In January 2010, Dennis Hopper was diagnosed with inoperable prostate cancer, which was in an advanced state and had spread to his bones. At roughly the same time, I was lucky enough to view the documentary Not Quite Hollywood, a retrospective concerning Ozlpoitation fiilms, an intriguing and insightful doc concerning the Australian film industry and its bid for international recognition during the 70s and 80s. This film brought to my attention a rather curious Dennis Hopper vehicle called Mad Dog Morgan. Said film was produced by Australian investors, with a B-movie director (Philippe Mora, who preceded to craft such cinematic abortions as Howling II: Stirba – Werewolf Bitch and Howling III), I wasn’t expecting much. To my surprise, Mad Dog Morgan delivered on all fronts. It functions as a comedy, a tragedy, an exploitation film, a period drama, a western, and finally (and most importantly) a work of art. It is truly a credit to Hopper’s skills as an actor that he rises above the source material he is given and creates a character both brutally violent and beautifully flawed and imperfect. Sadly, Mr. Hopper’s time grows short, and we begin to brace ourselves for the loss of a man who helped to define a generation.
Mad Dog Morgan is based on the true story of John Fuller (aka Dan Morgan), an Australian bushranger (the outback equivalent of the outlaw gunslingers that roamed the western United States at the close of the 19th century), a fairly irredeemable individual who shot game and man with equal disregard, yet lived by a code whose particulars were known only to himself. He eventually met his end at the hands of police while trying to escape from the house of a family he had recently held hostage in 1864. The film paints a much more sympathetic picture of Morgan than his real world exploits do, yet one must remember while viewing the film that this is less a historical retelling than it is a dramatic character study, seeking to delve into the mind of a character that would rather reject civilization than continue to exist in the maelstrom of its hypocrisy.
Die Antwoord hit the internet like a nuclear bomb, the energetic South African group (parody?) has been making a huge splash with their eclectic videos, being most recently featured on Attack of the Show. There is more than just the surface appeal to Die Antwoord though, they bring a whole new flavor to rap that is catching people’s ears across the globe. Group DJ Hi-Tek brings some seriously catchy and dance based beats to their music giving it a well produced sound that matches well with their schizophrenic mix of styles and influences. Waddy Jones (aka. Ninja) is an impressive and lyrically accomplished MC, able to lay down some aggressive, tight, and often endearingly self aggrandizing lyrics with a style that may seem silly at times, but always lead one to believe that there may be more parody and commentary going on than you first realize. He seems to walk the line between GZA and GG Allin at any given moment.
Keep an eye on their style as well, Yo-Landi Vi$$er may be slated to become the Fergie of the alt scene, like a punk/sexy Lady Sovereign possessing a deconstructed and often thrift store chic style mixed with some interesting twists that very well may get quickly picked up by those in the know looking for something different (I guarantee that her hair style, my current coif obsession, is an early precursor to some styles I am already starting to see make it into the zeitgeist, I cannot wait to see some more runway shows and editorials rocking a look like that).
The 2010 Winter Olympics opened this weekend in Vancouver. I personally am not a huge sports fan, but I don’t hold that angsty teenage “I hate sports” mentality anymore. I have however, always enjoyed the Olympics, especially the winter ones. After watching trials and build up on Universal Sports (one of the few stations I get without cable) and the opening events this weekend, I know for the 2010 Olympics, I’m following Johnny Weir.
While I don’t know if he’s the best male figure skater based on talent, he is my favorite 2010 Olympian based on style. The outfits he wears while performing are awesome glitzed, glittered, feathered, shiney, and bold. His costumes embrace the horrible figure skating ensemble and make it amazing through a glam rock look and attitude. The outfits are topped with glammed-out black hair and creative makeup. For his exhibition program this season he chose Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face”, nodding at another star people love or hate, and who also draws on alternative fashion.
Catch Johnny Weir in men’s short program figure skating today, in the United States it will be on NBC.
Auxiliary Magazine would like to introduce its newest writer and column; Adam Rosina and Unaussprechlichen Kulten, respectively. A new column that looks far too deep into the morgues and mausoleums of of cult cinema for those amazing but unsung movies that just refuse to die.
Six String Samurai is a mish mashed, convoluted mess of a film. It’s also wildly entertaining, if you’re willing to overlook its flaws. Shot by writer/director Lance Mungia, turning in his only feature-length directorial credit (unless you count The Crow: Wicked Prayer, and I don’t), and released in those “anything goes” days of 90s indie cinema. Six String Samurai stars actor/martial artist Jeffrey Falcon (also known for his roles in, well, nothing anyone’s ever seen) as a sword-swinging Buddy Holly look-alike journeying across the wasteland on a quest to become the King of rock n roll. Along the way it offers its own take on post-apocalyptic fiction, incorporating elements from such diverse sources as the western genre, Japanese chambara films, bad sci-fi movies, and the modern fairy tale. Which is not to say that the filmmakers simply cut and pasted the best parts from other works to create this film, but rather brought together many different kinds of genre fiction and made it their own.
A fun, grimy, and dark video for Ascii.Disko. I will now be obsessed with thoughts of a latex clad fox woman stalking me through dark tunnels in some sort of post-rapture Japanese reality television show. There is something about this track combined with the visuals that’s quite disorienting, like a Fukui or Tsukomoto film scored by Vitalic. In many ways Ascii.Disko’s video does share a common flavor with Japanese cyberpunk films, especially with something like Fukui’s Rubbers Lover, albeit with a slicker and more modern visual style.
Julian Casablancas of The Strokes solo project has been a bit of a guilty pleasure for me as of late. It’s the kind of fun, smart, and well informed pop rock that, while prevalent in the musical landscape right now is rarely done this well. But he locked my admiration with the video for “11th Hour”, the first single from his solo album. A mish mash of eclectic imagery; electric 80s neon lightening juxtaposed with Adam Antesque imagery of Julian in highwayman garb and a healthy dose of post apocalyptic sci-fi pirate radio. Casablancas’ voice is perfectly suited to this style of music, and while not as raw as the garage inspired sounds of earlier Strokes material, I find myself liking his solo outings and non-Strokes collaborations more and more.
There exists a movie, out there is the ether of world cinema, that has been able to satisfy all my worldly expectations and criteria when considering what makes a film fun. A film that’s not deep, heart wrenching, or dramatic; just plain, old fashioned, goddamned fun. Part moving comic book, part asian cyberpunk treatise, part noise rock manifesto, and part badass throw down between two powerhouse characters. Unsurprisingly starring two of Japan’s most interesting, unique, and talented actors: Tadanobu Asano (Mongol, Ichi the Killer, Last Life in the Universe) and Masatoshi Nagase (Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train, Suicide Circle, Cold Fever) as Dragon Eye Jim Morrison and Thunderbolt Buddha respectively. This 55 minute piece pushes two out of the ordinary characters together for one brutally cinematic and sublimely ridiculous final showdown. Filmed in stark black and white, and accompanied by a heavily distorted and guitar heavy noise rock soundtrack by Tadanobu Asano and director Sogo Ishi’s excessively fun noise band; Mach 1.67. Electric Dragon 80,000 Volts is a must see film for those nights when you have 10 friends over and far to much alcohol in your bloodstream. A short, brilliant, bright, and violent film that never lets up, holds nothing back, and is smart enough to end before it burns out. If you are a fan of such films as Wild Zero, Tokyo Zombie, Tetsuo: The Iron Man, or 964 Pinnochio, than this is a must see, and it’s available on netflix.
Director Alex Cox has made Repo Chick, a spiritual successor to his 1984 punk rock sci-fi odyssey Repo Man. From viewing the trailer for Repo Chick though, it seems to hold little of the spirit of the original. For those not familiar with this great cult film, Repo Man is the story of Otto (Emilio Estevez, is one of his best roles) a disaffected Los Angeles punker who gets caught up in the repossession business thanks to a speed addled repo man extraordinaire named Bud (Harry Dean Stanton). Where the movie starts to twist is with the introduction of a 1964 Chevy Malibu whose trunk contains something deadly, and possibly not of this earth.
Repo Man captures the bland aesthetics and impotent rage of the suburban faux punk lifestyle rebelling against an era where homogeny was praised. Menial jobs, bad fluorescent lighting, and products labeled with nothing more than their names, e.g. a can simply labeled “food” and beer in an unadorned white can save for the word “beer”. It’s when Otto starts to dig below the surface that he finally finds a driving force to get off his ass, and possibly the planet. Repo Man also has one of the finest 80s punk soundtracks outside of Return of the Living Dead. A mix of Black Flag, Circle Jerks, The Plugz, Fear, and Suicidal Tendencies that fits the film like a custom made sonic glove. Repo Man is a film very closely tied to one place and one era that has not really lost any of its charm or relevance thanks to its ability to transcend its initial purpose. It will be interesting to see where Repo Chick falls into place.
With the current trend of fantastical films on the rise, so many people seem excited for the upcoming Tim Burton helmed Alice in Wonderland but neglect that a true master of the wondrous and surreal, Terry Gilliam also has a remarkable project on the way. The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, from description alone, sounds like an amazing production. The remarkably talented Heath Ledger’s final film before his unfortunate passing left the film uncompleted. Gilliam, rather than end the project like he was forced to with this previous production The Man Who Killed Don Quixote seems to have transformed Dr. Parnassus into a fitting tribute to a talent that was snuffed too early. The dreamlike qualities of the film allowed for a unique technique to be employed in its completion, Ledger’s friends would be cast as a transformation of the same character as the film moves through alternate realities. Gilliam then cast Johnny Depp, Colin Ferrel, and Jude Law as reinterpretations of Ledger’s final role to complete the film. But having four dynamite talents playing one single character is not nearly where it stops. You also get Christopher Plummer in the titular role, and perhaps, in the most appropriate piece of casting ever, Tom Waits as the Devil. Wrap all of this up with Gilliam’s signature surreal visions and whimsical nature, and you have a movie that I am literally drooling to see. Check out the trailer below.
In a video that can best be described as an M.C. Escher drawing in a Ballardian car crash with a keyboard necktie. (coming from me, that’s meant as a good thing) La Roux has cemented themselves as one of my new favorite acts. The stunningly androgynous Elly Jackson wanders though an ever shifting landscape of shapes and colors in this three and a half minute pop masterpiece, accentuated by fractures, crashes, neon, and a brilliant fashion aesthetic that runs through the whole video. La Roux has found that magic formula of great music, aesthetics, and mystery that served figures like Bowie, Madonna, and Prince so well. If you throw a bit of Vitalic’s sonic influence into that mix and you end up with a fashionable, sculpturally coifed, tough, and musically sublime figure that, if this and any of their other singles are any indications will become one of the major acts of the next few years.
