Best thing ever

Two Weeks – Grizzly Bear from Gabe Askew on Vimeo.

This is a fan-made video for the song “Two Weeks” by a band named Grizzly Bear. I know nothing of this band, but I downloaded the whole album based on this song (very indie folk, which means that I quite like it, but have to be in the mood to wanna listen to it).

The above video, though? FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. Also super interesting is this interview with Gabe Askew, who made the video. The reason it looks so damned good is because this Gabe guy has been doing animation forever and knows his shit. And works for a huge animation company that let him use their render farm. So it’s basically impossible to dream of making something as good (I say this as someone who has never toyed with animation). Oh well. It’s discoveries like this video that make me realize that YouTube and Web 2.0 are ultimately good developments in our popular culture. At times it may seem like Twitter/Facebook/stupid blogs like this one are ruining everything. But there are gems here and there. This, my friends, is a gem.

Snapshot: Eyes Wide Shut

I do love you. And you know… there is something very important that we need to do as soon as possible.

What’s that?

Just finished Eyes Wide Shut, which I’ve been re-watching in chunks on Netflix Instant Queue for months now. It’s such an interesting movie.

Music Moment: “Ellipse” by Imogen Heap

Full disclosure first: Imogen Heap is without a doubt my favorite musical artist. Frou Frou’s Details is my most-played album in iTunes (Imogen Heap is one half of Frou Frou with producer Guy Sigsworth), and “Hide and Seek” is my most-played song. The song in second place has almost half as many plays as “Hide and Seek” (though in my defense, I liked it before it was used on The O.C.). So I was bound to like Imogen’s latest, Ellipse. And, surprise surprise: I do quite like Ellipse.

If the album is at all anticlimactic, it’s because Imogen’s been so thorough in her use of various social networking during the creation of the album. There’s a 40-episode VBlog on YouTube that spans the last two years, chronicling the renovation of Imogen’s childhood home where she now lives, including the creation of a dream studio where she eventually recorded the album. The whole thing will eventually be edited down into a feature-length documentary to be released at a later date.

What strikes me about the endeavor now, having rewatched nearly all of them in light of the album’s release, is how similar the experience was to watching Shut Up & Sing, the wonderful documentary about the Dixie Chicks, which followed them, in part, as they made their last album. Both video projects were great in terms of seeing the creative process play out and track how songs evolved and changed and eventually ended up at their finished iterations. The by-product of the VBlogs is that, having been a part of Ellipse’s creation for over a year now, however indirectly, I feel attached to Imogen’s new album being a success (and I’m sure it’s telling that I feel it’s only appropriate to address her on a first-name basis in this review).

Thankfully, it is a success, though it isn’t without a couple nitpicky details I might change. Imogen’s music has always masterfully balanced the coldness that is inherent to electronic music with the warmth and passion of her vocals and lyrics. Ellipse is more than successful on this front. In an album full of synthesized sounds, the clear emotional strength of Imogen’s style comes through loud and clear. Songs like “Wait It Out” (about the inevitable end of a relationship) and “Half Life” (about unrequited love) are emotional standouts, but the upbeat songs fare just as well. The peppy “Tidal” and cheeky “Bad Body Double” are practically giddy.

If there’s one disappointment with the album, it’s that there isn’t too terribly much innovation going on with Imogen as an artist. This is basically Speak for Yourself, Part II. Now, I love her previous album. But seeing the process of making the album for so long hinted at more innovation than what is ultimately on display here. And of course, at a base level, you just want to see your favorite artists develop their talents. “Swoon” is the most egregious example of this stasis on the album, with a backing beat that sounds sucked directly out of “Daylight Robbery” or “I Am In Love With You” from Yourself. “Canvas” and perhaps “Little Bird” are the album highlights, creatively-speaking, because they sound unlike anything Imogen’s done before (though “Little Bird” lacks some oomph). And while I’m nitpicking: the song order isn’t quite what I think it should be (“Tidal” sounds like a second-to-last song, and “The Fire” is more of a bonus after-the-last-song bit).

Ultimately, though, I’m ecstatic that Immi’s back making and releasing music. It’s so great to see an artist utilize the Internet so effectively (I’m following her on Twitter, too) to keep fans engaged even in the down time between projects. I can’t wait to finally see her on tour, and I can’t wait to wear Ellipse out on my iPod (can you “wear out” an MP3, though?). I’m confident there’s a groundbreaking album in Imogen yet (to use the common comparison to Björk, Immi’s definitely got a Homogenic in her), but with Ellipse, she still hasn’t made it. Yet. A-

Cannonball #7: Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon

I really really really really want to like Wonder Boys the movie more than I actually do. It’s about writing (which I love), it has gay characters (why wouldn’t I love it?), one of said gay characters is played by Robert Downey, Jr. (who I really like), he’s in his underwear for some of the movie (RDJ is hot!), it takes place over a weekend where it’s super drizzly and cloudy out (LOVE this kind of weather), it’s super pretentious and literary (like me!), and it has a lot of actors I really like in it (like Frances McDormand, Michael Douglas, aforementioned RDJ, and Katie Holmes – back when we had NO idea she’d end up where she is today!).

But the movie kinda fell flat for me. Oh well, it happens: dust yourself off and move on. I tried my hand at the book because I’d heard nothing but great things about it (though that sort of recommendation didn’t work out with Chabon’s last that I read: The Mysteries of Pittsburgh), and because I was curious to see how things differed in the book from the movie. Like I said: a lot of the raw ingredients were there for me to really like this story, but the movie couldn’t coalesce these together in a way that resonated with me.

In fact, the book is quite like On Chesil Beach, a book I adore and am now required, it seems, to use as a comparison to every book I read from here on out. But it’s applicable here, I swear! Namely, in that both books seem to drag on for an inordinate amount of time but then blindside you with the catharsis and reasoning behind all that meandering. With On Chesil Beach, this was so effective because the book is essentially novella-length and this meandering doesn’t go on too terribly long, simply long enough for effect. In Wonder Boys, though, the biggest problem is that the book is clearly novel-length, and there comes a point where you just want Chabon to start putting the pieces together. Luckily, he eventually does, but he takes too long to get there.

Wonder Boys chronicles a weekend in the life of Grady Tripp, creative writing professor at some liberal arts college in Pittsburgh. He’s in the midst of a 2,700-page-plus follow-up to his mildly successful last novel and his editor Terry Crabtree is in town to read a first draft of it, as well as for Wordfest that the college is hosting for the weekend. Shenanigans of course ensue, involving the accidental shooting of a dog, stealing baseball memorabilia, the pregnancy of Tripp’s lover, the kidnapping of one of Tripp’s students, a transvestite, a tuba, copious amounts of pot, a brood of adopted Korean Jews, etc.

Actually, typing all that out, it sounds like the book should be a mess. And it totally isn’t. So kudos on Chabon for keeping it all cohesive. But the book drags, namely in the middle chunk of the book, wisely excised from the movie because it has absolutely no bearing on anything, where Tripp and his student James go to a Shabbat dinner with Tripp’s extended family. The whole time I couldn’t help but think “we get it Michael Chabon: you’re Jewish.” Chabon gives minor narrative justification for this chunk towards the conclusion of the novel (hint: it’s all very very meta), but that doesn’t fly for me.

Chabon does wrap things up, though, and he does so quite effectively. Tripp is essentially an adolescent doofus stuck in a middle-aged man’s body and to have him as first-person narrator for so damned long becomes frustrating. You want to shake this guy and tell him to grow the fuck up. He finally comes to this realization, and it’s to Chabon’s credit that this happens in the narrative at the exact moment when you’re ready to give up on the book. There’s certainly more method to Chabon’s madness than in Pittsburgh (which only festers in my memory the more distance I get from it); while it helps this time around to at least get what Chabon’s going for, it still doesn’t add up to a truly great novel. A good one, yes, but not a great one.