"The new face of horror may very well be the old face of horror." That's the idea posited by Larry Fessenden and Glenn McQuaid's new venture Tales from Beyond the Pale, a collection of half-hour downloadable radio dramas. Judging from the first few episodes: they may be right.
The entire operation is a class act: an aesthetically pleasing website, itunes friendly files, and posters for each episode drawn by Rue Morgue's "Ghoulish" Gary Pullin, but it would all be for naught if the episodes didn't deliver.
Due to both the shortish nature of the episodes and the trend towards "TwilightZonian"/"Talesfromthecrypt-ian" twists, I've kept my reviews short and as spoiler-free as humanly possible.
The debut episode "Man on the Ledge" packs the most star power behind the microphone (Vincent D' Onofrio) but is not necessarily the best of the bunch. Written and Directed by Joe Maggio "Man on the Ledge" features a strong lead performance and a smart script, but suffers from a plot and twist that most listeners will hear coming from a kilometer away. BUT--there's never anything wrong with a familiar story told well. So as far as pilots go: "Man on the Ledge" is worth your time and $2.
Director Simon Rumley brings listeners the most extreme installment of the first three episodes: "British & Proud." A truly twisted tale concerning a young British man's marriage to a mysterious African girl and the resulting "meet the parents" scenario. This is the only episode to not hinge on its twist, and thus is admirable for its straight-forward approach to the story. The voice acting here is uniformly great and the plot offers more socio/politico "food for thought" than the other two entries.
Written by novelist Sarah Langan (Audrey's Door, The Missing) and directed by J.T. Petty (S&Man) "Is This Seat Taken" is easily the strongest episode of Tales from Beyond the Pale yet. A twisty tale of a not-so-accidental meetings between a man and woman on a train that leads to murder, mayhem and the reappearance of suppressed homicidal tendencies. This may just be me embracing my inner Long Islander (and my inner psychopath) but "Is This Seat Taken" scores some serious points for prominently featuring the Long Island Rail Road. I also enjoyed the way that this episode plays with the idea of an "audio only" experience (the whole thing is told via one of the protagonist's tape recorder). The episode toys with listener expectation in the final moments without ever confusing. Highly recommended.
I'm more than excited to see what the next few weeks bring and am happy to report that with such a strong start I will definitely be picking up the rest of the episodes as they become available.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Friday, October 1, 2010
Disclaimers:If you're not familiar with Pink Floyd's The Wall (the landmark concept album/rock-opera/concert/Alan Parker-film) or you don't give a damn about Roger Waters' new staging of the album; then I have to warn you that you may not give two craps about this post (I have something more explicitly horror-themed coming within the week, don't worry I know we're in the best month ever).
Also, I have to state up-front that I have the utmost respect for Roger Waters and thought that this was one of the best (if not the best) concerts I've ever seen(and I've been to a metric ton).
This Thursday I attended the music event that I've been waiting the better part of my life to see: Pink Floyd's The Wall performed in its entirety.
I loved it, it was everything I hoped for, but there were also some changes to the program that not only tired to rearrange the context of the original album, but spelled out too explicitly what was already there (an even greater sin, in my book). This post will look at those changes and nitpick what was otherwise a truly incredible show and one that anyone who can see should see.
The technological upgrades to the show are more than welcome. Cutting edge, digital, modern equipment trumps three 35mm projectors (the extent of the equipment at the original show) any day of the week. I take issue with Waters' overwrought pantomime when accompanied with overly-explicit anti-war, anti-religion and anti-consumer culture images.
It's no hyperbole when I confide with you that one of my earliest memories is listening to the album on my parents Hi-Fi system. Shortly after that I remember watching the film for the first time (parenting class of 1957 represent! Y'all traumatize your kids) and the rest is history.
I'm not doubting Waters' authority in changing the text. He wrote the damn thing: he can do whatever he wants to it. But, I can't help but feeling that in an attempt to reach out and change the jaded mind of the most pigheaded members of his audience (which has to be the vast minority) he risked alienating the more intelligent among us. I'm not portending or presuming my own intellectual maturity, but I feel upon the forty-eighth-thousandth listen: I know at least partially what The Wall's about.
Waters' real fault here is doubting the formative/informative powers of his own songs. Tracks like "Nobody Home" "One of My Turns" "Bring The Boys Back Home" and "In The Flesh (part 2)" both consciously and subconsciously deliver their message through alternating feelings of exhilaration an melancholy.
The "absolute" message of The Wall is indefinable, it's a lot of things, but there are some inescapable truths discovered upon listening. The album's overall statement that "the world is absolutely insane" (newsflash!), technologically imposed anomie and that war is both avoidable and shameful should be inescapable to any listener of the album. These ideas don't change between 1980 and 2010, so why change the mode of transmitting them?
There is a sequence where the visuals of the show alternate between the deaths of WWII soldiers and more recent casualties of violence in the Middle East. It's a positively striking parallel, but it also takes place within the first 10 minutes of the show. It's the only alteration the audience needs to see the message Waters is transmitting. It's a good change, one that brought me close to tears when accompanied with the iconic music.
Not so effective or subtle are the visualizations that follow (i.e. a warzone being "bombed" with the symbols of religion, money, and corporate greed).
A good example of an update not working is the new accompaniment of "Mother." It's a song (a gorgeous and amazing song) that's obviously about abuse of authority/presumption of inability. The new version starts out with Waters strumming a guitar along with footage of himself (30 years younger) but then is accompanied with the words "Big Brother is Watching" with brother crossed out and replaced with mother. It's a clarification that I, as a mentally competent human being, don't need or want. It takes me out of not only the song but the entire show, I start thinking things like: "some of us have had 30 years to think about this song, we get it."
What I'm saying is: if I myself, someone who share's Waters' political/social views pretty closely(I'm no fan of war or religion, although I do still cling to capitalism, sorry Rog), thinks that the updates to the show are a bit heavy-handed: then what the hell is someone who doesn't agree with him going to feel like after seeing it? On the original album, the room for ambiguity was enough wiggle room to let a listener in on the poetics but not entirely in on the politics. Not to mention that Waters' views have grown more pronounced over the last 30 years.
The show works best when it sticks closely to the original. The stage-crew constructs a physical "wall" on-stage out of white cardboard bricks, and the original Gerald Scarfe-based animation makes multiple appearances. The artistry and craftsmanship on hand is breathtaking, but the changes (to borrow a Briticism) are piss-taking.
I love The Wall, and if I had the money I'd follow this show for every stop, not caring that I see an identical show every night. But, I can't help but wonder if Waters is hurting his case (both politically and artistically) by "updating" a classic. Roger: go ask George Lucas if these changes were a good idea.
"Mary Alice got cancer, just like everybody here/seems like everyone I know is getting cancer every year."
The blue-collar narrator of the Drive-by Truckers' song "Putting People on the Moon" echoes a sentiment that most of us have thought/felt.
It's hard to find a person whose life has not been affected by some form of cancer.
Aside from being a devout enemy of cancer, I'm a big fan of Fright Rags t-shirts (especially since they switched over to the much softer shirt material, papa like). I recently received an email asking me if I'd help get the word out about their new design. For the month of October they'll be selling a shirt with the above design entitled "We Belong Alive." It's a clever and striking rendition of the famous Janet-pose recreated with the Bride of Frankenstein. When you order you'll be directly helping Leisha and her family, a woman living with breast cancer who needs the help.
You can order a shirt and read more about why you should help and where the proceeds are going: here.
For those thinking it...yes I can work DBT into every post.
Posted by Adam at 7:22 AM