New Track From The Enemy - Play It Here!

A hint of good tunes on the upcoming album, "Gimme The Sign" is the new single from The Enemy. The Coventry group is set to release their 3rd album, Streets in the Sky, this spring and I'm now looking forward to it.

You can play the song below or download it via the group's official website, or via the group's official Facebook page.

The Enemy - Gimme The Sign by PurplePR

Hooded Fang Bring Us Some Throwback Goodness: A Review Of Tosta Mista

What the hell is in the water up in Canada? On paper, this looks like a precious, contrived endeavor. In reality, it's one of the best -- if shortest -- albums I've heard in some time.

Hooded Fang are set to drop Tosta Mista in wide(r) release in March and I urge you to pick it up. In the UK, they are on Full Time Hobby.

Tosta Mista is a mess. It's a hot mess of influences but the songs work even though they shouldn't.

I just haven't heard anything quite like this in years.

A song like "Brahma" uses riffs that sound like leftovers from the house band in any Frankie-and-Annette beach movie, with a vocal line bearing the influence of every North American indie crooner since Beck. The tune sways and charms.

"ESP" is more of a Nuggets-worthy cruncher with a vaguely Beach Boys-esque guitar clanking in the mix and a psychedelic feel to the melody.

But it's really "Den of Love" that makes the album an essential purchase. This cut sounds like Pavement doing Frankie Lymon! If that sounds like an unholy combination, so be it. The song is quite simply one of the best tracks I've heard in ages and it's got that weird mix of the familiar and the new -- I can recognize the pieces of genres that make up the song but "Den of Love" still sounds wholly unlike anything I've heard before.

Tosta Mista is a short record but at least it's consistent. Apart from the little instrumental bits, all of the songs sound like lost gems from the 1960s. It's like your hip friend rained a vinyl shop, found some weird bands you'd never heard of before, and then made a mix of a bunch of the best cuts.

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Submarine (2010): An Instant Classic

I finally got around to watching Submarine (2010) today because the WideSight shop on Lockhart Road marked it down to $49HKD (less than $7USD).

A recent review over at A Hero Never Dies also sealed the deal in advance. And, like that always readable blogger, I felt that Oliver in the film bore a certain similarity to good old Max Fischer.

Craig Roberts is pretty solid as Oliver, our hero and narrator. Like Max Fischer before him, he's not an entirely likable character. There's a fine line between being precocious and being a selfish jerk and Oliver crosses that line frequently.

Still, the film is more subtle with this sort of thing than any American film would ever be. Oliver is not perfect but he's human and recognizable to a viewer.

(Add to that the fact that Roberts' performance calls to mind a young Woody Allen in many moments.)

The other reason to go back some 14 years to Max Fischer is that this is perhaps the most well written teen character we've seen on cinema screens since Rushmore (1998).

The budding love affair between Oliver and his dream girl (Jordana) is well done and I found myself almost crying with joy during the film's exquisite and perfectly paced first half.

Another plus here is the presence of the always excellent Noah Taylor as Oliver's dad.

Paddy Considine adds another wacko to his CV. Really, he's never going to top Morell in A Room for Romeo Brass (1999) for me. I've not seen all of his films but he's always an interesting actor and, oddly, he underplays the kook in Submarine (2010) a bit. The character -- that mullet! -- is a broad one, to be sure, but Considine tones things down a bit and leaves a lot of questions unanswered about this character. We're never quite sure what that fellow is up to beyond his New Age claptrap.

Yasmin Paige is fantastic as Jordana. She makes the school-girl less a simple object of affection and more a real character. As viewers, we only know of her what Oliver chooses to reveal as a narrator but, still, she seems altogether more mature, if a bit caustic, than Oliver.

The film lost a bit of steam in the mid-section but, still, it's a near masterpiece as far as I'm concerned.

Submarine (2010) shows a character in the process of growing up and, frankly, that ending is so good because Oliver is a bit of a selfish idiot at times.

And the scenery of the Welsh countryside adds immeasurably to the mood of the picture.

I feel a bit stupid now having waited so long to finally watch such an affecting and touching film. Submarine (2010) is just a joy to watch.

The Island Of Dr. Moreau (1977) With Barbara Carrera

There's been a lot of attention lately over The Island Of Lost Souls (1933) coming out on the Criterion collection, but another, less popular, adaption of the same H.G. Wells novel is also worth a look.

1977's The Island of Dr. Moreau is rightly seen as a failure today but it's a fun one.

A hammy Burt Lancaster matches wits with Michael York as the castaway in an expertly photographed, old fashioned thriller.

Add to that the woman I at one time considered the most beautiful actress alive (Barbara Carrera) and you've got a pleasant way to spend 96 minutes on a Sunday afternoon.

I got this title at the Sino Centre in Mongkok and it's another one of those Japanese editions. This one came with a bonus DVD of a seemingly random collection of MGM library title trailers and little in the way of extras -- the original trailer is it.

It's a strange film and one that seems at odds with the era in which it was made. Post-Jaws (1975), and in the summer of Star Wars (1977), The Island of Dr. Moreau (1977) is equally schlocky and stagey and never seems to settle in any one style of storytelling.

And let's be honest here. Burt Lancaster is just awful in this film. He was a bad choice for the role and he just doesn't work. Neither menacing nor erudite, he's just a ham wandering through that jungle full of pig-men. At least Brando had the good sense to make his Moreau a figure of camp in his version of the film some 20 years after this one.

But this version is not a total failure: Michael York is, as always, an intrepid leading man. The score by Laurence Rosenthal is lovely. The make-up work reveals some fascinating creations from an era prior to today's modern advances in cinematic special effects and make-up work -- though Richard Basehart's hairdo is pretty suave for a guy who's half an animal.

And Barbara Carrera is in it. Really, she's stunningly beautiful and why she wasn't a bigger star is one of those mysteries that always perplexes me. Her choice in roles was never very astute -- Condorman (1981)!?! -- but she was always a pleasure to watch on the screen.

While pegged as a Latin beauty who traded on her exotic good looks in her film work, Ms. Carrera was also a classic beauty and a reminder of the serene and elegant leading ladies of old Hollywood.

Since I remember thinking how beautiful she was when I was a young boy, I still find myself watching her films just to catch a glimpse of the woman.

Now an accomplished artist, she's largely retired from acting but there are at least a few of her titles worth seeking out. 1977's The Island of Dr. Moreau is probably one of them as she's never looked lovelier.

Hang Cool Teddybear: On Watching The Japanese 2-DVD Edition Of Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls In Hong Kong

I made my way to The Sino Centre yesterday and I picked up a 2-DVD set of the greatest movie ever made, Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1970).

The Japanese edition is more or less the same as the US one from a few years ago, though it seemed like there were more photo galleries on this one. On the special features of this set, the Japanese subtitles are burned on, but on the film itself they are removable.

Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1970), as always, remains a weird and wild masterpiece.

I had read about the film, and director Russ Meyer, prior to finally seeing the film but none of that prepared me for the surreal charm of the thing. Sometime in spring or summer of 1994, I was supposed to go to work the next morning (a Saturday) and I also had tickets to see The Auteurs at the old 9:30 Club in D.C. the next night.

But I stumbled upon Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1970) on Cinemax in the middle of the night and was entranced. The film was like a bad dream. Frankly, being half asleep made the film seem like even more of a strange masterpiece. I had to watch the film again as soon as possible just to convince myself that I had not imagined that shit in some half-sleep stupor.

It's almost like someone went back in time and made a satire of the era from a more modern perspective. Part camp, part straight drama, part comedy, part exploitation picture, Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1970) is every bit as funny as any of those Mike Myers Austin Powers pictures -- the first one quotes from this one, by the way!

Still, silly and campy bits aside, the film is a marvel of tight editing and sharp cinematography. There's an expert use of montage here as well as some witty musical cues.

But the effect of Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1970) is really just one that inspires awe. It's so wholly unlike anything else I've ever seen.

Frankly, I was a bit disappointed with the other Russ Meyer titles I watched after this one got me interested in the guy. They are so cartoon-y where this one is campy, so unsubtle where this one is mildly suggestive.

Yes, there are 2 Playboy Playmates in this (Dolly Read and Cynthia Myers) but the film is remarkably tame when viewed today. But, somehow, that makes it a nice reminder of an era where sexy could be conveyed with a bit of wit and a lot of cleavage. Somewhere between the antics of TV's "Laugh-In" and a Benny Hill bit, Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1970) is a throwback thrill to an era when women had curves and looked somehow more natural and less contrived, even if impossibly proportioned as Meyer preferred.

Endlessly quotable -- that epilogue! -- and always a string of visual delights, Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1970) rarely fails to charm. It's not the sort of film that I can watch portions of. It always feels like I've got to sit through the whole thing.

But those nearly 2 hours of time are always time well spent. Easily the best thing ever written by Roger Ebert, Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls (1970) is just pure camp joy and high gloss pop pleasure from an era sadly gone.

"This is my happening and it freaks me out!"

Indeed, Z-Man, indeed.

Ayutthaya And An Elephant Ride: A Photo Essay

I'm in Bangkok on another meet-and-greet sort of thing for my future employers in Hong Kong. But today I had some free time so I went off exploring.

I got a bit lost in Central World and it was lunch-time.

Determined not to be lured by the siren song of Burger King, Sizzler, or Swensen's (!), I hit a Thai place in the mall as I was getting exhausted in this mammoth complex. Yum Saap is a chain but it's a decent one. I had (green) chicken curry and fish cakes.

A mall with a temple in front? Okay...

I could have had lunch at one of my least favorite chains...

Batman display in the window of famed Japanese bookstore chain Kinokuniya...

All the lopsided or blurry photos are ones I took from the back of the elephant...

I hesitated to take pictures of the Buddha. It is a holy place, after all. And one has to remove one's shoes before entering the temple.

That said, it's also a holy place with a gift shop. When I saw another guy bow before the Buddha and then take pics, I figured I was in the clear. When I saw the gift counter to the Buddha's right, I knew it was okay.

It's an amazing work of religious art and I found the experience oddly moving as I recalled how much I read about Buddhism back in high school.

Walking back out into the sunlight of a hot February (!) day in Thailand, I felt happy that I had decided to spend my free day here at Ayutthaya and not the mall.