The Humans are Dead

I'll admit I tend to drift into lengthy hyperbole, as I get very excited about things, so please forgive me when I say that last night's Flight of the Conchords show was one of the best shows of my life! (See Dara's blog for an alternate take on the evening).
When I saw that Largo had posted a Greg Proops/Flight of the Conchords chat show, I snapped up a reservation using Largo's archaic and highly confusing reservation system. If I could only see two or three Conchords songs, I would be grateful, having become a fan during the premier episode of their brilliant, eponymous HBO show.

So Dara and I decided to make an event of it. We started at the House of Blues Foundation Room, which features an incredible dining experience. HOB is less than 10 minutes down the street from Largo (both of these being my favourite venues, nay, favourite LA locations, period), so we hopped it on over to Largo just in time for the show.

The show started with Jon Brion as the opener, which was a pleasant surprise from me. He came out happy and full of energy, which translated into musical brilliance. Jon played two of his songs, one a piano loop number of "Same Thing" which I had seen him do several times, but still love, and another in which he loops the drums, bass, piano, and plays guitar. This is one of his newer songs which I've seen him play, but still don't know name of.

I envied the audience's experience, as these people were here to see Conchords, and had no idea about the brilliance of Jon. He was on fire and pulled the audience in immediately. There were roars of screaming and clapping after he had finished. He made believers out of everyone.

After this was a stream-of-consciousness tirade from the brilliantly opinionated Greg Proops (you may know him from the hit "Whose Line Is It?") Greg is a maven of cultural and political knowledge, and has a vocabulary to match, which makes his comedy funny, if offensive (Dara and I were in stitches).

On to the main event. If you are unfamiliar with Flight of the Conchords, you are urged to buy their debut season on DVD immediately. This duo perfectly blends comedy and music in a way which is both hilarious, and musically satisfying. (Note: most comedic musicians are light on the music and often light on the comedy, too. But if anything is lacking, it's usually the music. Not here. Conchords has a knack for grooves and melodies that are catchy as hell, and make you laugh out loud.)

After poking fun at Janeane Garofolo who couldn't manage to obtain a seat, and was thus sitting on a folding chair in the side stage, Proops finally introduced the Conchords. The applause was deafening, especially for a 250-seat theatre. Out came Jemaine Clemente and Brett McKenzie, the two halves of the brilliant Flight of the Conchords. They were quiet and meek, leading me to believe that they were in character on stage, as well as on screen. However, a few minutes of stage time showed me that there really is very little difference between their HBO characters, and what I perceived their personalities to be. The biggest difference: they're clearly not idiots, while their onscreen counterparts are.

The show started with a new number about all the clever ways Jemaine has been dumped by his girlfriends ("Carol Brown left town; Mona's in a coma; Felicity said there was no electricity; Jane said she never wanted to see me again; when she saw me again, she said it again....") This was hilarious, however, Jemaine forgot the words and they pulled the plug (literally) on their bossa-nova harmonium beatmaker, which Jemaine 'played' with pizazz. Thankfully, they played this song again later in the set, and it was worth the wait!

The boys then embarked on several newer tunes, although they did play a fan favourite: "The Humans are Dead" to much applause. In between they would talk in their slow, New Zealand accents, with dead-pan brilliance that left us all in stitches. It was at this point that I regretted not bootlegging the show, although it wouldn't have been fair to the listener. I would have been laughing and guffawing the whole way through.

The Conchords finished a song and Greg Proops came out to chat. They waxed poetic about the recent mexican wrestling restaurant they had visited, or the recent air guitar contest they had judged, and then Greg announced that Jon Brion would come out and play some music with them. My favourite musician of all time, playing with two of my favourite comedians? I pooped my pants a little at this stage.

Jon came out (still full of energy) and jumped on the drums. Brett set him up for the beat, and Jon started to play. Then he looped it and jumped off the kit, and Brett and Jemaine made eyebrows (half jokingly) at Jon's prowess. Then Jon jumped on bass, mimicking the riff that Brett was plunking out on his acoustic, and again Brett was impressed, like an audience member marveling at a magician's trick. The trio proceeded to pump out a brilliant song about how rappers have hurt feelings. It was basically a list of everything that hurts their feelings. Brett jumped up to switch guitars in the middle of the song and Jemaine improvised, "it hurts my feelings when you leave the stage without telling me, Brett." In the background, Jon Brion was singing in his weird robotic/vocoder voice, "it hurts my feelings...." A pitch-perfect blend of music and comedy not to be missed.

Dark Knight in Shining Armor

Early this past Sunday, while the good boys and girls were out churching, Dara and I caught the highly anticipated film, "The Dark Knight." I've no time for proper film criticism, but I will say that the film deserves all the accolades it receives. Nearly.

Most praise for the film has fallen on Heath Ledger's stunning performance, and rightly so. The hair stands on your head as you watch flesh out the scenes we all obsessively glimpsed in the countless trailers. Ledger's performance threatens to eclipse the movie and almost would do so, if not for Nolan's careful handling of the story. The cinematography fits the tone, as does the haunting music. The Joker's leitmotif comes to mind as a couple of notes fighting it out, sounding like a vacuum cleaner eerily signal to the viewer that the Joker is about to chill and thrill us.

So what's wrong with this movie? My complaint is not great, and would easily have been rectified if someone had invited me to a pre-screening. The biggest albatross weighing the film down is the clunky subplot involving Aaron Eckhart's Two Face character. This character promises more than it can possibly deliver in a 2.5+ hour movie. In fact, that's another complaint: the length. This movie didn't have to be so long, and if Chris Nolan had excised the Two Face character, or at least diminished his involvement in the film, he would have all but eliminated my complaints (which is a huge concern for him, to be sure).

But there is one more minor complaint: as brilliant as Christian Bale is at resurrecting the Batman character, his barking-dog delivery of the dialog while wearing the cowl is tiresome.

But the complaints are minor. "The Dark Knight" was a great viewing experience, highly recommended to all. Next up, the following question: how does it stack up against Tim Burton's immortal original?

Pick your Poison

This week I read two remarkable, and remarkably bleak dystopian books. The first was a beautiful piece of prose with the Oprah seal of approval called "The Road." This book is set in a post-Apocalyptic world which follows the story of the Man and the Boy as they traverse the eponymous Road across stricken America. In this book, the father and son avoid cannibalistic tribes of bad guys, struggle to find food and keep out the elements in an exploration of the darkest side of humanity.

At the same time I dusted off the classic dystopian universe which Orwell showed us in the classic "1984." Most people are familiar with the threats in this book: Big Brother, the telescreens, thought crime/police, the disappearances in the night; a government that completely dominates ever aspect of life, from sexuality and social interaction to work and death.

Both realities are terrifying, of course, but I started to think about which one scared me more, the pure anarchy of the former, or the repressive totalitarianism of the latter. With totalitarianism, life is a bleak existence of supply rations, zero freedom and constant fear of death. In anarchy, survival itself becomes an issue, and hope is a vague concept.  Again with the constant fear of death.

Clearly neither is desirable, but with a totalitarian regime, the end will always come. Repressive regimes are not bound to last. But anarchy can persist indefinitely. And roving bands of cannibals! It's easy: I'd take Big Brother to the bleak reality of "The Road."