It's Tuesday's TV, Music, Music, Music & 2 Film Reviews, Too

Tuesday's TV Highlights (& Lowlights), Music, Music, Music, & 2 Film Reviews, Too

Tuesday's TV Highs & Lows

AMC    (American Movie Classics)    'The Music Man' - 76 Trombones lead this big parade, with
          Robert Preston starring as Professor Harold Hill.  See Ron Howard sing 'Gary,
          Indiana'.  (12:30 pm & 8:45 pm)


AMC    (American Movie Classics)    'Stagecoach' - One of John Ford's best, starring John
          Wayne and Clare Trevor. (5 pm & 11:30 pm)


BRAVO  (Bravo)                      'The Deer Hunter' - Pennsylvanian's go hunting, and we
          all lose our appetite for venison.  Robert De Niro & Christopher Walken.  (8:30 pm)


TBS    (Turner Broadcasting System) A Burt Reynolds-fest!  3 of Burt's best (cue banjo music)
          First up, after the game (Cincinnati at Atlanta), is 'Deliverance', followed by
          'White Lightning', and 'Gator'.  ('Deliverance' - 10:30 pm, 'White Lightning' -          
          12:45 am & 'Gator' - 2:45 am)


TNN    (The Nashville Network)      'Star Trek: The Motion Picture - The Shatner-centered crew
          seeks out more alien lifeforms, and also get a Nasty-Gram from the past.  (9 pm)


TCM    (Turner Classic Movies)      'Ben-Hur' - The Chuck Heston version.  Revel in this
          big-ticket cheesefest.  (11 pm (edt)/8 pm (pdt))


HBO3   (Home Box Office #3)         'Nixon' - Oliver Stone's version of RMN.  Anthony Hopkins
          Kevin Costner, Joan Allen (as Pat Nixon), Tommy Lee Jones, lots of great 
          performances.  (midnight (edt)/9 pm (pdt))

Music, Music, Music, Part 1

Music Review By Trey Beats

          Cake
       "Comfort Eagle"


Trey Rates It:              71 out of 100

     PROS           Just as ironic and catchy as Fashion Nugget
     CONS           Fashion Nugget is not Cake's best album
     BOTTOM LINE    Cake keeps the biting wit and melodic chanting coming, 
                      but seemingly empty songs leave something to be desired

     Like a beetle with its head and legs chopped off, Cake has been somehow able to survive 
even after losing its guitarist, Greg Brown, and bassist, Victor Damiani. Perhaps it's a 
testament to the cult following Cake has been supported by for years, but most likely it's 
evidence that lead vocalist and lead guitar John McCrea is the brains behind the outfit, kind 
of like Dick Cheney but not evil. Ever since Capricorn records signed the band in 1995, 
McCrea's Cake has transformed from one-hit wonder novelty-rock to mainstay 
country-soul-funk-rock music doused in irony. 

     Fashion Nugget, their second album, contained their hit single "The Distance" 
which was a half-sung, half-chanted story about a lovelorn racecar driver. Comfort Eagle, 
their fourth and most recent release, sounds more like Nugget than their previous CD 
"Prolonging the Magic" does, which is not necessarily a good thing. Nugget had a few quality 
songs ("Frank Sinatra", "Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps") but Magic truly brought out the best in 
Cake melodically and lyrically. 
      
     Comfort Eagle never really reaches the same highbrow mix of tune and irony that Magic 
did, and the album suffers because of it. However, there are some gems on the release: 
"Commissioning a Symphony in C" tells the story of an Austrian nobleman tapped to write a 
masterpiece of music, "Love You Madly", a funky love song, morphs the best between Magic and 
Nugget, and the chorus of "Shadow Stabbing" is just catchy and quirky enough to satisfy. 
      
     I would urge Cake fans to definitely give this one a try, but those who weren't big fans 
of Cake's previous stuff should look elsewhere. There just aren't any new eggs from this Eagle. 
-- Trey Beats (July 23, 2001)

         




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Music, Music, Music, Part 2

Music Review by Pete Hisey
Pete Hisey




Where Have All the Protest Songs Gone?


     “Just another motherfucker in a motorcade,” the Sisters of Mercy sang about the 
slightly smarter Bush in “Vision Thing.” The Ramones lacerated Mr. Vacant in “Bonzo Goes 
to Bitburg.” “Reagan, Thatcher dead and gone,” the Mekons chanted, perhaps just a bit 
optimistically.

     There were perhaps hundreds of songs that mentioned Nixon in a less-than-favorable 
light, and even Clinton came under attack in the Waco Brothers ditty, “See Willy Fly By.”

     To date, though, our most incompetent, evil and just plain loathsome head of state 
has received a free pass. He stole an election, installed drooling senile fascists in top 
positions, advocates destroying our and the worldwide environment, embarrasses every 
thinking human with his every utterance, and is so much in the pocket of big business 
he is covered with lint and old Lifesavers.

     I come from a past that includes the MC5, the Clash, Bruce Cockburn, the Subhumans, 
and a whole host of others who said “Fuck You” to the established order. Where is the 
outrage today?  My daughter is 11 years old. She is furious about Bush and his 
environmental bushit, and what is she offered? Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys.  
When I was roughly her age, I could hear “Talking John Birch Society Blues.” A few years 
later, it was “Kick Out the Jams” and “Fortunate Son.”

     Hell, I would settle for some wimpy construct like “Eve of Destruction.”

     Turn on the radio. Silence. Sure, sometimes I hear one blurb from the Rage Against 
the Machine ilk of all-purpose protest, and some rap groups are keeping the faith, 
but seriously, in the mainstream, there is nothing. Happy little pop ditties, 
phony corporate rock, self-pitying whiners and little else.

     I am sure I am missing something, somewhere. Anyway, I hope so. But given the rich, 
fertile ground that our resident offers, along with his crew of leftover Reagan fascists, 
WHERE THE HELL have all the protest songs gone. Is an entire generation just too involved 
in choosing between latte and chai to be bothered reading a newspaper or turning on the 
news? Are the Star Trek sites so fascinating that a visit to Bartcop or other political 
sites just too much to bear?

     Bartcop readers, can you point out something, anything, that will prove me wrong? 
Or are we doomed to gather at Joe Strummer, Bruce Cockburn and Mekons shows, like old 
folkies clustering around Dave Von Ronk and Bob Dylan concerts, remembering the good 
old days, when musicians could and did change the world?

     I hope our music board will become the kind of interactive, reader-driven experience 
the main Bartcop.com site has been for years. And unlike Bart, I work at home and have 
the time to read and answer email. Let’s get it on!
-- Pete H.



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Music, Music, Music, Part 3

Another Music Review  by Pete Hisey
Pete Hisey




Why Counting Crows Must Be Driven into the Sea


     There is only one thing you need to know. I promise to get to that one thing in a 
moment.Counting Crows, like Hootie and the Blowfish before them, came out of nowhere with 
a pleasant little ditty, in this case Mrs. Jones, a blatant Dylan knockoff with some 
pleasing hooks and a couple of interesting turns of phrase. Not great, but not horrid, 
FM fodder.

     The band then set a land-speed record for turning into a self-pitying bunch of hacks 
with all the lyrical talent of a very sensitive, too sensitive, 16-year-old. Their second 
album contained a song about how tough it is being a rock star and nobody understands and 
all your friends look at you differently and you can’t live a normal life and boo-hoo-hoo, 
poor me crap. Even Bon Jovi waited four or five albums before sinking to this level, when 
prettyboy moaned that he was “a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride” and how much he missed 
the only girl who really understood him has to stay behind while he goes out on tour, 
getting soul-stultifying blowjobs from groupies who don’t really care about him. Blech. 
Double blech.

     I would not be writing this, however, were it not for a single line from these 
pathetic losers and wannabes, who hopefully will join Hootie and Haircut 100 in the 
“three CDs for $2” case down at the local used CD store. 

     Six simple words tell you all you need to know about these hacks. And those six 
words are “the smell of  hospitals in winter.”

     This line belongs in those hysterical lists of really bad high-school essay phrases 
that make the rounds. The average poetry slam audience would throw bottle. It is just so 
stupid on so many levels, I stare at the sky and ask “why hast thee betrayed me?” Not 
since “Horse With No Name” has there been such a glaring example of fatuous, pseudo-deep, 
and flat-out ridiculous songwriting foisted on a gullible public. Remember, “Horse” 
sold a million copies.

     OK, Chris or whatever your name is, what exactly does a hospital smell like? And 
how does if vary from season to season, given that they are generally environmentally 
sealed? Can you savor the aroma from month to month, or week to week like a wine gourmand? 
Does it taste of a light pear aftertaste? Is its finish crisp yet saucy? Do southern 
hospitals have a more fruity body, with highlights of cinnamon and pomegranate?

     Do you know what an insufferable git you are, Chris? Do you meander around San 
Francisco, ostentatiously recording your observations in a lambskin-covered journal? 
Do they go something like, “the homeless man stares at me, proud and invincible?” 
Did everyone laugh at you in high school because you wrote a column called “Poetry 
Corner” for the school paper?  Was your nickname “Prat?” Did your girlfriend dump 
you for an acned bass player in a crummy punk band?

     Somehow, from the evidence provided by the above seven words, I think so.

     Get lost.
-- Pete H.




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Movie Review #1 - "Final Fantasy"

Movie Review by James Frye
James Frye




"Final Fantasy"


     I am 47 years old and I play video games, so movies based on video games intrigue me.  
I also like computers, but (seeing how you're reading this) this is something you and I share.  
I also admit I've seen all of the movies based on video games - Street Fighter, Double 
Dragon....yes, even Tomb Raider.

     Now, for the newest entry into the video games-to-movies sweepstakes, allow me a moment 
to explain something.  Japan produces most of the world's video games, but we have the terms 
reversed.  Most of the time, they base their games on animated movies that have been released 
first in Japan.  We get the game first over here - then the movie.

     As for the movie itself.....well, it is a stunning paean to technology.  The space ships, 
battle scenes, etc., are indeed something to behold.  Computer animation has come quite a ways 
since Toy Story.  Unfortunately, that is the best thing I can say about this movie.

     For my fellow gamers, this picture is a long-form "movie" that breaks up gameplay and 
most of the time bores us to death until we can get back to being able to control the action 
when playing.  Just like the Playstation Final Fantasy games, this movie is just as much soap 
opera as those game interludes....multiplied by five.

     The other major problem with the movie is that it shows the limitations of computer 
animation.  CGI (computer generated images) is wonderful for toys, spaceships, dinosaurs 
and other non-humans but still doesn't quite "get" people right.  And there are lots of 
computer-generated people in Final Fantasy.

     So, the movie is good as a curiosity piece to see how far computers have 
progressed - and like I said, some of the movie is stunning.   However, when it comes 
down to the crunch on this one, just pass me the controller and load the game.
-- James Frye




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Movie Review #2 - "A.I."

Movie Review by David Jansing
David Jansing




"A.I. - Ersatz Eleven Year Olds"


Ersatz Eleven Year Olds (a movie review)

     Eleven year olds are wonderful to have around.  They're generally "housebroken", 
they can think independently (some of the stuff that goes through their minds can be 
astounding), and they can even help you with those annoying little tasks of modern 
life such as programming the VCR or getting Outlook Express to send an email message 
to more than one address at a time. Most pleasantly of all, they display none of the
characteristics of adolescents, who usually behave like ten year olds on steroids. 

     Steven Spielberg's new movie, A.I. started off interestingly enough. In the 
world of A.I., global warming had caused the polar ice (all of it) to melt, turning 
coastal cities the world over to Atlantises, including New York City. Later in the 
film, you get a picture of what Manhattan would look like if it were under about 70 
or 80 feet of water. 

     What can I say about A.I.? It has made such an impression on me that I have had 
this movie on my mind for days. It provokes so many thoughts, especially for the 
computer scientist who harbors a serious interest in the real thing (A.I. that is). 
If this film doesn't touch you, you are untouchable, or a Vulcan. Since I am also a 
lifelong Trekker, I can't help making the inevitable comparisons between David 
(the A.I. child-android) and Data (and possibly The Doctor). 

     The world of A.I. is a world in which one needs a license to reproduce, since 
it has become painfully evident that the planet will only support so many people and 
without some kind of family planning on a global scale, the still-ongoing environmental 
disaster would only get worse. This presents another problem, namely labor shortages. 
One way to deal with labor shortages is to recruit gastarbeitern (German for "guest 
workers") from overseas to make up the shortfall. Of course, you then run into the 
problem of overshooting your population density target. Another solution, which the 
residents of this brave new world found more reasonable, is technology.

     This world relies on androids to fill gaps in their labor force. They are endowed 
with sufficient artificial intelligence to perform their duties - and probably little 
else. Thus, you have "lover mechas" to assume the world's oldest profession, and do it 
better than any real-life whore in history. Think about it - no more STD's. There are 
also "mechas" that perform tasks such as gardening, heavy construction, and even
playing with your kids - a "super toy", as they call the character known as "Teddy".

     One thing these "mechas" did not possess was the ability to experience emotion, 
like Data from Star Trek - The Next Generation. They could be taught to fake it, and 
laugh at your jokes even if they weren't funny, but there was something missing. 
This is what Professor Handy wished to address. He wanted a more completely human 
android that could be a companion rather than a mere slave. Unfortunately, as 
suspected by Professor Handy from the onset, this aspect of his resulting creation, 
David, was lost on the people given the responsibility of caring for him. Children
were precious, after all, and machines were merely machines. 

     David was an android in the form of a ten year old boy who was programmed to 
behave as such. After a reasonable break-in period, the "mother" would speak a
code to the android, after which the two were forever bonded. The android would love 
you unconditionally, do what you ask, behave, and presumably misbehave, just like the 
real thing. The problem was, Professor Handy did too good a job. 

     Is having an intelligent machine in your house who will always be ten years old 
desirable? 

     I personally have several problems with the idea of imitation children. A while ago, 
I was in the local software store where I ran across a program called Babyz, which is the 
latest incarnation of the popular AI program Dogz. My reaction: revulsion. Children are
not pets, nor are pets substitute children. 

     Now then, you have your imitation eleven year old.  Does he stay that way forever, 
perpetually dependent on Mommy for emotional support, or does he eventually acquire adult 
wisdom, and become a sage in a child's body?

     I would find a ten year old who never manages to get beyond a certain point in mental 
development rather frustrating. Think about this for a minute; one of the most enjoyable 
and rewarding things about having children is watching them grow up, bring their dates
to meet you, learn to drive an automobile, and walk across the stage at graduation. 

     How can one even begin to construct a ten year old from scratch? 

     If you have ever had children, you realize that the person a eleven year old is 
becoming is the culmination of all of that child's previous experiences, parental guidance 
and example, the ordeal of sibling rivalry, playground confrontations, even skinned knees. 
You cannot bottle that in a computer database. Even Voyager's holographic Doctor took
several years to properly develop a personality, learn the rules of society, and really 
become a "person."  David, of course, never gets the chance to develop his potential.

     Computer scientists who work with AI's in real life teach software to behave in 
certain ways, to recognize handwriting for example, by employing what they call neural 
networks. In other words, the user gives the program more and more samples to process in 
the hope that the computer will eventually get better at its task. That is how a program 
such as Dragon Naturally Speaking works. 

     The programming of an android to convincingly mimic the complex behavior of a human 
ten year old child would be a monumental task, taking probably several years. Professor 
Handy took twenty months, and managed to create a five year old in a ten year old's body. 
A real ten year old, when faced with another boy wanting to jab him with a cake knife, 
would slap it away and yell, "cut it out, butthead!" David, on the other hand, runs behind 
his "brother", grabs hold of him for dear life, and backs away. This is behavior more
associated with preschool children than typical ten year olds. Maybe after several years, 
you would have acclimatized your child-android to the point that you could expose him to 
other children of his physical age. 

     Is it somehow cruel to produce such a creature as a child android, only to have the 
parent grow old and die? What would then become of the android child?

     David asked his "mother" how long she would be around.  She replied, "about 50 years." 
He then asked Teddy whether 50 years was a long time. Teddy said, "I don't think so." What 
was never addressed was, what happens after the original owner dies. Presumably the android,
since it couldn't be reprogrammed, would be sent back to the manufacturer to be recycled. 
I don't know about you, but I think that's pretty short-sighted on the part of the 
manufacturer. Human children can usually shift attachments to some extent in the event of 
such tragedy. It is an important survival instinct.

     Would there be restrictions on who could purchase these androids? Should there be 
requirements in place that the recipients be fit parents, or would they be available even to 
the most abusive, exploitive, or worse, in our society?

     The permutations of this last question I will leave to your imagination.

     You see, the dark side of this film is that "mechas" are exploited in every way 
imaginable. Although they were endowed with self-awareness and varying abilities to think for 
themselves, they had no legal status and were not immune from the cruelty of Man. There was 
even a reactionary "anti-mecha" movement that rounds up obsolete and abandoned "mechas" and 
destroys them in a carnival atmosphere. Unlike Data, "mechas" had zero legal status, like 
African-American slaves in the 19th century. Thus, a mecha that is no longer needed could be 
abandoned, scrapped, modified in whatever manner, or sold with inpugnity. They could even be 
tortured for sport. In this manner, A.I. exposes the darkest aspects of human nature in such 
a way that leaves the audience absolutely stunned. All of the human capacity for unspeakable 
evil expressed in Romans is played out in this film so well that you see yourself and are 
shocked at what you see.

     Haley Joel Osment, who played David, is an extremely talented young actor. I was 
impressed by the degree to which he immersed himself into this role. I honestly believed in 
David, was horrified when his mother abandoned him in the woods, enraged when he was about 
to get acid poured on him at the Flesh Fair, and saddened when he finally found what he 
thought was the Blue Fairy at Coney Island Under the Sea. 

     There probably aren't too many adult actors who could command such emotional involvement 
in an audience, let alone a child. Usually, after a movie ends, the audience members will talk 
amongst themselves as they leave the theater. This audience was at such a loss for words that 
other than the closing music, you could literally hear a pin drop.  A.I. was easily the best 
movie I have seen in a couple of years, even if the nuances of the film went over the heads 
of most of the professional movie critics and the public they advise on films.
-- David Jansing




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Marty
Marty





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