In case you weren’t aware, I’m an old-school goth, firmly aware that early ROSETTA STONE was basically SISTERS OF MERCY mimicry.
But with -The Tyranny of Inaction- and the -nothing- E.P. they turned the corner and merged their sound with a more electro-infused sensibility and remixed some of their older work into far more invigorating pieces, such as -Adrenaline-.
I’m stupidly physically hyper-sensitive to a debilitating extent, but extremely percussive songs really help me cope for some reason, and I absolutely thrill to not just this song, but this very succinct remix. I visibly glow while listening to it and just want to launch myself around. It’s a very fun time.
I’m not going to get into the politics of M.I.A. — and there’s definitely some questionable phrasing in “Bad Girls” — but I couldn’t help but think of this video from director Romain Gavras after watching RODEO. It’s an absolute banger and the video is quite the accomplishment and absolutely glorious. See for yourself:
“My chain hits my chest when I’m banging on my dashboard! My chain hits my chest when I’m banging on the radio!”
For most of my life I went by a different name for weird reasons that were not my own. There was always a lot of confusion — it took me forever to finally pivot to the easiest solution and, truth be told, I’m not completely happy with it! It does not help that the name I go by is constantly misspelled. (I’ve harped on the Glenn-with-two-ns in the past!)
I realize that isn’t exactly the point of the song, but damn, I identify with it too much.
I fucking love this song, not just because of that though. It has a brilliant build-up; it absolutely glows and gives comfort! It’s so much fun, especially with all of the blonde and caps and bangs and primary colors and percussive naught-looks! It also has a confidence that I can’t help but allude to. Stupidly, while I’m far too old for this sort of thing, it’s 100% a song I’d bounce on my bed to.
“I miss the catch if they throw me the ball! I’m the last chick standing up against the wall!”
My favorite part of this video is how breathless it is at the end. I can never get enough of folks exhausting themselves.
ADDENDUM
Lastly: this live rendition is ridiculously infectious:
My wife introduced me to THE AVALANCHES, well before we were even engaged, and as it was all sampled-laden heaven, I loved it.
A few lines have stuck in my craw over the past few years:
The stuff about a bird hurts, because I stupidly and absolutely grew up around exotic birds. Climbed a tree to rescue one as a youth. And yeah, of course a parrot talks because it’s reaching out. I am literally written into a will to receive a parrot, which I’m sure our neighbors are not looking forward to.
The “tighten your buttocks” riff is something I can’t help but think HARLEY QUINN cribbed from.
Original:
Reanimated:
Frankly, I’m of the opinion that the original is far stranger than anything served up in the multifaceted rendition, but I applaud its efforts!
I don’t know how much you know about goth or industrial clubs — at least in Chicago (and excepting EXIT) — but the general rule is: don’t fucking touch strangers, which I realize sounds antithetical for dance clubs. (I’ll note: movies definitely misrepresent these spaces, almost to a dangerous degree.)
Sure, there’s the accidental bumping, but for the most part? The great part of these clubs are: let people dance their dance and don’t intrude. That was kind of a strange idea for clubs when I was growing up, in the age of MTV groping, but damn I’m so glad they had that ethos. I have a lot of issues, but these clubs were safe spaces which — again — I realize sounds antithetical for dance clubs. It helped that most of them were nested in queer communities. I’m stupidly physical, but also extremely wary of anyone who comes into my radius, so it was delightful to have clubs where I could just feel free. (It also helped that I occasionally was the DJ.)
The Chicago club bouncers are very good at their jobs, at being mindful of bad behavior. Hell, even my wife and I were kicked out of NEO [R.I.P.] once for being way too rambunctious, and rightfully so.
To me, that’s what U + UR HAND — both the song and video — is emblematic of:
“Don’t touch — back up.”
While I love the song, I adore the video, especially with it leaning on all sorts of characters and dystopian design. It’s a video I return to time-and-time again, and not just because it’s also heavily riffed on in the severely underrated and under-watched 12 MONKEYS TV show.
I was lucky enough to enjoy this song when it aired (even as an older dude and absolutely knew what this was fully about), but read the YouTube comments and see how influential P!NK has been. She doesnot get enough credit.
(YouTube) I caught DESIRE AND HELL AT SUNSET MOTEL (1991) as part of a triple Sherilyn Fenn feature during the recent David Lynch complete retrospective. While it conflicted with the last Swanberg Secret Screening at the Davis, I couldn’t resist — there’s only one print, and no one apart from the organizer of this retrospective will probably care enough about the film to jump through the hoops to screen it again. There are plenty of LaserDisc and VHS copies available via eBay (and a copy on YouTube if you look for it) but, apart from the home market, it went mostly unseen, and will probably continue to do so.
That’s a goddamn shame, because this is a wildly fun bit of throwback color noir, perfectly framed with beautiful blues all around that makes it ideal for the big screen, and it makes the most of Sherilyn Fenn’s abilities.
To summarize: husband and ‘small toy seller’ Chester (Whip Hubley) travels out for a company conference to California with his wife Bridey (Sherilyn Fenn), and stay at the Sunset Motel, managed by a leering voyeur (the always delightful Paul Bartel). Chester suspects that Bridey is cheating on him, so he hires someone known as Deadpan (CUBE’s David Hewlett) to shadow her while there. Meanwhile, Bridey has finagled a dude she’s lead along known as Auggie (David Johansen/Buster Poindexter) to meet her there to kill Chester with his own gun. Matters escalate, then completely fragment as Bridey’s memory starts to falter.
The story barely holds together and the dialogue is overly colorful in a way that almost feels like a parody of hard-boiled patois, but despite all that, it is a thrilling ride that leans into its frenzied plotting. However, it mostly succeeds because Fenn was born for these sort of retro-noir films, exuding danger and seduction not just with her stark hair and beauty mark, but her demeanor and poise; Ava Gardner reborn.
Maria Bamford is well-known (well, among comedy nerds) as being a major figure of 90s alt-comedy, but also for being a comedian’s comedian. Part of it has to do with her command over her voice — if you’ve watched anything animated over the past fifteen or so years, you have heard her extremely versatile voice — but also over her command of tone. She knows how to balance serious material with absurdity through little more than a lilt or twitch.
She also had a semi-autobiographical two-season Netflix show — LADY DYNAMITE — which was a deep dive into her reckoning with mental illness. It was brilliant and laugh-out-loud funny and featured a lot of pugs.
In the before-times, I even managed to catch a performance of hers at Chicago’s Den Theatre and walked away dazed, half-drunk on laughs and self-reflection. After the show, I hung around the bar, reading a book in a cushy chair, listening to a fantastic DJ, and I watched as she spent time with everyone that approached her. She was at her merch table for well over an hour, listening to people, joking with them, making sure they felt seen and cared for.
She’s a goddamn comedic saint, and every one of her works deserve to be in the limelight. She filmed a stand-up special entitled THE SPECIAL SPECIAL SPECIAL where the only audience members were her very supportive mother and father, which I implore you to seek out. It’s an astoundingly awkward, but yet heartfelt work, partially because of Bamford’s mimicry regarding her parents — especially her mother.
Consequently, I was stunned to hear that her mother recently died of lung cancer, and that Bamford did a tight five of it on the March 11th, 2022 THE LATE LATE SHOW.
Here’s where I hand matters off to Vulture’s Jesse David Fox, who is both extremely empathic and brilliant at dissecting comedy. Read his post, watch the piece, and be prepared to laugh and cry:
FALLEN ANGELS was a mid-90s neo-noir anthology on SHOWTIME that I only recently heard of, but the fifth episode of the first season, entitled Murder, Obliquely, features Laura Dern, Alan Rickman, Diane Lane, was co-written by Amanda Silver (THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE and a number of the new PLANET OF THE APES films) and directed by Alfonso Cuarón (CHILDREN OF MEN, ROMA). That’s a stellar team right there.
Murder, Obliquely is also based on the Cornell Woolrich short story of the same name. Woolrich wrote the source material for REAR WINDOW among loads of other very successful works, but by others accounts he had a very unhappy life: he married a woman in 1930 while knowing he was gay; the marriage was annulled three years later; despite being a prolific and successful writer, he was also a self-destructive alcoholic, living with his mother in shithole apartments until she died; then he spiraled out completely and became a recluse until he died.
I mention this because this adaptation of Murder, Obliquely very clearly leans into this background, if you read between the lines. (I’ll note that I have yet to read the short it’s based on.) It’s a Sirkian noir of infatuation — Annie (Laura Dern) becomes obsessed with inherited-millionaire Dwight Billings (Alan Rickman) but he can’t get over his ex, the recently-married Bernette Stone (Diane Lane). The story ends with everyone miserable, as noirs do.
Despite having the gauzy veneer of 90s cable television, it’s remarkable stylish with its costuming and art design — especially Dwight’s art deco home — as well as the dialogue, which manages to be distinct without feeling too broad. If you have thirty minutes to spare, it’s a great way to spend some time.
I don’t think anyone will mind a direct link to a fan rip in this case:
As previously noted, my wife and I have a tradition where I draft up a selection of horror films for Halloween viewing, and she picks one from each group: Contemporary, Classic, and Cult, and I thought I’d share my suggestions this year. Today features cult horror films, and mostly features the exact text I sent her. And yes, I know, defining what is horror and what is considered ‘cult’ horror is like splitting hairs, but rule of three, folks!
Again, apologies for leaning on prior works. Again, Halloween weekend! I have other terrors to read, watch, and write!
HELLO MARY LOU: PROM NIGHT II (1987, AMC+/hoopla/peacock/Shudder/tubi/VOD/Vudu) or PROM NIGHT III: THE LAST KISS (1990, YouTube)
Previously suggested. “The first PROM NIGHT is fine, but mostly remembered because of how bare Jamie Lee Curtis gets, and for riffing on CARRIE. PROM NIGHT II twists the first film’s premise and goes for broke — also, a rare woman supernatural slasher, and they were clearly hoping some of NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET would rub off on the film — and PROM NIGHT III turns the franchise into an amazing, albeit often puerile, horror-comedy. They’re both very entertaining and smart in their own ways.”
PROM NIGHT II trailer:
PROM NIGHT III trailer:
Shh, don’t tell anyone but, as it’s practically impossible to stream a legal version, here you are:
A Joe Dante (GREMLINS, INNERSPACE) work, which means warm-hearted love for misfit youths and being scared by B-movies, while still having a subversive political voice and viewpoint. It was one of the first post-lockdown films I saw at the Music Box, but it’s endlessly re-watchable.
(Editor’s note: I cheated a bit here, as I normally would consider this contemporary and not cult, although I fully believe it’s destined to become a cult film. I also lifted most of it for my write-up.)
This one really surprised me: it’s a darkly comic fusion of THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME with Christie’s AND THEN THERE WERE NONE, with an amazing cast that includes Andie MacDowell, Samara Weaving (Thea, from BILL AND TED FACE THE MUSIC), Adam Brody (probably don’t need to write this but: from THE OC, JENNIFER’S BODY, GILMORE GIRLS), Melanie Scrofano (Wynonna in WYNONNA EARP), and Kristian Bruun (Donnie from ORPHAN BLACK). It’s a surprisingly well-executed film. I recently happened upon a promotional READY OR NOT shirt I received for the film when I left a 24-hour film fest early last year, and opted to keep it as a nostalgia shirt, sitting alongside my BLAIR WITCH PROJECT shirt.
Even though I don’t believe in spoilers, I would stop the trailer after the first minute. There are a ton of fun surprises in the film that work great with the trailer, but even better if you experience them in the film itself.
![ROSETTA STONE – ADRENALINE [AGAIN] (1995)](https://mediaclature.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/03/rosetta-stone-adrenaline-1.jpg)
