The Baroness (2008)

Oh to be five years older, then I could court this fair Canadian songstress in all of her cabaret glory, especially now that her heart is finally out on her sleeve. Besides her pixie-like beauty and mystical presence, Sarah Slean is an excellent pianist and songwriter, and nowhere is that more apparent than on her 2008 exposé The Baroness.

Part autobiography, part cautionary tale on love, The Baroness is a stark musical departure from Slean’s last studio effort, the slightly bombastic Day One (2004). With Day One, Slean was able to infuse elements of rock and electronica with her signature cabaret presence, creating an incredibly enjoyable city of colorful music. However, over the next four years that city crumbled. In its ruins emerges a weathered soul, which is fiercely independent but admittedly lonely, as the ghost-like beauty of the cover art would suggest (let alone the album title’s reference of barren emptiness itself). Slean has always referenced the trials of love in her songs, but she usually channeled it through anecdotes, stories, and metaphors on a veil of bright music. Here, however, everything has been stripped, leaving only Sarah and her most personal feelings. Every song cuts deep, rolling along somber waves of bare yet organic instrumentation and production. Sarah’s piano is as haunting as her voice, and together they travel through love’s void. Occasionally, the guitar, bass, and drums chime in, but nothing ever really rocks, it just floods. While the music might not be as fun as before, it’s nonetheless arresting, like an arrow through the heart.

Lyrically, the songs range from darkly cynical to absolutely heartbreaking, such as shattering “Get Home” and the exuberant “Euphoria,” a pair of songs that tackle the schizophrenic aftermath of a one night stand (where else could you find something like that?). Slean’s cabaret spirit still exists on “Goodnight Trouble,” but it feels more like a funeral procession with horns, while “Notes From The Underground” rings to a desperate beat of ultimate loneliness. Another highlight is “Willow,” an aching ballad that provides a dependable beauty to dependable imagery. However, nothing is as all consuming or as defeating as “Shadowland,” where Sarah confesses her daemons and cries for the protection of love in a vein not all dissimilar from a somber Kate Bush armed with a piano. Fortunately, an optimistic silver lining appears with the gospel-like closing “Looking for Someone,” which is almost a too literal title, but I can’t actually believe that she needs to look for someone, I mean she had me at day one (bwahahah… *tear*).

It’s a harrowing collection, devastating at times, like a cathartic exorcism, but the warm melodies linger in a strange comforting way, as if to suggest that heartache and loneliness are just winter vistas that reoccur but never last forever (how Canadian!). In the end, Ms. Slean/The Baroness has given us a clear window to her soul, and I swear to God, if I ever find those responsible…

4/5

"I have been to the shadowland / I heard the empty call / Of hatred, anorexia / Misery and alcohol"

McS

Movie Review: 9 (2009)

9 (2009)

Now here’s a movie that really should’ve been excellent. It had a really original concept; it was based on an Oscar nominated short; it was helmed by the same director of that short; it was produced by some of Hollywood’s most creative elite; it had an impressive cast providing the character voices; and it had substantial momentum behind it. However, despite all of these assets, despite all of the buzz and hype, Shane Acker’s post-apocalyptic animated feature 9 is ultimately a disappointment.

9 attempts to tell the story about a collective of nine sentient “dolls” learning to survive in the aftermath of a world devastated by total war between man and machine. Needless to say, the machines won and the world is void of humanity (as far as we can tell). The film essentially begins with the awakening of #9 (the ninth and supposedly last doll to be created, voiced by Elijah Wood), who wastes no time in starting to decode the reasons for its existence. Almost immediately, #9 meets up with the wise #2 (Martin Landau), who only has a moment to update #9 before being captured by a larger more predatory robot made of metal and bone. #9 is eventually found by the primary collective of remaining dolls, which is led by the “god-fearing” #1 (Christopher Plummer). In an attempt to rescue #2, #9 awakens the machine boss, providing the dolls with a battle for survival for the remainder of the film. Think of the movie as an animated version of Virus (1999), set in the Desert of the Real from The Matrix (1999); just substitute the humans with dolls and pretty much keep the script the same, minus the philosophical debates…“Whoa!”

While a po-apo scenario is obviously nothing new, the concept of miniature self-aware non-human creations in a post human world seems quite interesting; however, none of that really matters as the film’s story is so poorly executed and themes so mismanaged. First of all, the film is too short; not that I wanted to keep watching it, but there was just no time for adequate character development. And that’s a problem because a film like this, with an otherwise unoriginal plot, needs to be more character driven to be successful. While the dolls are each meant to embody a shade of the human emotional spectrum, no soul comes through, and the characters remain as colorless as the world around them. This is the fault of a script that is both wooden and insufficient (in a too-much-or-not-enough kind of situation). There should have been more to it, or absolutely nothing at all (Acker’s original short had no dialogue whatsoever). The less-is-more dialogue approach has certainly worked in this vein before, just look at WALL·E (2008) and The Iron Giant (1999). It’s really no surprise then that 9’s most endearing characters are the two dolls that don’t speak (#3 and #4, who are effectively projectionist databanks). Despite all of this, the film’s true crime is in its botched story, where the various themes and philosophies contradict one another to the point of Matrix sequel pain (this is all fully realized in the film’s final quarter). Even if you don’t care about 9’s philosophical elements, you will still find the story’s resolution just plain stupid.

Visually, the film is fairly interesting, but certainly nothing revolutionary. Recently, we’ve come to expect certain visual triumphs from the animation powerhouses of Pixar and DreamWorks, and 9 can’t fully live up to that. The post apocalyptic landscape is sufficient, yet it doesn’t evoke the same sense of complete desolation that was so perfectly conveyed in WALL·E; indeed, 9 is quite claustrophobic, which would have been fine had the film not changed its philosophical course in its final third. The character design is quite original, but nothing mind-bending, which you would most certainly expect from something produced by Tim Burton. In fact, despite the initial resemblance to The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), 9 almost seems too straight for Burton fare, lacking that weird vibe that can only be described as Burton (and you all know exactly what I’m talking about). Still, the film might be too scary for little kinds and too frustrating for adults, which is most puzzling.

All in all, 9 really should have been excellent, and I find it difficult to believe that it wasn’t. It just proves that even if you have the right cooks and the right ingredients, the meal can still ultimately fail if the recipe sucks… voilà!

2.5/5

McS

Album Review: Muse -The Resistance (2009)

There is a lot a Muse fan could dislike about The Resistance. Typical Muse fair, such as Chris’s heavy distorted bass lines, and Matt’s falsetto vocals and heavy guitar riffs all take a back seat on this fifth studio album. In their stead is an album that is filled with a swelling orchestra and a more held back simplistic feel despite the addition of some 20 extra instruments. In essence the album feels more simplistic and stripped down despite a more audacious design. This could be the closest Muse has come to a concept album (Apparently they declared before it's release that they were trying new things, so no huge surprises).

Muse is no stranger to songs relying on Matt’s paranoia about aliens, government conspiracies, brainwashing and cover-ups. The Resistance only strives to take this a step forward with Matt stating in the liner notes that many of the songs are based on books such as George Orwell’s 1984. Upon listing to even the first song on the album it’s hard to miss the connection between Muse and an Orwellian universe.

The album opens with their first single, Uprising. The title tells you what you are in for: a heavy rock march with Matt singing about paranoia and preaching that “they will not control us”. This is perhaps the most Muse like song on the entire album. Chris (Bass and vocals) and Dominic (Drums) pound out the heaviest rhythm section of the entire album. Matt’s vocals hold the song together, and only towards the end does his guitar playing show up. His solo is perhaps a bit weaker then normal for him, but it suits the song nicely. While the solo works, it is a shame that he doesn’t push himself for more, since there is so little lead guitar on the rest of the album.

Following up Uprising is the title track, Resistance, which starts off with a string and kettle drum section that could fit into any sci-fi/action movie soundtrack. Eventually the pace picks up and loads up into a song, which Matt based entirely on the love relationship between the two main characters of 1984: Winston and Julia. It’s a strong song, but it could be easy to miss that it was Muse who wrote and performed it.

Undisclosed Desires, the next song on the album is where things get a bit weird. Influenced by modern R’n’B and a bit of David Bowie this song bares almost no resemblance to any Muse outing before it. It starts with plucking strings and a smooth beat mixed with a bit of synth and then really goes no where else, except for some more synth during the chorus. It is perhaps the least Muse like song on the album and as Matt described it, “it is something totally different for the band.”

The next few songs jump all over the musical horizon. The first half of United States of Eurasia, sounds remarkably like Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, but then changes quickly to feature a more middle-eastern style of music. It finishes with a Nocturne in E-flat – a rather slow and beautiful classical piano piece. This blends directly into Guiding Light, which starts off like the Killers, ends like U2 and features a Queen style guitar solo.

Perhaps realizing that they may have left behind what could be considered Muse style music, the next song Unnatural Selection returns to a more typical Muse rock sound. However, even this song, which features a lead guitar riff that bears resemblance to New Born, still can’t escape sounding a bit like another band…in this case System of a Down. Mk Ultra, the next track, remains sounding very much like Muse but isn’t exactly memorable. I belong to you (+ Mon Coeur S’ouvre a Ta Voix) is perhaps the most unusual piece on the entire album. Influenced by “silly circus sounds” and Sgt. Peppers, this piece can only be described as Matt and the guys having some fun with a jazz flair. However, before moving on there are two important points about this song that must be made. Firstly, the middle of the song incorporates an aria from the 19^th century Opera Samson and Dellah, which is blended into the song seamlessly. Secondly, this is only the second rock song that I know of to incorporate a bass clarinet solo (the first being a song about rocks…).

Muse could have ended the album at this point which would have left the audience with a handful of strong if somewhat un-muse like songs and a very strong desire to go back to listen to either of their last two albums to get their Muse fix. However, the album includes 3 more songs (or in reality 3 parts of the same song). Matt wrote a 3 part symphony which alone makes buying and listening to this album worth it. Exogenesis, which features a story of destruction and redemption, is absolutely beautiful. The base of all three songs is that of a typical orchestra - strings, brass and percussion - but also contains more contemporary instruments, such as electric guitar, bass and haunting vocals. All three pieces include piano sections from classical composers that are blended in perfectly. Even if you don’t like the rest of the album, spend sometime listing to the symphony - You won’t regret it.

The first time I listened to The Resistance I was disappointed. All the elements that had drawn me to Muse were either gone or nearly muted. The second time I listened to it, I started to hear the subtleties of the album. The third time I couldn’t stop listening to it. Sure there are weak songs - Undisclosed Desires for one - but the strong pieces -Uprising, Resistance, and the symphony, Exogenesis - more then make up for them.

After listening to the album more then a dozen times over the last week, I can’t quite help feeling that Muse entered into the making of this album wanting to do something different. Perhaps they wanted to take a break from the heavy rock, or perhaps they just wanted to give the classical elements of their music the front row it deserved. Either way, they have created an album that is both strong and impressive…it just may take a few listens to realize it.

- Far Side

Album Review: Cracker - Greenland (2006)

Album Review: Cracker - Greenland (2006)

In listening to the lyrics of “Ain’t Gonna Suck Itself” (the only original track on Cracker’s 2003 covers album Countrysides), it’s clear that after 2002’s Forever, the band was dropped and effectively screwed over by Virgin Records, the major label they had been with since their debut a decade prior. At that point, the band could have gone in several directions. First, it could fold; second, it could retaliate immediately with an angry and mediocre album; third, it could find a solution, so they found a solution… Actually, in all seriousness they took the long but high road, effectively cooling off for a period of years while the bitterness lost its sting. This is a precarious path, as it runs the risk of the audience forgetting the band, but for a band like Cracker, any fans that remained at this point would prolly remain forever (pun semi intended even though this is about a different album). Still, after three long years in the wilderness, Cracker re-emerged in 2006 with what is undoubtedly their most ambitious and mature work to date; enter the Greenland.

For a band that spent most of their career churning out records that relied heavily on alcohol and irony (and not to mention tongues planted firmly in cheeks), it’s ironic in itself that they should find sincerity with their career lying bloody and unconscious on a bar room floor. But listening to the opening shuffle of the surprisingly poignant “Something You Ain’t Got” reveals a sort of melancholy that permeates the album. The album doesn’t rock, but instead marches to a sort of funeral procession, one indicative of Cracker’s post-2000 misfortunes. Absent are the usual punk-folk blitzes; gone are the pleasantly drunken ballads; barely to be found are the mid-tempo cruisers. Instead we have an ironically sobering collage of indie-psychedelic songs that swirl, drone, and combust. Johnny Hickman’s iconic blues lead guitar is practically untraceable, replaced here with layered organs and dissonance, which is almost blasphemous. While the band certainly started expanding its musical horizons with Forever, Greenland feels like a conscious commitment to change, not an inconsistent spattering of half-assed stylistic flirtations. It’s the first Cracker album of its kind, and quite possibly the last. For a band that cut most of its albums from the same cloth, this is an atypical surprise right out of left field. Indeed, the only thing truly Cracker about it are the obtuse lyrics of David Lowery, but even here they seem to have more weight and less humor. This all being said, however, Greenland is an excellent Cracker album.

Anomalous even outside of the Cracker universe is the fact that the album is amazingly dense and ambitious for a freshmen indie release. But it works so well; the songs flow together in a way previously inconceivable for a Cracker release. It’s the closest the band has come to a concept album, and while it’s essentially a self-serving concept, songs like “Where Have Those Days Gone” and “I Need Better Friends” sparkle with a self-awareness through a wake mentality. The darker epics, “Sidi Ifni” and “Minotaur” feel like journeys through Hades, while “Better Times Are Coming Our Way” trudges like a post-apocalyptic chant. Only on the other side of this sonic abyss does the Cracker we know and love seem to make an appearance. With the Cracker current events update “Everybody Gets One For Free” and the album closer “Darling We’re Out Of Time,” said band seems to come out of the haze, albeit a little older and wiser.

In the end, it’s difficult to know what to make of Greenland. It’s definitely one of the band’s best albums, maybe even their best; but it’s so different that comparing it to their standard classics (i.e. Cracker (1992) and Kerosene Hat (1993)) seems erroneous. Also, given the fact that the band has since returned to its musical roots with Sunrise in the Land of Milk And Honey (2009), Greenland feels more and more like a wondrous fluke that logically shouldn’t be the work of Cracker. Whatever pains the band has gone through; this is a testament to their resolve and survivalism. With that, it’s prolly just safer to leave it at this: Cracker took a long hard cold trip to Greenland, and then they came back.

4/5

"I know that our last record / Didn’t do very well / But now we’re back on the block / With our freedom rock"

McS

TV Show Review: Disney's Adventures of the Gummi Bears - Season 2 (1986)

TV Show Review: Disney's Adventures of the Gummi Bears - Season 2 (1986)

With the initial round [season one] of Gummi Bears, Disney proved that they could produce a cartoon television series that held an underlying narrative. Of course, this was at a time before such series existed, but they managed it, combining classic Disney knowhow with the new medium, which resulted in a show that both educated and entertained. The success of this trial run was rewarded with not one but five subsequent seasons, which ran the course of the show’s intended story arc, making it the longest running Disney series of its kind to date, and deservedly so. It seems rare (especially now) that quality prevails, but fortunately, in season two, it’s clear that Disney knew what it had and that they weren’t going to let it go.

Leaner and meaner, season two has fewer episodes than before, but nearly all of them deal with the primary story arc. It’s not to say that season one had filler episodes, because most of those stand alones provided useful character development. But that was the point of season one, to introduce the series. Season two, on the other hand, can’t just be a holding pattern, it needs to propel the story while offering new challenges, and that is exactly the case here. The technical development is also apparent at the very onset of season two. While season one had a crude yet sufficient animation style, season two feels smoother and more refined. The backgrounds are richer and the colors are warmer. In addition, the character animation is more realized, with improved movement and a greater attention to detail. Even the sound is better! The action scenes are more complex and the storyboards are more intricate, all without losing any of the creativity. In fact, there’s even more creativity, with a higher degree of focus to contain all of the show’s assets. All in all, it’s clear that Disney was throwing more money at the series, and the creators were using it wisely.

If season one dealt with introducing the Gummi Bears to humans (both the audience and the internal characters), then season two deals with the Gummi Bears addressing this exposure. The excitement and optimism previously exhibited by the bears in the first season has now given way to frustration and a greater degree of loneliness. Despite having made friends with a select few human, so much more is at stake as the villain Duke Igthorn is no longer in the dark about the existence of both the bears and their power. Indeed, the frequency and severity of skirmishes between the bears and Igthorn’s forces has increased from before, yet the bears must continue to hide from the humans of Dunwyn as it would only complicate an already complicated situation.

Another interesting aspect of season two is its inward eye. Both the myth of the Gummies and the individual characters are deconstructed and reinforced. If the bears weren’t considered quasi-superheroes before, it’s certainly a possibility now, as their planning, evading, fighting, and magic skills have all significantly developed out of necessity (that and also that there’s more to their lives than simply hiding and surviving). This point becomes all the more relevant when the young male Cubbi channels his longing knighthood ambitions into a hyperbolic superhero alter ego (superego if you will), the Crimson Avenger, which allows Cubbi to fight his way into the hearts and minds of Dunwyn’s residents, with his masked appearance being a more acceptable concept for humans (and the only way Cubbi can roam free in broad daylight). Other interesting circumstances include the villain sidekick Toadie developing a soft spot for the young female Sunni after she cautiously saves his life. Even the character of Duke Igthorn is addressed, where we find out that his childhood home still exists in a condemned state within Dunwyn. Like all good stories, more questions are raised than answered, creating several interesting plotlines for future seasons to resolve.

The most significant and enticing quandary of the season is, not surprisingly, the original one, the Gummies themselves, and the hook for season two is that it’s bookended by the appearance of two new bears. In the season opener “Up, Up, and Away,” we are introduced to Chummi, a solo adventurer traveling by zeppelin in search of the Gummi civilization across the sea. When his airship is attacked by Igthorn, the Gummi Glen Gummies (as the original six are now known by) take him in. Once the airship is repaired, Chummi resumes his journey, unable to physically take all of the Glen Gummies with him. This no doubt sets the tone for the season. In the season finale “My Gummi Lies over the Ocean,” Tummi builds a boat that takes him and Gruffi to an isolated volcanic island where they meet and take home the artistic and slightly crazy Gusto, and his pet toucan Artie Deco. What’s really interesting here is the discovery of other isolated Gummies, and the suggestion of other isolated Gummi collectives, like the Glen Gummies. This, of course, is great fuel for the next season. In the end, season two leaves both the Gummies and the audience with an insatiable hunger to learn the extent of the Gummi mystery, something that only gets better over the next four years.

McS

Album Review: The Wallflowers - Bringing Down the Horse (1996)

The Wallflowers - Bringing Down the Horse (1996)



Maybe it was a good thing that The Wallflower’s 1992 self-titled debut was a commercial disappointment; maybe it was a good thing that most of the band departed in the aftermath of their label dropping them, but it would have been a difficult crossroads. Most bands might have just called it a day, saying that they had made a solid effort but that it was time to grow up and do something real. The very fact that they had made a major label album in impressive enough, so bowing out then would have certainly been a very logical choice, and not at all dishonorable. Of course, no such towel was thrown. Thank God!

Opting to take the ever uncertain path to second chances, Jakob Dylan and Rami Jaffee decided to continue instead of quite, thereby rebuilding the band from the ground up. During this lengthy four year process, grunge waned and alt-rock ascended, launching bands like Cracker, Gin Blossoms, and Counting Crows into the spotlight. At this point, the band satiated its depleted ranks and refashioned itself as a dark yet driving force on the roots side of alt-rock, shedding the laborious-to-love twang soaked nuances of The Wallflowers without sacrificing the heart and soul of the songs. In essence, they cut the gamey fat and polished the meat, all the while honing their craft. The Wallflowers didn’t really change their sound; they just refined it.

Of course, none of this would have mattered had it not paid off, but it did, and the result was Bringing Down the Horse (1996), a true 90s classic that wore the rare double badge of “well deserved” and “well received,” not to mention it being a beacon for second chances and embodying the antithesis of the sophomore slump. All in all, the album just works, providing a definitive album for the genre, decade, and band (even if it might not be their best). Every track on the album is excellent and accessible (in the good way), meaning that Horse works both as a list of its parts and a sum of its parts, which is in no way obscured by the four juggernaut singles it produced. The success of the rambling yet miraculously well executed “6th Avenue Heartache” and “Three Marlenas” is well deserved, and the rocking “The Difference” is no doubt one of the band’s finest moments, but it’s the flawless “One Headlight” where it’s clear everything just clicked. That song alone could propel any album, but The Wallflowers were more than able to justify the single’s massive impact, because the rest of the album is pure gold. Other standouts include the mid tempo “Bleeders,” the rocking “Angel on my Bike” and the ethereal “Invisible City.” Despite the album’s varied musical tapestries, the lyrical themes conjure darker tones and imagery; a place where Dylan has always seemed comfortable. And while their debut felt like an objective storybook, Horse feels oddly personal, channeling ghosts of the past to incredibly moving vignettes. Despite the noir subject matter, nothing is forced, but instead canonized, as it is ultimately timeless.

By most accounts, Bringing Down the Horse is the true beginning for The Wallflowers (but their self-title debut is still relevant and quite impressive). It did more then just put them on the musical map, it blew up the map. And while the band has produced subsequent material that is arguably superior in both quality and ambition, they have not been able to replicate Horse’s commercial success or impact, meaning that this album will be their primary marker on the musical globe, and you could certainly do worse. Bringing Down the Horse is arguably the best folk-rock album of the 90s; let’s just hope that Jakob et al. have, by now, found it in their dark hearts to pat themselves on the back for this truly sterling accomplishment.

4.5/5

"This invisible city / Where no one sees nothing / We're touching faces in the dark / Feelin' pretty is so hard"

McS

Movie Review: Public Enemies (2009)

Public Enemies (2009)

No one does it quite like Michael Mann. Whether it’s sex or violence, or both, no one will saturate the audience so well in the intended scene of adrenalin more so than he, who is truly a unique filmmaker. And that’s something that constitutes its own film classification. Similar to Quentin Tarantino, a Michael Mann film really is Michael Mann’s take on something, something in his signature style. But where Tarantino will intentionally take the hyperbolic/campy route, Mann will journey along the cinéma vérité highway (and probably at night), picking up a few tricks along the way. Of course, this is all old news, and the quality, craft, and innovation that we’ve come to expect from Mann is certainly alive and shooting in Public Enemies (2009).

Public Enemies tells the true events surrounding the escapades of notorious depression era bank robber John Dillinger (a surprisingly docile but very likable Johnny Depp) and his eventual downfall at the hands of detective Melvin Purvis (Christian Bale, thankfully sans Batman mode). Dillinger’s roguishly good looks and quasi-Robin Hood complex served to both provide a media spectacle for needed escapism from the depression, and justify the true establishment of the FBI with the fearless “G-Men” leading the way. Purvis, of course, is the law man for the job, at the request of J. Edgar Hoover (Billy Crudup, capturing the closet OCD psycho perfectly) himself. What ensues is a frustrating cat and mouse game that covers much of America’s mid-west and then some, with Dillinger always one step ahead of the Feds. One could argue that Dillinger’s Marian, Billie Frechette (an always beautiful Marion Cotillard), is the reason for his increasingly sloppy behavior and eventual demise; but really, no one robbing banks can truly expect to live forever, can they? The acting is no doubt solid on all levels. Surrounding the strong leading cast is literally a legion of very capable supporting character actors, providing a rich base for both the narrative and the setting. But therein lies a bit of a problem: there are too many characters to be concerned about, which ultimately inhibits any real character development. This is no fault of the actors; it’s just that the direction of the film effectively barricades the audience from really getting into the lead characters, thus preventing the film from achieving anything excellent.

It’s been the better part of two decades since Mann last tackled a period piece (1992’s epic The Last of the Mohicans), and it certainly shows. Since then, the director has migrated toward a more personal and intimate film style, picking up a few digital cameras along the way. While that might sound like the recipe for porn, it has, in fact, turned out to be a further level of distinction for the filmmaker. That being said, it makes for one different kind of period piece. Truth be told, filming in digital makes the film seem all the more realistic, as if a documentary filmmaker was following every step of the investigation, and this is where Public Enemies excels. In addition, the film treats the audience to several meticulously crafted shootout scenes; some that rank among Mann’s finest, especially with the digital veil only multiplying the tension. By the time the film’s inevitable conclusion rolls around, it’s clear that Mann has made his point.

In the end, Public Enemies is a solid dependable Mann film, even if it isn’t his best. While it has certainly built upon the visual and technical blueprint set by Collateral (2004), it ultimately falls short of Mann’s predecessor, the exquisite Miami Vice (2006), where the digital canvas fit perfectly with the film’s grainy night scene (and where the characters had not a crevasse to hide in). Because of its successes on both the visual and character fronts, Miami Vice will most likely be Mann’s definitive offering of this decade, but Public Enemies is still a more than worthy parting gift and a fine product from one of the most innovative and unique major studio directors of the last thirty years.

3.5/5

McS

Album Review: The Jayhawks - Tomorrow the Green Grass (1995)

The Jayhawks - Tomorrow the Green Grass (1995)

The Jayhawks may have made their definitive album in 1992 with the alt-country masterpiece Hollywood Town Hall, but it’s the opening track of their subsequent effort that gives the band their definitive song. In fact, “Blue” might just be the summit of the band’s career, not just because it’s their biggest hit to date, but because it stands at a musical crossroads, the calm before the band’s relative storm. With its surprisingly smooth acoustic guitars (less twang), and keyboard/string buildup, “Blue” is a rich departure from anything prior, a sure sign that its residence, Tomorrow the Green Grass (1995), is a different kind of Jayhawks masterpiece.

In addition to having one of the better album titles ever, Tomorrow the Green Grass boasts a sort of anticipation in its music and concept (certainly apparent when comparing its lush spring-like album cover to that of Hollywood Town Hall’s stark winter scape), and the contents reflects that. The austere twang is largely absent here, replaced with subtle piano and occasional strings; however, nothing here feels overproduced. Tomorrow is still very much an alt-country album; it’s just been augmented with more melody. And in the hands of core songwriters Gary Louris and Mark Olson, the results are nothing short of masterful. While Tomorrow might not be as arresting as Hollywood, it’s certainly more accessible. The clear winner is “Blue,” but the expert arrangements and executions of songs like “I’d Run Away” and “Bad Time” give the album secondary gems against a backdrop of muscular song craft. However, the real secret weapon of Tomorrow is the new addition of pianist Karen Grotberg. The combination of more pronounced keyboards and female vocal harmonies with the standard Louris/Olson vocals makes for a much more eclectic and flushed out album. Indeed, the band rocks a little harder on “Real Light,” but then digs a little deeper on “Two Hearts,” only to soar a little higher on “Nothing Left To Borrow.” All in all, there is not a weak track to be found; only differing musical avenues that ultimately end up at the same satisfying destination.

While the album displays no feeling of finality, it would end up being Mark Olson’s final outing with the band, where he amicably left in 1996 to spend more time with his then wife, musician Victoria Williams (who is paid tribute on this album via “Miss Williams’ Guitar,” which feels like bittersweet irony in retrospect). Therefore, Tomorrow the Green Grass marks the end of chapter one in the Jayhawks story, but it also provides us with a distance glimpse of what was to come in chapter two. While the continual distancing from alt-country is not necessarily suggested here, its eventuality seems logical considering the bands evolution up to this point. That being said, this is a comfortable Jayhawks album, with the band at its most realized, before any of the upheavals or true sonic shifts. It’s their lesser masterpiece, but a masterpiece none the less.

4.5/5

"Gave all of my mercy/ Gave all of my heart / Never thought I'd miss you / That I'd miss you so much"

McS

Movie Review: Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg (2008)

Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg (2008)

My Winnipeg is a sweet, beautiful, artsy film. It blends historical anecdotes with creative fantasy and tells the story of a man who is trying his hardest to escape his home town, but who is compelled to stay by an unarticulated, dreamy beauty that Winnipeg leeches from every pore. We are shown the destruction of Winnipeg Arena, once home to the troubled Jets NHL team, and the group of free-masons who sneak into city hall to perform a séance that incorporates ballet and dance. Archival footage is blended with animated and live-action recreations. Some sequences are fantastically absurd, such as the horses frozen in the Assiniboine River with their heads peaking from the ice, but others are more sensible. Even as a Winnipegger, I occasionally struggled to distinguish the truth from fiction, but I guess that's not the point.

Guy Maddin spends much of the film recreating childhood memories using his real mother and three actors to play his siblings. The real meaning behind this docu-fantasy is hidden here. Childhood is a magical, often traumatic time, and the magic and myth contained within memories rarely stands the test of time. Our childhood home is replaced by a restaurant and the locations we used to visit for play have lost their special meaning. And how often is it that we remember something exactly how it happened? Sometimes it is more beautiful, and certainly more interesting, to remember things with a little embellishment and flavour.

The great filmmaker, Werner Herzog, often speaks of the ecstatic truth: a truth that you can only uncover by blending fact and fiction. There is a truth, a beautiful truth, lurking in performance, in construction, and in the human heart. A truth that cannot exist by speaking alone, or by telling a story how it really happened. For a deeper truth we must look deeper into how we like to imagine the banal and why we find the fantasy so compelling.

The final verdict: Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg is a very personal film. It is delightful and hilarious. It explores myth, memories and storytelling, and that special attachment to our home town that will forever hold a special place in our heart and that can never be properly explained to outsiders, an attachment that will never let us truly leave.

Professor P

Movie Review: Up (2009) {part 2: the magic}

After all the praise that Up has received (from Taylor, myself, ever major movie reviewer, and basically ever other person who has seen it), a simple but nagging question still comes to mind: why go 3D? Pixar seems to have such a good thing going with their own personal style, so why throw a wrench into the gears of the animation progress. Why seemingly reduce a very powerful and provocative movie with a gimmick that reminds one of cheap thrills from campy movies of one’s childhood. The answer is quite simple: the 3D is no gimmick. Unbeknown to most, apparent leaps and bounds have been made in the realm of 3D projections and the head-aches, disorientation and other less appealing aspects of old-school 3D films are all but gone. In the end the 3D component of this film is not a gimmick but instead a tool used to enhance the story telling.

Up is not the first Pixar film to break a technological boundary in the name of animation. In many ways, each Pixar film has brought about amazing visual revolutions in animated storytelling and each revolution has been utilized not to wow, but instead to enhance the elements of the story in which we as humanbeings can best relate.

Toy Story started it all and opened the world to computer animation as a viable story telling method. Computers were finally able to create characters that moved with expression and detail and could mimic the natural expressions and body languages of humans even in non-human characters.

Monsters inc. then pushed computers in the field of fur creation and rendering and continued Pixar’s astounding work in creating characters, which while far from human still possess the human spark that makes them engaging. (This humanizing of the un-human is a continuing theme for Pixar films and is something that no other digital animation house has been able to approach with such care and nuance.)

Finding Nemo brought forth amazing advancements in translucence.

The Incredibles followed with new advancements in squash and stretch modeling and the first set of “human” protagonists to grace a Pixar film.

Ratatouille introduced an entirely new look to Pixar films: a cross between a watercolor and a pastel painting.




The animators of Wall-e took the look of Ratouille a step further and created a landscape that was desolate and yet hauntingly beautiful. They also raised their level of storytelling with a movie that is basically silent for the first hour.

Each movie for Pixar has represented a leap in technological ability and yet these new leaps have never led to missteps or mistakes, like so many other technological innovators (Windows Vista anyone…). Each new advancement has been added upon what had come before it. Never was a new technique, method or idea integrated just for the sake of its creation. It had to serve a purpose in the story. It had to enhance the character's ability to relate with the audince or create an even better world in which the audince could be drawn into.

Up - for the most part - follows the same paradigm of technological advancment.

I say, for the most part, because the 3D in Up isn't really crucial to the film. After all, unlike many of the other technological innovations from the previous Pixar films Up's 3D isn't a neccessary or even truely an important part of the storytelling. However, this is all really a mute point because as I mentioned before the 3D is never used a gimik. Objects are not selectively 3D; everything is given a place on the dimensional horizon. Objects don't fly towards the audience; they lie on a proper 3D plane and this is what makes Pixars use of 3D so amazing.
This is only speculation, as I have not seen the 2D version, but I have a feeling that even though this movie was designed from the ground up as a 3D entity that in it’s traditional 2D form the movie would still be just as an astounding masterpiece. Because the 3D version doesn't rely on making an audience feel like they have to dodge flying object, watching the 2D version shouldn't make a viewer feel like they are missing something important.

Perhaps the greatest praise that can be given to Pixar for the visual aspect of Up is how they handled the 3D. They utilized a very old technology and brought it back into the mainstream. They did it in a way that enhanced the film and yet would not damage it, even if the 3D was removed. No matter what advancement Pixar makes, they never seem to forget that it is the story that matters in the end and not some new technique or technology.

(One last little aside: a unique property of the 3D glasses was that they slightly dimmed the image that was being projected. This served to darken and slightly de-saturate the colours of the film. One can not help but wonder if the darker vibe of the movie would be slightly diminished in the 2D version or if the animators took this into account and made the 3D version more vibrant to account for the effect of the glasses.)