Heaven Sent

The Man in Black fled across the desert, and The Doctor followed...

Doctor Who is an interesting show to be a fan of as an adult. In the UK it is promoted as a "family program," an idea  that has largely fallen out of vogue here in the United States. Here entertainment feels much more divided between children and adult. Outside of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, there is very little genre entertainment being produced that is suitable for people of all ages.

The Doctor though, is different. He tries to appeal to a large fanbase that spans decades in age. It is after all, a show that has been on the air for over fifty years. That can lead to some tonal inconsistency, as one episode might deal with Robin Hood fighting robots, while the next will be about how being functionally immortal will slowly destroy whatever sense of morals you might have. It's a disconnect that a lot of people have trouble reconciling in their minds, but if you allow yourself to be charmed and lulled by the sillier adventures, then when the show does take a turn towards the dark, its effects can be all the more powerful.

The most recent episode, Heaven Sent, is a tour de force for star Peter Capaldi. He is the only actor on screen for 95 percent of the hour, with only a faceless monster to bounce off of. It is a puzzlebox mystery, the kind that show runner Steven Moffat excels at, and that both delight and infuriate viewers in equal measure. The Doctor has been transported to castle prison that is constantly rearranging it's rooms and it corridors, Hogwarts by way of Steven King's Dark Tower. As he makes his way through the castle, it increasingly becomes clear to both him and the viewer that he has done all of this before. In fact he has performed the same actions over and over again for the past seven thousand years. How this is possible is a neat piece of technobabble about teleportation and the difficulty of killing a Time Lord. It is easily the best episode of this Doctor's run and maybe the best episode of the entire new era of Doctor Who, give or take a Blink.

Personal

When I was twelve years old my parents signed my brother and I up for a week of summer camp at the Dedham Racquet Club. It was hot and boring and the only reason we didn't complain is because at the end of the day we got to go on the waterslide. One day it was pouring rain, so the counselors brought us inside to watch movies and mess around on the racquet ball courts. It was there that I received some kid's backhand swing directly to the face and busted my lip wide open. This was before cell phones, so when my mother didn't answer at work they called the only other phone number I had memorized, my grandfather's. Papa arrived, and we somehow ended up at a plastic surgeon's office in Wellesley where I received five stitches in my upper lip. Now I was a sensitive child under the best of circumstances, so understand that I was a sobbing mess through the entire ordeal. My grandfather handled it all with the same good humor and kindness he handled all interactions with his grandchildren, and even managed to find a Brigham's right near the doctor's office and bought me a cone on our way home. He passed away today, after a long and awful illness. RIP Papa, love you.

Captain America said, you better be like me or you're gonna wind up dead.

the star spangled man with a plan 

While Batman has always been, and I imagine always will be, my favorite superhero, Captain America runs a very close second. One of the first comics I can remember purchasing is the What If... cover featured at the top of the post, which is a story in which Captain America manages to save the life of the scientist who created the Super Serum, and he an his crew of Super Soldier Howling Commandos run rough shot over the whole German army. Like most of the What If series it is heavily dependent on subverting decades of Marvel history, of which eight year old Steve knew absolutely nothing. It still manged to become one of my favorite stories, and I read it constantly. I didn't even really mind that it ended on a cliffhanger, and years later when I did come across the second part (What If...Captain America had formed the Avengers for those interested) it failed to really live up to my expectations, as it just returned history to the status quo with a few minor cosmetic changes. (What If... after all had a pretty strong run of doing this to all the major Marvel stories.)

When I got back into comics in my mid-twenties, it was Ed Brubaker's run on Captain America that really sucked into the Marvel Universe. Until that point I had been content to read Grant Morrison's Batman run (which is stellar) and all the major DC crossovers (which were very much not stellar), but the Cap run was what got me coming back to the comics shop week after week. I even plunked down fifty bucks to get the big fat omnibus that covered the first 25 issues of the story.

All of which means I was really excited last week to sit in a theater last week and watch Captain America: Winter Soldier, a film highly influenced by that Brubaker run on the series, and a film that might be my favorite Marvel movie to date. Chris Evans reprises the role of Captain America, his third outing after 2011's Captain America: The First Avenger, and 2012's The Avengers. I thought Evans was good in the previous films but he really shines here. Cap's portrayal as "A man out of time" has been key to his characterization for the past forty years or so (ever since Stan Lee retconned both his death and his survival at the end of WWII) and this is the first real opportunity that Evans has had to play the role this way. Cap's civilian identity of Steve Rodgers is public knowledge, but unlike with Tony Stark, he's not courting publicity. He haunts the edges of Washington DC in a baseball cap and hoodie, attending a museum exhibit on his life, or visiting the woman he loved 70 years ago as she lies dying in a nursing home. He is a natural leader, but as he confides to Black Widow during the course of the movie, what he could really use is a friend. Which of course, leaves him wide open for gut punch reveal of the Winter Soldier's identity.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier is heavily influenced by the paranoid and claustrophobic spy films of the 1970s. The middle of the film plays very much like "Three Days of the Condor, but with Super Heroes." (The Condor himself, Robert Redford, even has a role in the film as the powerful and shadowy government agent who you probably shouldn't trust) While those films were heavily influenced by the Watergate scandal, and that breach of trust between government and its people, this film takes that breach as a given. Much like the TV show Homeland, it takes a look at the cost of freedoms caused by everything from drones, to NSA surveillance. Granted, in Homeland the surveillance isn't being conducted by a Nazi scientist who has uploaded his brain into a giant UNIMAC super computer, but lets be honest, wouldn't that show be better if it was?

Hannibal (Brief Hits)

Harvey Dent:(holds up coin): You live. (Flips coin over) You die.
The Joker: (Smiling): Now we're talking.

Hannibal Lecter sits in his chair staring at his patient. She is Bella Crawford, wife to Jack Crawford, who is Hannibal's friend, his boss, and his unknowing pursuer. Bella is dying of lung cancer, and she has just informed Hannibal that she has taken a lethal overdose of morphine, and is about to die. This is not really a surprise, after all Hannibal all but told her take this action earlier in the episode. "Death is not a defeat, but a cure." As Hannibal considers her unconscious body, he picks up a coin that Bella had given to him as a parting gift. He considers it, and then casually give it a flip. Its heads, his decision is made. He will save her life against her will.

Mads Mikkelsen, who plays Hannibal, says he portrays the character as if he were Lucifer himself. He will meticulously influence someone to take on action, then will deliberately sabotage them, just so that he might witness the chaos that will cause. His actions to those around him seem cruel and arbitrary, like the flip of a coin. When Bella awakes to find herself very much alive she is furious at Hannibal. She doesn't understand how he could do this to her. During their earlier conversation she and Hannibal discuss the resurrection of Lazarus, and Bella laments that she doesn't know anyone in her social circles who has the power of life or death. Hannibal smirks at this insight. He knows that she is wrong.

Shine On You Crazy Diamond: My Favorite Concerts Part 2

"Damn sure better than the rain"
Gov't Mule (w/opener Back Door Slam) The Orpheum Theatre Boston 10/31/08

Warren Haynes is a hardworking man. I've seen him perform three times, each time with a different band. A hard rocking blues guitarist, Haynes currently has regular gigs playing with the Allman Brothers, The Dead, and Gov't Mule, not to mention his frequent solo tours or the eponymous Warren Haynes Band. I kind of suspect that if he ever stopped touring for a moment his body would collapse from years of built up exhaustion. Sort of like a rock and roll perpetual motion machine.

On Halloween night 2008 I made my way over to the Orpheum Theatre to catch Gov't Mule play what promised to be an interesting show. For those who don't know, in the jam band community Halloween shows are considered to be special occasions. Many bands will "dress up" as another band for one of their sets, covering songs by that band or even performing entire albums. For example the band Phish, who were one of the first bands to popularize practice, famously played Loaded by the Velvet Underground on Halloween 1998. Rumors spread through the lobby and men's room before the show that this year they would be covering Pink Floyd, as apparently an inflatable pig icon had appeared on the band's website that morning. By the time I reached my seat the buzzed crowd had managed to inflate this rumor like some stoned version of telephone, so now not only were they playing "Physical Graffiti by Pink Floyd" but that David Gilmour was in the building and would be sitting in. I even allowed myself to believe that one for half a second, but it of course turned out not to be true.

British blues band Back Door Slam opened the night with an extremely entertaining set. They had a nice mix of blues standards, and original songs that seemed heavily influenced by past British blues bands like Cream. It was easy to see why the Mule would have chosen them to open the tour. Mule then came out and played a strong first set of their own songs, as well as a fantastic tease of "St. Stephen" by the Grateful Dead, a song that's always been dear to me for obvious reasons.
After a short intermission it was time for the main event. As the band came out the unmistakable wind chasm noises began to make their way around the sound system of the Orpheum, and the band began to play "One of These Days." They then made their way through Pink Floyd's greatest hits, with lots of great little touches thrown to heighten the effect. At the end "Fearless" the soccer hooligan chant that appears on the album version of the song could be heard in the background, and at another point a giant inflatable pig popped out of the side of the stage. My favorite performance may have been their cover of "Have a Cigar." First off, drummer Matt Abts took lead vocal, since the original Floyd version featured guest vocals by a singer named Roy Harper. Secondly they changed some of the lyrics to better suit the band so when it came time to sing the famous line "Which one's Pink?" they changed it to "I really think that's cool/ By the way, which one's the Mule?"

The performance ended with one of the few Floyd songs that I believe was already in the bands repertoire, "Wish You Were Here." Then the lights came up and everyone made their way to the doors with huge smiles on their faces. I had been so dazed by the music before that I hadn't realized so many people had shown up wearing their Halloween costumes. There was Bert & Ernie, Jerry Garcia, there were even two guys dressed up as The Dude and Walter. All of them made there way out into the warm autumn night, the good vibes of the show carrying them off into whatever tricks or treats could be found at this late hour.

The Music Never Stops: My Favorite Concerts

"Saranac will do just fine"

moe. Siena College New York 11/30/01

Confession time people. I am a hippie. A "dirty hippie" as my friend Drew would say. Sure I may not look the part, I keep my hair clean and short, I wash my clothes, I believe in owning property, but make no mistake; beneath my cold dead chest beats the tye-dyed heart of a hippie.

This means I've been to a fair number of concerts in my day. There was a brief period in my life where I followed a band called moe. up and down the east coast. Since leaving college, I've had less and less times for shows, but I still try to go out and see a few concerts each year. I've decided to list off the best shows I've ever attended. In making this I'm considering not just the band's performance but the over all feel and ambiance of the entire concert. In other words, the vibes.

So lets talk about moe. As I mentioned earlier I've seen this band play a lot, probably close to twenty times. And believe me, that number is small compared to some other people I know. moe. (and that's not a typo, the correct spelling of the bands name includes a lower case m and a period at the end) has been described, somewhat unfairly, as a poorman's Phish. This is due largely to the fact that they experienced a surge in popularity in the early 2000s while Phish was on their great hiatus. But other than sharing a love of noodling guitar solos, moe. is distinctly their own band, with each show a strong mix of covers as well as their own standards.

In November of 2001, my friends and I saw that the band would be playing a show at a college in central New York. Over Thanksgiving break a few of them had gone to New York City, where moe. had put on a monster two night show at the Hammerstein Ballroom, and they were all itching to see them again. This was to be my first time seeing the band and the trip, if I remember correctly, was a spur of the moment decision. One of my friends had brought his car back to school after Thanksgiving break, and we decided the only logical thing to do was take a roadtrip. So with Josh and Rob in the front seat, and myself Jess and Gypsy piled into the back, we made the three hour trip to Loudonville New York and Siena College. Siena is a tiny little liberal arts school, the type of place I sometimes regret not attending myself. We didn't have tickets, but moe. has never been the type of band to sell out an arena, so we were able to get tickets at the box office with no problem. The concert took place in what felt like a high school auditorium, and we ended up standing practically in the front row.

It had turned out that George Harrison, my favorite Beatle, had died earlier that day, and when the band came out for the second set they performed a spectacular version of "While my Guitar Gently Weeps." That pretty much sealed the show for me as being a worthwhile trip. The rest of the show was equally solid. My freshman year roommate Tyler, who for reasons I can't remember did not make this trip, used to play their music in our room constantly, so despite never seeing them before, I was familiar with all their songs. In the years that followed, I would end up seeing other shows that had stronger set lists and tighter performances, but this one has always been my favorite. Good music with good friends, it was just an incredibly happy experience.

Here is the set list of that night's performance:

1: Bring It Back Home > Water > Jazz Wank > Spaz Medicine > Buster > Spine Of A Dog

2: While My Guitar Gently Weeps > Mexico > Bullet (That Chuck Tune) > Meat

E: The Boys Are Back In Town

And here is an mp3 of "Mexico" from that night's performance, which contains a tease in the middle for "Here Comes the Sun."

A Short, Short Story

"We have nothing in common."

And there it was, the truth at last. We had been arguing for days, but it was only now, as she stood by the front door, an overnight back slung over her shoulder, that one of us had the courage to say it. The only thing that had kept us together these past few months was nothing more than fear and inertia. Part of my mind was jealous that it was her and not me who finally made the first move. The rest of me was frantically trying to think of a reason to stop her from walking out the door.

She stared at me, daring, begging me to deny what she had said. I could feel my desperation mounting as I racked my brain. Damn it, we had been together for over three years! In all that time, there had to have been something.

She sighed. A deep bracing sigh. I knew in a moment it would become too late. We'd never be able to go back. I needed to say something, anything to stop and allow me to think.

"What about 'Breakfast at Tiffanys'?" I found myself saying.

She was quiet for a moment. One endless beat of a moment. "I remember the film," she finally said, a hint of puzzled amusement in her voice.

"Thats good" I thought, "amusement is good, I can work with that." I chose my next word carefully.

"Well," I started, licking my lips. ""As I recall, I think... we both kind of liked it."

The words hung between us for an eternity. Then slowly, she placed her bag onto the floor.

"Well then" she said nodding, her eyes welling with tears, "that's one thing we got."

*LAME GUITAR SOLO*

The Five Worst Christmas Songs Ever

Each year in the city of Boston, the local oldies station changes their format the day after Thanksgiving, and plays strictly Christmas music for the next month. And each year I happily bump off the last station in my presets to make room for it on my car radio. It generally stays on that station throughout December, but there are several songs that send me scurrying for the sports talk channel as soon as I hear their opening notes. These are the five worst offenders of Christmas cheer.

Number 5: Feliz Navidad



Most Christmas songs have been covered multiple times by multiple artists, so you might hear "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" three times in an hour, but each version adds its own take so you don't really mind. Not so with this song. Jose Feliciano's version is the only one that ever seems to get played. You would be forgiven for thinking no one else had ever attempted to sing it, and it gets played ALL. THE. TIME.

Number 4 Wonderful Christmas Time



This song isn't so much awful as it is disappointing. Seemingly cut from the same creative swath that gave us "Silly Love Song", Sir Paul seems to be saying, I'm so popular I can record some half-assed lyrics, throw in some synthesizers and you idiots will make it a standard, and be happy to do so. And we were! This is made all the more shameful by the fact that his former writing partner John Lennon wrote the fantastic "Happy Xmas (War is Over)", and the two songs are always unfairly lumped together on Christmas compilations.

Number 3 Twelve Days of Christmas



Not much to say on this one, other than the fact that this song in interminable, and for some reason remains a staple at every child's Christmas pageant for the past sixty years.

Number 2 Any version of the Little Drummer Boy not sung by David Bowie and Bing Crosby



The Bing and Bowie version is a stone cold classic, and is one of only three Christmas songs I let stay on my iPod all year round (the other two are "Fairy Tale of New York, and the version of "Baby its Cold Outside" sung by Zooey Deschanel). Other takes on the song lean way too heavily on the parum pa pums, and end up working my last nerve.

Number 1 The Christmas Shoes

The mother fucking Christmas shoes! I'm not even going to include a link, that is how deep my disgust runs for "The Christmas Shoes." The hideously maudlin tale of some jerk buying a little kid a pair of shoes for his dying Mom to wear to heaven, it is an abomination against God and man, and it must be destroyed. Fortunately it seems to have made its way out of the rotation this year, but in the past it damn near inescapable.

Read a Book!

Achilles? The Illiad? It's Homer! Read a book!

Dennis Lehane has been one of my favorite authors going on twelve years now. I first started reading his books while I was in high school, and quickly worked my way through his series of detective novels featuring Boston PIs Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro. Gone Baby Gone, his fourth novel, is generally regarded as the series highpoint, and it was made into an excellent movie with Casey Affleck a few years ago. My favorite though has always been the second book Darkness Take my Hand. A huge step up stylistically from his debut novel, it really sets the template for the rest of the books to come. Plus it features serial killer clowns driving around Dorchester in a murder van, how can I not love it?

For the past ten years Lehane has seemingly tried to leave his mystery roots behind him. Claiming that he didn't want to turn into another Robert Parker churning out the same tired old book every eighteen months, he instead branched out, writing a few period novels, as well as achieving a successful career in Hollywood writing for shows like "The Wire." In fact he had made it clear in several interviews that he had no intention of returning to Kenzie and Gennaro, saying they weren't returning his calls. Which left me both surprised and a little worried when I saw that his latest work was a direct sequel to Gone Baby Gone. Would he have lost his handle on the characters voices in the preceding years? The answer I'm happy to say is no.

The story of Moonlight Mile picks up the characters lives in the present day, have aged ten real time years since we last saw them. Patrick and Angie, having just reconciled at the end of the last book, are now married with young daughter. Patrick has taken up a job doing freelance detective work for a big company that caters to the rich and powerful of New England who wish to keep their tawdry scandals discreet. He's fairly miserable as the story begins, as he and Angie are living paycheck to paycheck, and he finds himself both wishing for and disgusted by, the prospect of working for this investigation firm full time. One day on his way to work he is confronted by the aunt of Amanda McCreedy, the girl he found over twelve years ago, and had ripped away from the caring couple who kidnapped her from a neglectful drug addled mother. Amanda is now sixteen years old, and has disappeared again. And everyone seems to think Patrick owes it to her to find her again.

Its a very enjoyable story, and works both as a sequel and as a capper to the entire series. It earns bonus points from me for a key scene that occurs in the trailer park that is less than a mile from my home. I'd highly recommend this book to anyone who has enjoyed spending time with these characters in the past.

Money Never Sleeps

Oh Sally Sparrow, I love you so.

I went to the movies on Saturday with every intention of seeing the new Ben Affleck flick "The Town." Much to my surprise the two seven o'clock showings were sold out, despite this being its second week in theaters. (That may have something to do with my trying to see the movie in Boston, where the only thing we love more in life than sports is movies that make our citizens look like hardened gangsters.) Rather than wait around an hour for the next showing, I took a quick look at what else was playing and decided to check out Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps.

The previews had looked promising enough, at least as promising as any twenty year old sequel featuring Shia Labeouf can look. Michael Douglas was back as Gordon Gecko, with Oliver Stone directing, though the script was not by him. It plays largely like a remake of the first movie, with Shia standing for Charlie Sheen, Josh Brolin in the corporate raider role, and the mortgage crisis taking the place of insider training. This part of the story is fairly paint by numbers, but it was mostly redeemed by the other aspects of the story. Its basically a fictionalized version of the collapse of Lehman Bros, and the bursting of the housing bubble. The scenes that take place in the Fed board room are fascinating and feel like something out the Godfather. They even feature the fantastic Eli Wallach, who played a mafia Don in the otherwise forgettable Godfather Part III. It's reminiscent of Stone's other heightened history films like "W." "JFK" and "Nixon", and I gladly could have watched a whole film based around these scenes.

The other factor the film has going for it is Michael Douglas as Gecko. He's spent eight of the last twenty years locked up for his crimes, and the remaining years remaking himself into an author and cable news guest staple. After Shia looses his mentor at the beginning of the film he seeks Gecko out, ostensibly to reunite him with his estranged daughter, but what Shia really wants is someone to Sherpa him through the underworld of Wall Street. The film tries to play coy with Gecko's real motivations, I won't spoil what it is, but you shouldn't be surprised. I will say a last second "twist" feels tacked on, as if the producers were afraid to commit to the logical ending to story. Which is really too bad, as the scene that preceded, Gecko, alone in his office, staring at the gift Shia had given him would have been a powerful end for the character.

Overall, I'd rate the movie a B-. It's a sequel that no one was clamoring for, but its not the disaster it could have been.