Favorite Films of 2015

1. Spotlight

Workmanlike and morally complex with razor-sharp focus on the details, Spotlight is one of the finest, if not the absolute best, films ever produced about American journalism. It is devastating and quietly heroic with consummate integrity and honesty, and Tom McCarthy has crafted nothing short of an instant American classic. Featuring perhaps the best ensemble in a film this year and dealing with some seriously uncomfortable and tumultuous subject matter, Spotlight excels by refusing to sensationalize or become a spectacle. Nothing this year has had quite the breathtaking effect as the moments after Spotlight's end credits begin to roll.

2. Mad Max: Fury Road

 A gonzo, ultra-octane high-wire juggernaut of chrome-and-diesel genius that throws the rule book for summer blockbuster action flicks into the dumpster fire and gleefully rip roars into uncharted territory. That Miller has the balls to make it a badass feminist manifesto both honors the heart of the series and only makes Mad Max: Fury Road greater. 

3. Sicario

A gorgeously shot, chillingly scored, viscerally wrenching descent into internal and worldly hell centered around the invisible border trenches of the modern drug war and the inscrutable, sinister forces moving the pawns and shaping the narrative.

 

4. It Follows

Starting with conceit so great that it's almost unthinkable it hadn't been done before, It Follows proves from the opening frames alone that second-time writer-director David Robert Mitchell has something more amazing up his sleeve than merely a clever gimmick in an independent horror film. It's a work of sublime beauty, technical perfection, and relentless, masterfully earned suspense that delves into damning chasm separating innocence and adulthood while setting the action in the Anywhere, U.S.A. suburbs of Detroit before crossing 8 Mile into the city for the climax. Watch it first for the heart palpitations and unease set against Disasterpeace's brilliant score, and revisit It Follows time and again for Mitchell's filmmaking bravado and the sumptuously shot sequences that linger in your head long after the credits roll.

 

5. The End of the Tour

A two character road film that stirs the soul and tackles the spectrum of what it means to be human with towering intelligence, wit, generosity and empathy. A celebration of the greatest writer of his generation that gets to the heart of the man to the core by putting him face to face with a deserving foil and conversationalist in a whirlwind trek through middle America in the dead of winter while a darling in the literary world.

 

6. The Hateful Eight

The Hateful Eight delivers everything I could desire from a new Tarantino film - devilish, hilarious dialogue, carnage, irreverence, majestic cinematography (credit Robert Richardson yet again), an elegant, original Morricone score, and an exceptional ensemble that is collectively silver-tongued, brilliant and fiery - and it's simultaneously a sprawling and claustrophobic western that is unlike any other and unapologetically a Quentin entertainment. It's yet another masterwork in his unparalleled filmography, and it's arguably his best overall film since Jackie Brown, if not Pulp Fiction.

 

7. Steve Jobs

Yet another brazen, crackling screenplay in anti-biopic, three-act structure by Aaron Sorkin, energetically brought to life by Danny Boyle, centered upon Fassbender's dazzling portrayal (in my opinion, the most outstanding performance by a lead actor this year) of Jobs, a cultural titan with inexhaustible ambition, hubris, and contradictions. Uniformly excellent performances from Kate Winslet, Seth Rogen, Jeff Daniels, Katherine Waterston and Michael Stuhlbarg match the greatness of Sorkin's writing and flesh out the Shakespearean wit and wickedness at its core.

 

8. The Big Short

 

Not just a good film that does justice to Michael Lewis' fantastic book about the band of eccentric outsiders who saw the writing on the wall and bet on the economy tanking in 2008, The Big Short is a wildly entertaining, frequently hilarious, and righteously pissed off movie that proves director Adam McKay can be even more inventive and proficient than just with Will Ferrell vehicles. It gets under your skin and tackles dense material, but it's doesn't fall into the trap of being an econ or history lecture; instead, it's a hell of a good time.

 

9. Mississippi Grind

The writing and directing team of Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden (Half Nelson, Sugar, It's Kind of a Funny Story) coax a terrific, charismatic performance from Ryan Reynolds that is crucial for keeping up with the brilliance Ben Mendelsohn brings to the table (as per usual) as Gerry, a downtrodden gambler seeking the next big score with no will to cash out. It's a beautiful American road movie down the Mississippi with the spirit of Hal Ashby, lush cinematography, a killer soundtrack and hefty doses of guileless charm, grifting, and heartache.

 

10. Ex Machina

Alex Garland (frequent Danny Boyle screenwriter for 28 Days Later, The Beach, Sunshine) makes his directorial debut working from his own stellar script that contemplates loaded questions of ethics and identity in what is essentially a three-character play of artificial intelligence and mental cat-and-mouse games in a sterilized fortress of isolation. Indebted to Kubrick and refined with 21st century innovations, it's a mesmerizing sci-fi thriller with captivating performances by the always great Oscar Isaac, Domnhall Gleeson, and a breakout Alicia Vikander.

 

11. Room

An unthinkable story rendered in wholly original, harrowing fashion, in lesser hands Room would be a cross to bear just to sit through - or, even worse, Lifetime-ready melodrama. Instead, Irish filmmaker Lenny Abrahamson's (Frank) breathtaking direction and script lay the foundation for two utterly amazing performances from Brie Larson (Academy, give her the Best Actress statue already) and Jacob Tremblay as the young son who has never seen the outside world. Full of despair, hope, suspense, and raw emotion, Room is a work of unspeakable beauty that hangs with you.

 

12. 99 Homes

Michael Shannon is one of our greatest actors, and I will happily spend two hours watching him in just about anything. Ramin Bahrani (At Any Price) gives Shannon one of the best roles of his already tremendous career, and Spider-Man Andrew Garfield keeps up with him with conflicted humanity as his near-hopeless circumstances sway his sense of ethics. 99 Homes is a devastating morality tale set against the modern American backdrop of one percenters, fraud and foreclosures, and it hits bone deep.

 

13. The Gift

Credit strong character-actor and writer-director Nash Edgerton for having the guts to go all in and see this drama-thriller all the way through to its seriously nasty conclusion without compromising. Even if the plot and genre beats seem modest and straightforward, Edgerton's execution of them and the savage twists in store are anything but. Bonus points for successfully rebranding Jason Bateman in uncertain territory and fully utilizing the consistently good Rebecca Hall, not to mention Edgerton's own knockout turn.

 

 

13. Crimson Peak

Crimson Peak may not be a masterpiece on par with del Toro's own Pan's Labyrinth, but very few films are. However, it is unmistakably a Guillermo del Toro flick, and it's like nothing else out there today. It unfolds as a lush period piece with impeccable set designs and creepy atmosphere while also serving as a chilling haunted house flick and supremely bloody love triangle drama with excellent lead performances.

 

14. Bone Tomahawk

I'm thrilled I knew as little about Bone Tomahawk as possible going into it, beyond knowing it would be a Kurt Russell-led period western that may or may not involve cannibals. I expected an entertaining and bloody, yet ultimately forgettable, B-movie. What I got was an outstanding, suspenseful slow-burn that plays out more closely to a classic western with an inspired ensemble of fully-fledged characters, terrific performances, sharp writing, memorable cinematography and production design, and a few of the more unflinchingly brutal and terrifying moments I've seen in a movie in recent years along with all of its other riches.

 

15. Slow West

Slow West plays almost like a hybrid of a Mark Twain novel and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (maybe with flashes of Unforgiven for good measure). It's immaculately staged with fine-tuned direction, lovely set pieces and landscapes, and it features both Michael Fassbender and Ben Mendelsohn. Needless to say, I was sold on that alone, and it ended up surprising me even more by becoming one of my favorite westerns in recent years.

 

16. Mistress America

Noah Baumbach films aren't for some moviegoers (i.e. the casual mainstream audiences), but his work is almost peerless these days for those who enjoy him. Riding their streak together on the heels of the fantastic Frances Ha and, previously, Greenberg, Baumbach and Greta Gerwig tap into the pulse, insecurity, and delusions of a certain strain of not-fully-formed adults of modern metropolitan America with finesse, comic verve, charm and genuine drama. Gerwig wrote a hell of a script, and her performance blissfully matches it.

17. Love and Mercy

This biopic of Brian Wilson is a love letter to the tortured man, his mind, the unparalleled beauty of his music, and its lasting greatness. Intertwining two excellent lead performances by Paul Dano and John Cusack as Wilson, the end product is a fascinating examination of the creative process, a heartbreaking love story, a meditation on mental illness and submission, and a spectacularly vibrant mix of Beach Boys songs, superb sound design and acting.

 

 

18. The Revenant

By this point, there's not much to say about The Revenant that hasn't already been said. The frontrunner to win Best Picture, Best Actor and a slew of other Academy Awards has become somewhat polarizing as it has become a commercial hit and has kept generating buzz, not to mention Alejandro González Iñárritu took home the grand prize last year for Birdman. Many people love The Revenant, and many don't and have started a backlash. I've been a big fan of Iñárritu, but I fully understand why some people don't enjoy his films. Personally, I love Amores Perros, 21 Grams, and Babel. I liked Biutiful and thoroughly enjoyed Birdman, if I wasn't quite as blown away by it as the Academy was. What The Revenant lacks in meaningful dialogue, character arcs beyond revenge and survival, or any kind of optimism, it makes up for in breathtaking cinematography, atmosphere and acting. That may not be enough for some folks, but I appreciate it.

 

19. Bridge of Spies

An old school spy story from the Cold War era told with immense humanity and empathy, Bridge of Spies is an unmistakable Steven Spielberg film, written by Joel and Ethan Coen, starring Tom Hanks. It hinges on a genius conceit of an in-over-his-head insurance lawyer who gets caught up in political intrigue and takes a stand to treat an extremely high-profile espionage case like he would an insurance claim. The stakes are high throughout and plenty of suspense and sharp writing are abound to mix with Spielberg's exquisite eye for period details, and the film plays out as a cerebral, heartfelt meditation on what the American justice system stands for and how quiet heroes are sometimes the most necessary ones.

 

20. The Martian

 The Martian is a big Ridley Scott-helmed summer blockbuster and space epic staring an outstanding Matt Damon as the lead, and he's remotely flanked by big names in every frame like almost any other Ridley Scott epic. The film gets the blood pumping often, usually bringing some goosebumps to the surface along the way. There are big speeches, hordes of people watching in awe at screens and towering Times Square monitors, and the usual mix of sci-fi terminology and built-in comic relief. Even hitting all those usual beats we've come to expect from such broad blockbuster entertainments, The Martian is still Ridley Scott's finest two and a half hours in years, and it's a grand celebration of science and brainpower in lieu of the usual instances of explosions and firepower.

 

 

Favorite Albums of 2015

 

Combing through the hundred-plus albums I listen to and buy in any year and then narrowing them down to the few dozen I have fallen in love with most and still can't stop playing always proves to be both a challenge and a zealous endeavor full of rekindled enthusiasm - although marked by some sacrifices (those albums that I have liked enough to listen to several times but never loved to the point of near delirium) - and gusto for music that holds power over me and makes me more excited for any part of life.

 

Every year when I spend the better part of a week shaping and finalizing such a list, and almost every time I sit down to write about an artist or album in any manner, I often second-guess myself. I second-guess not because I have any reservations about the things I love or how my tastes may differ from those of anyone else, but I question why my opinions matter more or less than those of anyone else and whether anybody cares.

 

Eventually, I remember I chose to be a writer and the music I am most fond of fulfills me in myriad ways every day. I convince myself somebody may give a damn and be curious to discover something I've been enamored with this year that she has yet to hear. Maybe others enjoy seeing which artists have struck chords with me, may disagree, and will want to remind me what I'm missing and debate the merits of what is here and not here. I'm always eager for any lively discourse about music, especially the music that has meant the most to me.

 

I started my own blog (this one and, previously, Division St. Harmony) as an outlet to write however I want, about what I want, and share what I love, because I can be honest to myself and unrepentant about never having to cave to trends or satisfy anyone else's opinion. Not being beholden to advertisers and being the sole writer, editor and publisher of this blog grants me that freedom no matter how modest the audience.

With all of that said, the albums listed below were my 30 favorite records of 2015.

 

 

Father John Misty - I Love You, Honeybear

 

Jason Isbell - Something More Than Free 

 

Dawes - All Your Favorite Bands 

 

The Yawpers - American Man

 

Courtney Barnett - Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit.

Desaparecidos - Payola

 

Sufjan Stevens - Carrie & Lowell

 

JD McPherson - Let the Good Times Roll

 

Hop Along - Painted Shut

 

EL VY - Return to the Moon

 

 

Tobias Jesso Jr. - Goon

 

Joanna Newsom - Divers

 

Sleater - Kinney - No Cities to Love

 

The Tallest Man on Earth - Dark Bird Is Home

 

Jesse Malin - New York Before the War

Protomartyr - The Agent Intellect

S.M. Wolf - Neon Debris

 

Lucero - All a Man Should Do

 

Titus Andronicus - The Most Lamentable Tragedy

 

 

Leon Bridges - Coming Home

 

Dave Rawlings Machine - Nashville Obsolete

 

Bully - Feels Like

 

Craig Finn - Faith in the Future

 

Torres - Sprinter

 

She Does Is Magic - Strangers

 

Murder By Death - Big Dark Love

 

Beach House - Depression Cherry

 

 Natalie Prass - Natalie Prass

 

 Wilco - Star Wars

 

Kurt Vile - b'lieve i'm goin down

  

 

 

 

Joshua Powell & the Great Train Robbery - Alyosha

 

Joshua Powell possesses a drive of uncommon determination that transcends his relative youth and is likely abetted by it. That drive, which is transparent in his handling of all aspects (promotions, booking, etc.) of his band, Joshua Powell & the Great Train Robbery, and the exhaustive touring of more than 400 shows in more than 40 states between 2013’s Man Is Born for Trouble and the release of Alyosha (out October 16), is an unassailable reason Alyosha takes everything that has made Powell’s music promising from the outset and polishes his sound into a final product that refuses to settle for categorization as modest, mere folk rock with a scope limited between Indiana’s borders. It is obvious Powell wants his songs to reach a larger audience, and Alyosha makes a commanding case that its ruggedly persistent creator warrants such an audience.

On Alyosha, Powell takes his self-described brand of “psychedelic-tinged fearsome folk” and revels in the pursuit of a cohesive, often-ethereal sound that has more in common with shades of Bon Iver’s self-titled LP, Fleet Foxes’ Helplessness Blues, Carrie and Lowell, and even War on Drugs’ Lost in the Dream than a typical acoustic guitar-based coffeehouse folk record. Along with Powell, co-producer Jonathan Class (who once again recorded and produced the record at his own Varsity Recording Co. in Anderson, IN) deserves a great deal of credit for the polish and clear vitality of the finished product. From the rippling groove of “Gunfighter Ballad of the 21^st Century”, which hits my ears as almost a Neil Young and Crazy Horse-like tune relocated to a forest-strewn hall of mirrors and washed in scattered echoes while painting technicolor blotches on the glass, to the field recording of the hushed, lapping tide that soundtracks the nostalgic closer, “Left the Academy,”

Alyosha is a gorgeous-sounding record that wears its professional aspirations on its sleeve, especially for an independent outfit from the Hoosier state on a limited, crowd-sourced budget.

 

Some of Powell’s (and Alyosha’s) biggest strengths are in an ability to fashion a vivid, serene sound that is more than willing to take detours, shift tempos, and earn crescendos while staying rooted in his authentic, lyric-based songwriting and consistently pleasant and impressive vocal deliveries. He takes care in penning verses and melodies that don’t always reveal the often leagues-deep staying power on first listens (especially for audiences prone to corporate radio preferences or 30 second-taste-and-skip streaming), but his lyrical and musical choices always suit the song at hand, even when those choices step way beyond the shallow end of modest folk recording as they do on Alyosha. Powell has a knack for marrying prosaic lines with a literary bent and poetic deliveries – in the vocal melodies, instrumental arrangements and production. This marriage gives a song like “Indiana” it’s patient, powerful sweep, “Birth Control” it’s orchestral pop pulse that makes it feel not out of place alongside a handful of Broken Social Scene songs, and the War on Drugs-colored pursuit of E Street sweep that gives “Telekinesis” its rock ‘n’ roll radio high.

Perhaps Alyosha’s finest achievement, proving just how sublime and deliciously alive Powell’s music has become, is “Petrichor,” which almost sounds kindred to Beck’s “voice of God” vocal performance throughout the Grammy-winning Morning Phase, except layered with Sufjan-esque backing vocals while climbing towards the virgin peaks of imagined snow-capped vistas as the most recent Bon Iver and Volcano Choir LPs have done to widespread acclaim.

With adventurously-minded yet nuanced command of its mission, Alyosha is a record that should surprise current fans of Joshua Powell & the Great Train Robbery. For anyone else who is hearing Powell with fresh ears, the record should defy many assumptions of what to expect from a folk-based songwriter and musician from the Hoosier state who has been flying under the radar from town to town and is now primed to make his deserved blip.

Alyosha is out on October 16, 2015. Visit Joshua Powell & the GTR's website for details, or download the album on iTunes or Amazon.

Joshua Powell & the Great Train Robbery - "Gunfighter Ballad for the 21st Century"

Heavy Rotation: Eddie Lott - Blame It on My Wild Soul

I am a sucker for an earnest underdog. I also unapologetically harbor a sweet spot for the feeling of southwestern air - that open road beneath the endless Texan sky, those traversed miles littered with American dreams, worn barstools, empty bottles, front porch nights and whiskey-wetted harmonies.

These affinities are anything but mutually exclusive, which should go a long way to explain why a songwriter and musician like Eddie Lott and his songs of Blame It on My Wild Soul possess a gentle magnetism tuned into my own internal frequency.

 

Lott describes his songs as “country music for lost souls.” His preferred backdrop for listeners is a late night drive with no set destination and Blame It on My Wild Soul as the soundtrack to get lost to. Perhaps it won’t come as much of a surprise that this is also one of my ideals avenues for absorbing records in totality, and Lott’s songs of wanderlust and introspective grappling succeed in warm, rewarding fashion.

“I’m always alone in my mind. They say that men cannot survive these islands, but I will, or at least I will die trying.”

The definitive influence for nearly any upstart country-tinged songwriter from west of the Mississippi and south of the Rockies in the past forty years or so is, naturally, Townes, and Lott is no exception. Having been playing guitar for more than twenty years, Lott says it wasn’t until, years after giving up on music and founding a green DIY waste management business in North Texas, he wandered into a bar and heard a desperado cover of a Van Zandt tune that hit him squarely and fueled a fire to go all in on his songwriting, record an album and lay the foundation for a serious musical career.

In the years between deciding to leap the uncertain chasm and Blame It on My Wild Soul coming to fruition (released September 27), Lott won a Dallas songwriter competition, recorded a series of demos (that would eventually end up comprising BIOMWS) on an iPhone, enlisted the skills of Austin-based producer Bryan Ray (Lonely Child), and placed his hopes and bets on a Kickstarter campaign that successfully funded the production and completion of the 32-year-old Texan’s debut album.

I first came across Lott’s music when Ray forwarded me four of those iPhone demos in the months prior to the Kickstarter launch. Even then, without proper arrangements and knowing nothing of Lott’s backstory or his motivations, the yearning and passion of his vocals, the evocative precision of his lyrics and the beating heart of his songs spoke to me. The more I listened, the more I heard something of a kindred spirit who I couldn’t help but root for. It’s a communicative exchange through strangers, but the intangible magic of good songs like these is how, with artifice stripped away and a yearning artist’s personal expression on display and set to melodic and pedal steel-accented accompaniment, this music becomes more like a dialogue between compadres. It’s the sort of relationship Lott reminisces about and celebrates on “From One Soul to Another” (#FOTSA).

“I miss your soul next to mine / I was hoping that you would sing a song with me...Is it strange for me to say I miss you all the time? / From one soul to another / not like lovers, friends or brothers / more like porches, guitars and wine.”

These are Lott’s songs and it’s not difficult to hear a burning man throwing his all into taking his shot at his own American dream, but I always feel like an accomplice on the journey when I listen to the record. Perhaps, like many records that feel good to get lost to, its loveliest strength is its relatability for the listener. I’m a fan of Lott and his songs and, should my saying somehow lead you astray, I guess you can blame it on our wild souls.  

Buy/Listen: Blame It on My Wild Soul

Vonnegut Sessions: Celebrating Kurt's Ideal with Music

“If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph: The only proof he needed for the existence of God was music.” – Kurt Vonnegut

That quote from Indianapolis’ hometown literary titan and cultural conscience provides the foundation for the unveiling of a new music series at the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library. The Vonnegut Sessions, an intimate series of performances conducted within the gallery of the KVML and consisting of music and readings of poetry, prose, short stories and more by national and local acts, recently debuted with concerts from Austin bluegrass band Wood & Wire and Portland-based musician and author Nick Jaina. For the uninitiated, the KVML, a delightful, boutique-style not-for-profit library/museum decked with singular Vonnegut artifacts, correspondences, timelines, typewriters, and eclectic Vonnegut-inspired portraits and modern art, is modestly tucked away (befitting of its subject) downtown in the red brick Emelie Building on North Senate and has established itself as a gem of the city.

Vonnegut Sessions organizers plan to host performances by a wide range of artists who possess a passion for the finer points of life Kurt cared about most: “free expression, common decency and music.” In conversation with KMVL’s Kate Newman (the library’s community relations associate, who also spoke on behalf of fellow colleague Matthew Altizer) and through an interview with Nick Jaina ahead of his May 3 performance, I sought to gather a fairly comprehensive portrait of what the Vonnegut Sessions hope to showcase in the months ahead, what attracts artists to the new and unique series, and how the performances may do justice to Vonnegut’s oft-quoted, humanistic worldview and his beloved literary output and legacy, which are the driving force behind the KVML’s mission.

To describe the impetus for embarking on a concert series at the Vonnegut Library, Newman explains, “Kurt Vonnegut liked music. And the funny thing about Vonnegut is that many people who pursue art-- many thoughtful, expressive people-- have a Vonnegut story. So far, all of the bands we have booked have at least one member who has something to say about Kurt Vonnegut.”

This is certainly true of Jaina, who performed inside the KVML alongside his friend Stelth Ulvang (multi-instrumentalist for The Lumineers) last year. “He always seemed like a really smart guy,” Jaina says. “Vonnegut was really intelligent, but he could find joys and could find ways of seeing suffering in people and making them happy as opposed to just pummeling readers with how intelligent he is, and I’ve always appreciated that.”

Jaina, a veteran songwriter and musician, is touring the country in support of his recently released first book, Get It While You Can (published in January by Perfect Day). His live performances blend spoken word deliveries of his own prose atop guitar and found sounds while intermittently incorporating songs between readings.

“Most of the shows on this tour are living room shows and houses and are semi-private, so it’s nice to play an open show where anyone can come. I think it will be a different cross-section of an audience,” Jaina explains, “That, and the connection to Vonnegut. I like that it is more of a literary crowd. I’ve played in bookstores and cafes, and I like being surrounded by books and how there is a different vibe to it.” He believes the intimacy of the Vonnegut Library suits his performance, and his depiction of an ideal audience seems to have a kindred link to what Vonnegut sought in an audience.  As Jaina says on his website,“It’s (Jaina’s music and writing) not just for intellectuals. It’s for lovers of life.”

Newman gives the impression there is almost an idealistic, optimistic measuring stick the KVML will be using during the sessions’ inaugural year to deem how successful these Vonnegut Sessions are as more and more are booked and performed.

“If we've brought in genres from all over the globe, through musicians from all over the country, with viewpoints that both align with Vonnegut's values and stimulate discussion, then I think we will have succeeded,” Newman says. “If we've helped to give local artists a platform and to introduce them to a new audience, then we will have succeeded. If every guest who attends a Vonnegut Session leaves ready to create some art of his or her own, then we will have REALLY succeeded!”

Read that mission again and take note, Indianapolis musicians and artists – especially those of you with an allegiance towards this city’s esteemed cultural laureate.

“We (the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library) are huge champions of Indianapolis, and we would be thrilled to contribute to its music scene. Local bands-- call us up!”

Newman cites a line from Vonnegut’s A Man Without a Country, his classic 2005 non-fiction collection of essays that still read as ten times more inspiring for creatives and blooming humanists than any self-help book sitting on a best-seller shelf, to summarize what the sessions hope to achieve for the artists and audiences alike:

“Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake.”

With quotes like that one as guiding the direction of the series, Newman says, “My hope is that people leave a Vonnegut Sessions show brimming with energy to create their own art.”

As for the logistics of the Vonnegut Sessions, the shows are all ages with limited seating (the KVML encourages purchasing advance tickets without additional fees through its website or at the library). Portions of all ticket sales and all alcohol sales (provided by KVML supporters Sun King Brewing and Monarch Beverages) from the cash bar are designated as charitable donations to the Vonnegut Library’s Annual Fund, which helps keep the doors open at the not-for-profit museum and fuels the cycle of original artistic expression and special events on showcase. 

Three Kings: Genre-Defying Greatness as Relevant as Ever

“No input, no output.”

Joe Strummer said that. It’s a mantra that always held true for me as a writer and music journalist. Conversely, all input no output is equally true, and the supremely exhausting and inexhaustible content vehicle that is the internet ecosystem (an ecosystem that I feed in minimal capacities at varying frequencies, often based on my internal hunger for and regulation of aforementioned input, and feast upon regularly) sometimes suffocates my own desire to offer up opinions on anything or take the time to focus and churn out thoughtful output.

In any case, I haven’t offered up much in the way of output in recent months, especially compared to the amount of reviews, interviews, essays and the like I’ve written the past several years. Often, the only time I feel desire enough to put something out there these days is when I believe I have an opinion I haven’t read a hundred times on a dozen rival content-churning sites cranked out a dozen times a day, headlined and linked like baited hooks for people to read what they already know and have consumed in five ever-so-slightly differently-worded ways.

Perhaps all of this is neither here nor there. Maybe it’s an expositional means to say my some of my inputs of late have consisted of the usual news coverage of ISIS attacks, 2016 presidential bids, Donald Trump, the Clintons, the Bushes, Obama, American foreign policy, Snowden, and the excellent, Goodfellas-esque new Netflix series Narcos, which chronicles Pablo Escobar’s tyrannical empire in Colombia and the longstanding DEA campaign to capture and extradite him. All of those inputs compound with my steady diet of a dozen or so records, films and books a week. For whatever reason, this particular cocktail has me thinking about (in various indirect ways) Three Kings, the 1999 war-heist-action-satire-drama written and directed by David O. Russell. 

   

Three Kings, a non-franchise Warner Brothers mid-level studio film (the sort of film that is an endangered species at best in 2015), was one of those movies that garnered critical acclaim and awards consideration (National Board of Review Top 10 Film of 1999, Broadcast Film Critics Association nomination for Best Picture) and was met with a middling box office performance ($60 million domestic gross and $107 million worldwide gross on a $75 million budget *according to Box Office Mojo), but I rarely hear anybody mention the film.

Many other acclaimed films from 1999 come up in conversation more frequently, and several remain relevant, hold up beautifully and are pretty much perfect (American Beauty, Magnolia, Fight Club, Being John Malkovich**) while others feel almost cryogenically frozen and neutered thanks to their initial success and the parade of copycats that followed in their wake (The Matrix, The Blair Witch Project, The Sixth Sense).

What makes Three Kings great to me is I loved it when I first saw it in theaters as a 17-year-old kid in 1999, it retained its unique power with each successive DVD viewing soon after, and it has only grown more relevant as time has passed in post 9/11, War-on-Terror-entrenched America. All of that hardly takes into account writer-director David O. Russell’s career is hotter than ever, and the quartet of actors at the center of the action and drama in Three Kings were all making varying degrees of changes in their career arcs at that very moment, and the film allowed each of them to branch out and impress in new ways, even if it now could almost, given the trajectory of their successes over the years, seem like a memory of a memory to those who haven’t seen or revisited the film.

One of the things that makes Three Kings special and particularly relevant is that is set on familiar turf to many of the films that followed in the next fifteen years, but it bears no resemblance to any of them. It exists as neither a forbearer nor an outlier. Though released in theaters less than two years before the 9/11 attacks and set less than a decade prior, the outlandishly strange and ominous mental, political, and physical climate Three Kings captures is an intricate work of pulpy war-noir that serves as a puzzle piece linking together myriad trends that had/have coalesced in American culture, the media, and military affairs since. Its Gulf War narrative is portentous of American involvement in the Middle East in the 21^st Century while planting its roots in the very recent past of the peculiar Gulf War proceedings of Bush era 1990 and 1991. Supremely villainous tyrant Saddam with cartoonish proportions in American culture (substitute Osama bin Laden of the mid-00s, Escobar, or even a Trump-ish persona consumed by megalomania, intimidation, media influence, unthinkable wealth, and varying levels of unchecked brutality) terrorizes the dissenting population while simultaneously presenting himself as a sacred idol and philanthropist. It’s in this context that a quartet of mismatched American soldiers of varying rank, race, education, and background inadvertently come upon a treasure map of Saddam’s millions in gold bullion and fashion themselves into a ragtag group of covert bandits in hotbed of political turmoil, surreal cultural divides, and constant threat of violent outbursts.  

It’s a one of a kind film (a textbook example of genre-defying, a class in which Russell has often excelled) that deftly moves with brazen attitude, wisecracking wit, unsettling violence, suspense, complex moral dilemmas, empathy, redemption and melancholy. The razor-sharp direction, the chemistry between the actors, and script all sing and sting, while what starts as an offbeat heist flick (a reimagining of the 1970 Clint Eastwood film Kelly’s Heroes) and segues into a potboiler of spitfire satire, idealistic noir and compelling human drama on foreign soil that has only become more unrelentingly war-ravaged and hopelessly volatile in the years since. Hence, the litany of (mostly independent to mid-level studio) films indebted to America’s involvement in the Middle East post 9/11, ranging from overlooked, contemplative gems (The Messenger, Fort Bliss), heart-pounding action flicks that were box office smashes (American Sniper, Lone Survivor), Best Picture-winning (and Avatar/James Cameron-slaying) masterworks of suspense (The Hurt Locker), a great film railroaded by political agenda (Zero Dark Thirty) white-knuckle actioners that didn’t become American Sniper-sized monoliths (The Kingdom), and mostly forgotten hot-button-issue indies chronicling the tolls on veterans at home and abroad (Stop-Loss, Jarhead, In the Valley of Elah), are all set on soil similar to Three Kings, but Russell’s film acts like its own subversive, yet heartfelt, beast. It’s a cinematic entertainment with historical context and a long arm of relevance, but it lives in the unsettled land between straightforward popcorn flick and history lesson.

 

Three Kings’ long, if largely unmentioned, shelf life owes much to the careers of its principals. David O. Russell is currently one of the hottest directors in Hollywood thanks to his recent ensemble flicks that have blended Academy Awards bait with box office appeal primarily thanks to the pairing of Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper and the success of Silver Linings Playbook and American Hustle. Yes, The Fighter (my favorite film of 2010) garnered a heap of major award nominations and wins and performed well at the box office, but the lightning in a bottle pairing of Lawrence and Cooper as leads tapped some sort of mainstream zeitgeist thanks to the major success of The Hunger Games trilogy, American Sniper, Guardians of the Galaxy, and the current standing of Lawrence as America’s sweetheart. Even with the impressive string of critical and commercial hits with Hustle, Playbook, The Fighter, and given that his breakout film was the delirious, excellent comedy Flirting with Disaster starring Ben Stiller, I’ll still argue Three Kings is both an outstanding work of American cinema and David O. Russell’s finest film. Additionally, Three Kings helped solidify George Clooney as a legitimate leading man and charismatic movie star (in tandem with 1998’s Out of Sight, directed by Steven Soderbergh) as opposed to merely America’s favorite TV doctor, turned Marky Mark into a serious actor (alongside his breakout role as Dirk Diggler in Paul Thomas Anderson’s brilliant Boogie Nights, even if that role could be misconstrued as a coming-of-age porn star version of Marky Mark himself), allowed Ice Cube to act in a role beyond the genre comedy of Friday, the genre dramas of Boyz ‘n the Hood and Higher Learning, and the B-movie (at best) action of Anaconda, and offered Spike Jonze (whose own masterpiece, Being John Malkovich, also hit theaters in 1999) his first significant role in front of the camera.

Amongst the wealth of great films released in 1999, Three Kings had a niche, but it rarely gets mentioned in conversation nowadays, either as one of great movies of the late ‘90s, as a newer classic that went under the radar for many, or as a film that deserves being revisited given its exponentially increased cultural relevance over the years – both as a captivating fictional document of American politics and military action and as somewhat of a launching pad for career reinventions of many of its principals.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Eyes Wide Shut, but that vastly misunderstood/underrated Kubrick elegy is for another essay