Sunday 10 March 2024

The Zone of Interest


Sometimes an idea is so good and so unequivocal that everything else will simply fall into place. Such was the idea that Jonathan Glazer extracted from Martin Amis's 2014 novel The Zone of Interest, a short but powerful book set in Auschwitz during the Second World War. The idea was to show the seemingly normal, orderly life of Rudolf Höss. To show the wife, tending the garden, and the children, running around the house, and to have the horrors of Auschwitz as merely the backdrop to picnics and petty laughter at the kitchen table. 




All great art gets off on a juxtaposition, and you will not find a stronger one than the juxtaposition at the heart of The Zone of Interest. It is as hypnotic as it is absolutely sickening. Across the street and over the wall, there is an unbearable cacophony of screams, shots and constant beatings (the kinds that, inevitably, ooze into the subconscious of Höss's children). Outside, there is unspeakable ash flying in the air. Inside, the wife of the camp's commandant (the quietly sinister Sandra Hüller) is considering the latest batch of clothes she got from Jewish women about to be led into the gas chamber. 

The film is a succession of simple words and insignificant actions but the underlying tension never leaves the screen. How could it?.. In fact, the only breaks from the gruesome routine come by way of a village girl who is seen in dream-like sequences leaving food for Auschwitz prisoners. These scenes bring some otherworldly humanity into this hell on earth, and in his interviews Jonathan Glazer tells a beautiful story about how he actually met this girl while shooting The Zone of Interest in Poland. Now well into her nineties, she really was doing that every night while living near the camp at the time and being a member of Polish Resistance. 

The Zone of Interest is clinical at showing the evil of the mundane. Hannah Arendt famously spoke about how there was nothing special about Adolf Eichmann and others like him. They were insignificant, one-dimensional people who were doing their small jobs. Rudolf Höss, too, was doing his job, and was only occasionally distracted by his wife's garden, sex with Jews, his great love for dogs and the efficiency of crematoriums. However, you will always be aware of the powerful impact of every small detail in this film. With that unnerving sound design, with those beautiful flowers of Auschwitz, the film has the kind of understated quality that overwhelms your whole being.  


Thursday 29 February 2024

February Round-Up


Sometimes a cross between ABBA and Siouxsie & The Banshees, sometimes a little more than that - The Last Dinner Party certainly justified the hype with their debut album. Prelude To Ecstasy is filled with attitude and big glammy choruses. Not perfect, but never less than interesting (even the short interlude in Albanian is worthy of your time). 

J Mascis's latest ended up being exactly what you would expect: solid, engaging indie rock. What Do We Do Now rarely threatens greatness, but you will have a good time listening to it. "Can't Believe We're Here" is a clear highlight with some stellar guitar soloing. 

Nürnberg is a Belarusian band who have just released their latest LP. Adkaz is a short but to-the-point amalgamation of post-punk and coldwave. Despite the obvious genre constraints, the album is quite playful and melodically satisfying. They even serve up an unexpected jangle-pop throwaway at the end of the album which, naturally, ended up being my favourite song. Adkaz is a lot more interesting and involving than its suprematist black and white cover would suggest. 

It is hard not to be uncomfortable these days listening to new Mark Kozelek records, but Sun Kil Moon's EP titled Birthday Girl really does feature the man's best songs in quite some time. Mumbling, addictive, filled with acerbic wit, awkward humour, self-pity, and Kozelek actually trying to sing some of those melodies. Which, and I want to stress this point, are very good melodies. 

Finally, Katherine Priddy's new album The Pendulum Swing is a decent folk album whose sole moment of true greatness may be the rich, dreamy, Fleetwood Mac-like "Does She Hold You Like I Did". I wish she would do more in that vein in future. 


Songs of the month:


"Floating On A Moment" - Beth Gibbons

"The Feminine Urge" - The Last Dinner Party

"The Call Of The Wild" - Sun Kil Moon

"Does She Hold You Like I Did" - Katherine Priddy


Sunday 25 February 2024

Альбом. "АДКАЗ" (2024) / Nürnberg.



Некалькі тыдняў таму, на начным джазавым канцэрце ў Варшаве, я ў чарговы раз быў сведкам таго, як палякі рэагуюць на польскае. Калі гралі класічныя творы Майлза Дэвіса альбо Чарлі Паркера, рэакцыя была стрымана-паважлівай. Ніхто не рваў на сябе валасы, ніхто не крычаў у паўрэлігійным экстазе. Між тым, калі музыкі гралі малавядомыя (звышсентыментальныя і, калі шчыра, не вельмі адметныя) творы польскага кампазітара першай паловы дваццатага стагоддзя, публіка была ў захапленні, і жанчына, што сядзела за суседнім столікам, бясконца штурхала мяне ў спіну і апантана выкрыквала "брава!"  Бачыў я усё гэта, вядома, далёка не ў першы раз. Гэты дзіўны культурны патрыятызм (кепскія канатацыі не дазвадяюць напісаць "нацыяналізм"), непазбежны, гістарычна падмацаваны, цалкам зразумелы. 

Я пішу гэта з той прычыны, што амаль ніколі не падзяляў гэтых пачуццяў. Верагодна, што звязана гэта ў тым ліку і з той безлічу водгукаў і рэцэнзій, якія я напісаў у сваім жыцці. Аднойчы я перастаў зважаць на паходжанне, і калі даведаўся год таму, што колькасць праслухоўванняў менскага гурта Nürnberg ў Spotify дасягае некалькіх соцен тысяч на месяц (у Молчат дома, дарэчы, лічба гэтая пайшла на мільёны), я толькі крыху здзівіўся і дадаў Nürnberg у свае закладкі. 

Coldwave як жанр мае пэўныя абмежаванні, і гэта ніколі не дазваляла мне яго палюбіць. Бо заўсёды было адчуванне: там, унутры, ёсць нешта лёгкае і прыгожае, што абрамілі ў халодныя барабаны і чорна-белую вокладку. І тым не менш, калі абстрагавацца ад гэтых думак, забыцца на паходжанне (бо так ці інакш, але пішу я гэтыя рэцэнзіі менавіта пра беларускае мастацтва), прыняць умоўнасці і паразважаць пра саму музыку - наколькі яна ўдалая?

Адказ - даволі кароткі альбом, які доўжыцца меней за паўгадзіны, але якому ёсць, што сказаць. І гэта датычыцца як музыкі, так і тэкстаў. "Insomnia" (дарэчы, адзіная англійская назва ў альбоме) пачынаецца з летуценна-меладычнага рытму, які нагадвае ранніх The Cure, і ты адразу ж разумееш, што цябе чакае далей. Мелодыі збольшага павольныя, разважлівыя, з гатычнымі пералівамі і спарадычнымі ўкрапінамі сінтэзатараў (у добрым сэнсе гэтага слова). Часам гітара знікае, рытм паскараецца і робіцца амаль танцавальным ("Месца"), але стыль не губляецца ніколі. То-бок  Nürnberg выдатна адчуваюць рамкі і рэдка выходзяць за межы чорна-белага супрэматызму, які паўстае на вокладцы альбома.  

Такі зараз гістарычны момант, што часам разумееш: немагчыма ў сучасным беларускім мастацтве стварыць добры твор і захаваць пры гэтым пэўную апалітычнасць. Калі вельмі паспрабуеш, то атрымаецца банальная дрэнь. А калі не дрэнь, то палітыка ўсё роўна будзе выглядваць, агідна і нервова, з кожнай ноты і кожнага радка. Бо нават беларуская мова сёння - гэта не проста мова, але яшчэ і выказванне. Сродак абароны. Спроба захаваць сябе, але і нешта значна большае за сябе. Тэксты альбома Nürnberg прасякнуты адсылкамі да змрочнай беларускай рэчаіснасці, а калі яны пяюць пра "сцяг перамогі" і "жалезныя колы" ў цэнтральным творы альбома ("Адліга"), то нельга не зразумець і не ўзрушыцца.

Тым не менш, гэта ўдалы альбом не толькі для беларускай музыкі, але (што куды больш значна) для музыкі ўвогуле. Той музыкі, што выйшла ў лютым 2024 года. Цікава, але, напэўна, і непазбежна тое, што мая любімая песня альбома - гэта "Пацалунак". Рамантычны твор у жанры jangle pop, ён крыху выбіваецца з агульнай стылістыкі альбома і дадае пэўны гумар, пэўную цеплыню (тут можна было б прыгадаць "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others" з вядомага альбома 1986 года). 

Адказ падаецца добрым музычным выказваннем, у якім няма амаль нічога лішняга. Якое вытрымана ў жорсткіх рамках жанру, але якое не баіцца зрабіць крок улева. У якім (і гэта, канешне, таксама адметна), ёсць не толькі "жалезныя колы ў крыві", але і "мары аб простай вясне".




Monday 19 February 2024

Three films. Thumbs up.


Like I have said previously, there were many good-to-great films in 2023. Some were hilarious (Theater Camp, possibly the best comedy I have seen in years), some puzzling (May December, a strangely hypnotic exercise in style from Todd Haynes) and some downight bizarre (Poor Things, a fascinating feast for the eyes and the senses). Too many to name. These three, however, were my absolute favourites. That is, until I get to see The Zone of Interest in a week or so.


Past Lives (2023)


Having watched this film two times now and read a couple of interviews with director Celine Song, I know I will always be on the lookout for whatever she does in the future. This is smart, emotionally devastating filmmaking that starts haunting you long before the final credits. Astounding that this is only her debut.

It is a semi-autobiagrophical film that started, according to a Celine Song interview, exactly the way Past Lives begins: sitting in a late-night bar in New York City, watching three people having a conversation and wondering about their story. The actual story turns out to be as simple as it is complicated. Love, immigration, dreams, the weight of the unspoken. It is also a universal story, one that absolutely anyone can relate to. I know I did.


Anatomy of a Fall (2023)


The subject of unconditional love has always fascinated me, and this French film by Justine Triet might be the most astute and incisive work on the matter.

Visually, it is all quite simple. Anatomy of a Fall is a story-driven film that nevertheless throws a few great tricks along the way, especially when it deals with the way a blind boy perceives the world in which his mother may or may not have killed his dad. It is primarily a courtroom drama that kept me on the edge of my seat and never offered a single easy answer. Also, Sandra Hüller's performance is out of this world. The scene during the trial when she asks the judge to switch from French to English was, for me, one of the tensest, thrilling, and most unbearable scenes of last year.


The Holdovers (2023)


So much has already been said about how this film is a new Christmas classic, and how it looks exactly as if it was made in 1973, and how every performance is just superb. All I can say is that it is all true. All of it. I can't wait to see it during next Christmas, it did provide a great escape (isn't that what cinema is for, anyway?), and Paul Giamatti and the rest of the gang all deserve their accolades.

An American boarding school for the rich and the privileged is closed for winter holidays, and a grumpy old professor is forced to spend it with a few holdover kids (those who had nowhere else to go). Also, there is a cafeteria manager whose son has recently been killed in the Vietnam War. This is such a brilliant setup that there is no chance it could fail. Not when you have such phenomenal acting and Alexander Payne's knack for tasteful, brilliantly realised and nuanced restraint. 


Monday 12 February 2024

Three films. Thumbs down.


Despite the fact that 2023 was an exceptional year in terms of film releases, these three get an unquestionable thumbs down


Wonka (2023)


I don't like musicals, Oompa Loompas and Timothée Chalamet. 

Speaking of Oompa Loompas, they were one of Roald Dahl's more questionable creations, and I am not sure anyone can adapt them for screen in a way that would not make my skin crawl. Tim Burton's 2005 take failed, and this version from Paul King (who made the excellent Paddington) is hardly an improvement. Overall both versions are okay, but whereas I do not mind a hammy Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka, I just find Timothée Chalamet impossibly dull. He was somewhat amusing in his brief role in Don't Look Up, but his range is mostly limited to the vaguely mysterious pout of Call Me By Your Name

This is not a bad film, and parts of it are rather entertaining, but with three major ingredients being so unpalatable, I stood no chance here.


Saltburn (2023)


Well, I laughed. 

The most divisive film of 2023 turned out to be unintentionally hilarious. At some point during or after the grave-humping scene, I actually thought this was all just a comedy and I had been had. Almost everything about this film seems fake and uncertain of itself. No rhythm, no conviction (despite a few strong performances), and the whole thing just falls apart during its third act. 

There are bits and pieces that threaten to work as unsubtle, in-your-face satire (eat the rich and the rest of it), and it is wrong to criticise a picture for having just negative characters, but I need a little more than a couple of revolting scenes and an improbable resolution to stay with me after watching a film. Come to think of it, even The Riot Club was a more satisfying experience.


Barbie (2023)


Again, there are parts of this film that I found okay (not least the much lauded comic turn from Ryan Gosling), but mostly this was shallow fluff with an ending so trite I regretted those two hours of my life I would never get back. There are maybe three funny jokes here, everything else is just coloured in pink. 

A student of mine has recently said to me that she thought Taylor Swift was actually a wrong person to be named by Time magazine as the person of the year. According to her, they should have gone for Barbie. A scary thought. One, though, that is very difficult to dispute.


Wednesday 31 January 2024

Album of the Month: IECHYD DA by Bill Ryder-Jones



Sometimes an album speaks to you so directly and so intimately that it is hard to believe you could spend your whole life without it. Bill Ryder-Jones' new album is the sort of thing that makes me burst into tears of joy and laugh like a madman. It is the sort of artistic achievement that you have the right to make just once in your life. It is a work of immense beauty and sincerity that soars, grips and never lets go. 

January is not even supposed to be a good month. If anything, it is supposed to drag on listlessly and die a quiet, if noble, death. It is not supposed to produce any strong melodies or lyrical nuance. Miraculously, though, Iechyd Da (Welsh for 'good day') is probably my album of the year which was released less than two weeks into 2024.

Back in the day, I reviewed Bill Ryder-Jones' soundtrack If... for Oxford Music Magazine and praised it for the classical minimalism that felt not just self-consciously pretty but also genuinely moving. He then released two very good albums which I admired rather than loved ("You're Getting Like Your Sister" notwithstanding), after which came Yawn. Typically personal and introspective, this was the Ryder-Jones album that really clicked with me. And now, after five long years and a lovely, if inessential, Yawny Yawn LP (a stripped-down version of Yawn), comes Iechyd Da.

It is difficult to imagine that Bill Ryder-Jones did not realise he was on to something special here, because everything, everything about Iechyd Da spells creative peak. These are his most realised melodies, his most accomplished lyrics, his most elaborate arrangements. There is a stunningly beautiful album cover, there is a well-placed sample of Gal Costa's "Baby", there is Michael Head reading from James Joyce's Ulysses and there is even a children's choir that crops up here and there to astounding effect. Speaking of the latter, there is a particularly heartfelt moment at the very end of "It's Today Again" when the kids sing a cappella the lines that serve as a counterpoint to the album's seminal lyrical statement: "There is something great about life / But there's something not quite right".

The songs are as complex as they are disarmingly simple. You get gentle acoustic strumming one second, and soaring, majestic strings the next, and it all works in perfect unison, erupting in multiple moments of musical bliss (the orchestral climax from George Harrison's "Try Some Buy Some" would be a good reference point). While the album is not diverse at all (as a matter of fact, it sounds homogenous to a fault), it never seems monotonous. "Christinha" is almost upbeat, and "How Beautiful I Am" is almost a waltz. Plus, he tends to make songs evolve and develop in the course of their running time. The opening "I Know That It's Like This (Baby)" is especially notable in this respect, to say nothing of the beginning of "If Tomorrow Starts Without Me", a wonderful nod to Lou Reed. 

Well, what more can I say, really? A well-honed, intimate, beautifully realised work that moves me to absolute tears (the lyrics of the two closing songs are as vulnerable as they are hard-hitting). If you have a vinyl record player, buy it on vinyl. If you have a tape recorder, buy it on tape. Get it somehow. This album truly is remarkable.




January Round-Up


"Don't Go Puttin' Wishes In My Head" was one of my favourite songs of 2021 (Thirstier was, in fact, an excellent little indie-pop LP), so I was naturally looking forward to whatever Torres does next. Sadly, What an enormous room comes off limp and unmotivated. Moments of true inspiration (the pulsating single "Collect" with its tasteful scuzziness, the strangely hypnotic "Jerk Into Joy" with a Laurie Anderson-esque intermission) are few and far between.

Thom Yorke and company (currently operating under The Smile moniker), meanwhile, keep releasing their 'best since In Rainbows'  albums. Wall Of Eyes is instantly engaging, with substantial grooves, lovely wafts of strings and memorable vocal hooks that you can actually relate to. Really, you do not need to make an intellectual effort to appreciate the disarming piano-based ballad "Friend of a Friend".

Sleater-Kinney are still wildly praised by critics (mostly, and this gets increasingly clearer after reading the reviews, for their past glories) but at this point it is hard to see the appeal. Little Rope is a middling late-period album (much like their previous two) that sounds too laboured to generate any genuine excitement. A couple of songs aside, this is indie-rock with meat on its bones but very little edge. 

I also hear that Liam Gallagher has released a new single with John Squire. There is not much I can say about it, though, other than the obvious: "Rain" by The Beatles gets 5/5, and "Just Another Rainbow" gets 2/5. 


Songs of the month:


"If Tomorrow Starts Without Me" - Bill Ryder-Jones

"Did You End Up With The One You Love?" - Robert Forster

"Friend of a Friend" - The Smile

"Shiver" - The Libertines

"Undress Yourself" - Sleater-Kinney

"Can't Believe We're Here" - J Mascis

"Collect" - Torres