Here’s the 1972 Sanka coffee ad that Mr. Cruz inquired about. Thanks to him, I now know it’s the work of Charles E. White III. I just love this retro cartoony style.
Cagney by John McCabe. A book that I’ve had for a good ten years or so, but never got around to reading until now. Why? This is a definitive bio of one of my faves. McCabe does a good job of both illuminating Cagney’s onscreen performances and explaining all the complexities of his personality (if only he didn’t rely so much on long, long quotes). Cagney was a street kid who aspired to be a song and dance man like Fred Astaire, a faithful and loving husband who sequestered his two children in their own separate living quarters, and a famous actor who found his deepest fulfillment in farming. A very interesting man, I’d say.
The End of Suburbia (2004). Although scattershot and cheaply produced, this was a pretty good documentary on how American’s addiction to fossil fuels and the outdated concept of suburban living is slowly destroying our society. Although I enjoyed it, at times the film verged into territory of stereotypically liberal hysteria — which damaged its credibility. Even so, I couldn’t shake the central message that Americans will have to make some hard lifestyle sacrifices to even survive another 50 or 100 years. Uplifting, eh?
Janet Jackson — Control. Like Thriller, another classic goodie that I snagged on Amazon for a song (sorry, couldn’t resist). This album sits right where R&B music sounded appealingly ’80s without getting too obnoxious and New Jack Swingy. To be honest, I’m more interested in further exploring Miss Jackson’s obscure first two albums (1982’s Janet Jackson and 1984’s Dream Street) than any of the slick and mega successful stuff that followed.
The Visitor (2008). Absorbing film about an economics professor (Richard Jenkins) whose dull life is turned around by a young couple who are unknowingly squatting in his NYC apartment. I wasn’t surprised to find that Thomas McCartney wrote the screenplay and directed, since it shares a lyrical quality with his previous film, The Station Agent. What drives this film is a fantastically compelling story (we watched it in one sitting, rare for us) in which even the smallest characters resonate vividly. Richard Jenkins deserves an Oscar nomination, and I loved the attractive Haaz Sleiman as the Syrian musician who teaches Jenkins to loosen up.
Here’s the 1972 Sanka coffee ad that Mr. Cruz inquired about. Thanks to him, I now know it’s the work of Charles E. White III. I just love this retro cartoony style.
Manufactured by California-based Real Soda, Kickapoo Joy Juice is a citrusy concoction named after the potent brew from Al Capp’s classic Lil Abner comic strip. I was hoping that this would taste like a primitive version of Mountain Dew, a soda originally marketed with a similar hillbilly theme. In that respect, it didn’t disappoint. Although grapefruit juice numbers among this soda’s ingredients, the insanely sweet flavor ought to be classified more by color than by whatever food it resembles. Drinking it brought on a nostalgic memory of sipping acid green Mister Misty slushes at the local Dairy Queen. Yeah, they called the flavor “lime” but we all knew that the proper name for it was “green” and nothing else!
So now what? I think I’m just gonna relax and follow some of Slate’s suggestions on how to kill time now that the election’s over.
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Cop Hater (1958). Guess I was in a tawdry, low budget cop movie mood when this one showed up on Turner Classic Movies. Robert Loggia stars as a guy’s guy detective assigned to investigate a series of police slayings during New York City’s hottest summer. A standard plotline directed with all the panache of a live TV production, sure, but this movie has enough unusual elements to recommend it. For one, the hero’s girlfriend is a deaf mute, the serial killer aspect dates back early enough to be a novelty, and the heatwave setting requires most of the cast to lounge around in their skivvies. Real seedy (dig that poster!). The unfamiliarity of the cast is another real asset. A young and unknown Jerry Orbach just radiates grit as a teenage hood, for instance.
As far as campaign ads go, I much prefer this:
New Order’s “Round and Round” is one of my favorites from that era, the kinda thing that made you glad that you stayed up late for 120 Minutes for once. As it turns out, one Paula Greif directed it. Honestly, from a 2008 vantage point the idea of juxtaposing b&w footage of models just sitting there with brief flashes of colorful flowers and marbles seems pretty goofy, but back then it was the coolest:
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The inscription on the base reads” “World Progress Through Scientific Research In The Laboratory. Designed in fulfillment of the wishes of the donor and given to the city of Phoenix by Helen B. Rogers, 1957. Charles Badger Martin, sculptor.” I haven’t been able to find much info on either Rogers or Martin.
On to the mishmash:
Various — The Complete Motown Singles, Vol. 7: 1967. When Mom and Dad gave me a nice big Amazon.com gift certificate for my fortieth birthday, I immediately went online and placed an order for a volume of this wonderful but expensive CD series produced by Hip-O Select. After hearing all 120 songs on five discs, I can now confidently say that 1967 was my favorite vintage Motown year. This was the time when Marvin Gaye first duetted with Tammi Terrell, Stevie Wonder was emerging as a major talent, The Temptations were coming on strong under producer Norman Whitfield, and The Supremes went glam-tastic with “The Happening” and the quasi-psych masterpiece, “Reflections.” It’s also the year of some of the most underrated songs Motown ever put out — The Marvelettes’ “When You’re Young And In Love,” The Four Tops’ “7 Rooms Of Gloom,” Martha Reeves & The Vandellas’ “Honey Chile.” Surprisingly, many of the b-sides presented are as good as the flip sides. Here’s where the non-soul oddities that blemished the earlier volumes are ironed away: 1967 Motown was truly a nonstop hit producing machine. Fantastic stuff!
Iron Man (2008). This movie got mostly good reviews when it came out, didn’t it? Alas, both of us were pretty underwhelmed by the DVD. On the plus side, Robert Downey Jr. deserves all the credit for shaping the character of Tony Stark into something more than a teenage boy’s pastiche of a perfect man (filthy rich, gadget geek, and chick magnet!). On the minus side, this movie was awfully dumb and leaves an impression that’s distinctly more Transformers than Dark Knight. The usually reliable Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeff Bridges were both pallid as love interest and adversary, and for that I blame an uncompelling script. I know that superhero films require much suspension of disbelief, but this sports one too many “oh, come on” moments to count. Hopefully the inevitable next film in the franchise will improve.
Prix de Beauté (1930). This French melodrama, filmed as a silent but dubbed in with a soundtrack for release, would be a minor footnote of a film if it wasn’t the final starring vehicle for the comely Louise Brooks. She’s the whole show here, playing a young woman who enters a beauty contest against her boyfriend’s wishes — suffering the consequences when she wins the title of Miss Europe. The storyline is nothing special, leaving one to notice the director’s odd fascination with crowds and mechanical objects (really, this movie is practically a love letter to the linotype machine). Brooks is startlingly modern in her trademark helmet hairdo and a variety of simple casual wear ensembles. She does her best in a boring story that turns unexpectedly potent in the final ten minutes.
That Darn Cat! (1965). Despite being somewhat long and slapsticky, this is the pinnacle of ’60s live action Disney. Should be an object study on how to make family-friendly films that appeal to both adults and children. And Hayley Mills? Cute as a button.
This mix contains Perrey & Kingsley’s original and a bunch of other goodies. It culminates with an official 2001 remix of the Main Street Electrical Parade theme with campy voice-overs from Alice In Wonderland’s Alice and Pete’s Dragon’s Pete. Other versions include They Might Be Giants’ frenetic cover, a delicate rendition by harpsichordist Sumina Arihashi, a dance remix by Konishi Yashiharu and Pizzicato Five, and an orchestral arrangement used as mood music in the Disney theme parks. I’ve also filled out the mix with various tunes I dig that have a funky “amusement park” vibe (please note: the mix is one long 72-minute mp3 file with the songs slightly blending into each other). Enjoy.
Download ‘Young, Gifted & Baroque: Scrubbles.net Autumn 2008 Mix’
Lockley is also a funny and excellent writer. An observation on ASU’s fabulous Gammage Auditorium:
This Gammage either looks like a wedding cake with arms, or a smart little sombrero that George Cukor might have put on Rosalind Russell’s head as she clips in from stage left, yacking, a sombrero eight stories tall, a sombrero with welcoming arms. It’s pink. Officially the Gammage is ‘desert rose’ but it’s really pinker than hell and everybody knows it. The general opinion seems to be that it’s ugly — or as my friend Bisser blurted out, “hideous!” As if the ghost of George Cukor had pinched his ass.
Not only is that building a wonderfully loopy landmark, but I also have a lot of wonderful memories associated with Gammage. As a child/teen, I saw a lot of great theater productions there. It’s in the parking lot that I learned how to drive a stick shift. And inside, at around the eighth row center on a November night, I met my significant other.
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Hugo Montenegro — Moog Power. One of those kitschy ’60s albums that I’ve always been curious about. This week, I came across a RapidShare download of the album (get it while it’s hot!) and finally got to hear why this was considered a crate digging gem for a time. About as ’60s as Sammy Davis Jr. in gold chains and a paisley nehru jacket, and just as inappropriately groovy. I love the white-bread male chorus on “More Today Than Yesterday” and “Traces,” and the dynamic “MacArthur Park” is tagged for definite inclusion on my next mix — which should be posted here next week. Keep yer ears peeled.
Rat Bastard root beer is produced by an L.A. company who owns the dead url of skeleteens.com. Scared yet? I haven’t even gotten to how they put the slogan “Don’t be a dick. Drink it.” on the cap. Truth be told, sipping on this is a mighty odd experience — at first the soda comes off with a typical and pleasantly sweet taste similar to Barq’s. After a few seconds, however, a deep and lingering flavor more reminiscent of herbal tea kicks in. A look at the label reveals it contains a special herbal blend consisting of three varieties of ginseng, clove, dong quai, ginko biloba and a bunch of other weedy sounding things I’d never heard of. The herbs give it an appealing, sophisticated taste — unexpected, given the bottle’s “sk8tr boi” label design. The guy working at Pop The Soda Shop told us that this is their best selling root beer, and I can understand why.
