MI-5: Season 8

A Few Faults, but MI-5 Season 8 Packs a Punch

By Kristin Battestella

Can you imagine my surprise when Netflix shipped Disc 1 of MI-5 Season 8 on its release date?  Seriously? No year of impatience with ‘very long wait’ delays and agonizing on the fates of the spies at Thames House? Not this time!

Section D members Ros Meyers (Hermione Norris) and Lucas North (Richard Armitage) race against the clock to rescue their Chief Sir Harry Pearce (Peter Firth) from the clutches of corrupt Russian agents- and exiled Intelligence Officer Ruth Evershed (Nicola Walker) is a critical piece of the mission.  Junior officer Jo Portman (Miranda Raison) and Tech guru Malcolm Wynn-Jones (Hugh Simon) struggle with the ups and downs of MI-5, while House Secretary Nicholas Blake (Robert Glenister) defends against dangerous political games at home and abroad.  Lucas perhaps finds romance with CIA Liaison Sara Caulfield (Genevieve O’Reilly), but the suspicious Nightingale operation may undue everyone at Thames House.  

It’s taken eight seasons, but I finally have some quibbles about MI-5 this series. Though tighter and more intense again in only eight episodes and kept crisp by the somber performances and edge of your seat politics, some of the opening storylines come across as a little bit of a rehash from earlier seasons. Too many similar relationships and Yalta shadow organizations seem uncharacteristically lazy from showrunner David Wolstencroft. However, I’m again impressed with plenty of juicy, ambiguous villainy- that type of villain who doesn’t think he is wrong and presents a grain of truth. Nay, this is the slick enemy who might actually be the one who’s right, for that’s the scariest kind, after all. This creates very intelligent drama and serious reflection, a refreshing turn since these recent seasons have been overtly leaning towards the action. In some ways, Season 8 returns to the heavy hitting personal dilemmas and gut wrenching stuff. Despite the usual ten episodes from MI-5’s height, these solid 57 minute, relatively bottled shows and reduced number of episodes seem to keep the heavy better. Yes, MI-5 has always been a political, statement making series.  However, Season 8 gets a little too political, perhaps even making some more anti-American bits than usual, too.  Then again, maybe it seems this way because now everyone has an opinion on every issue high and low and all around and we can read every single piece of it through every media source available. Whew!

A lot of slow motion and somber reflective scenes also add a much more heavy-handed design to the opening episodes this series.  Unfortunately, this direct focus on master global villain and political sentiment is at the expense of the main cast at Thames House. While the stories and action are still incredibly relevant and all is intelligent and good stuff, the regulars weren’t that big a part of it.  Somehow, it’s MI-5’s most critical piece that gets shortchanged amid all this excess being packed in. Instead of personal insights balancing the outside intrigue the main cast is overshadowed in relation to screen time with guest players, making an uneven rarity here.  It seems as if someone at MI-5 forgot that their story and players speak for themselves.  No other global statements or downplayed visuals are needed- these supports are meant to uplift the main stars, not detract. Seriously fine personal drama isn’t fully realized until the final episode, which spends more time on nuclear war anyway.  That ‘people who happen to be spies’ aspect of MI-5 is what kept the show so good for so long.  Why mess with the formula?

Thankfully, Hermione Norris is still pimpin’ as Ros Meyers. I would have liked a little more from her upon Jo’s exit, but what’s so disturbingly fun about Ros is that she always keeps it so cool and seems so unbothered. While the audience may know she is a ticking bomb, enemies who cross her path learn she’s the best in the biz- and usually they learn the hard way.  Her loyalty to Section D is without doubt, and yet Ros toes the line between lies, trust, and promises-wonderfully balancing the spy game rules for either good or ill.  Likewise, Richard Armitage matches Norris with edgy banter and heavy tasking. Even if MI-5 is  repeating on the CIA romance in Episodes 4 and 5, it’s nice to have that personal building with the season’s overall storyline. Again, this show is far superior when it’s about the blurred line between a seriously risky day job and an equally deadly personal lifestyle.  I like Lucas, even if I was yelling at the television at some of his mistaken actions.  Super Armitage fans will also enjoy some bits of nudity, too.

Nicola Walker, however, ups the class with her resurrected Ruth.  Despite some tragic circumstances in her return to Thames House, Ruth continues to be the moral fulcrum of the group.  I feel bad that most of her scenes are merely- if critical- intelligence exposition without field time and big action sequences, but in some ways, I enjoy the scenes between Ruth and Sir Harry the most.  Peter Firth is again delightful- perhaps more so when he can’t see the big picture and runs with his gut.  Hello, his position is not an easy one, and it’s so lovely to see a man sit back and realize he can’t handle the weight of the world on his shoulders without the fine colleagues about him. The unspoken tenderness between him and Ruth is again, a mature frankness we don’t often see among all the young and pretty people on American TV.

I’m sorry to see Hugh Simon’s tech old soul Malcolm Wynn-Jones exit, but his and Miranda Raison’s departure as Jo Portman are well done all around. Although in hindsight, both players were far under utilized and their exits were more about getting some angst at their losses rather than the characters themselves. The jury, however, is still out on new tech guru Tariq Masood.  Newcomer Shazad Motif receives no introduction at all- he’s actually just tossed in to MI-5, literally.  And I’m sorry, but what’s with the token minority anyway?  Why not have a lead minority and some more non-blondes for goodness sake. Why couldn’t we have had a black woman for our juicy CIA liaison? By no means is Genevieve O’Reilly bad, but I’m really unsure what to make of her, even though her credits include the likes of The Matrix Reloaded, Revenge of the Sith, and Avatar.  Again, it’s just that we’ve seen the sexy American intrigue before- give us something to spice it up, make us really care, and force us to pay attention beyond a touch and go Southern accent.  Robert Glenister (Hustle) is also caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place as MP Nicolas Blake, but his difficult road is a delight to watch.  

Despite my complaints about MI-5 this season, it’s still damn ass intense and interesting and addictive.  Let me tell you, I’ve never turned around 3 discs so fast! The herky jerky handheld camerawork is kind of aggressive, and the color palette is muted and not as creative as previous years- making me feel a little woozy and addicted to something else.  However, I imagine this design is meant to be more realistic and bleak then some of the fancy, stylized, probably more expensive shots from prior seasons. Truly, though, I don’t know why they started changing things up since Season 6. Naturally, things like smart phones, Facebook, and internet tech talk have to be considered- but it’s all a little weird and a bit much, however necessary it may be. And I have to ask: if Lucas is a damn spy, why is he always on speakerphone?!

There are two commentaries to open and close Series 8, but less than 20 minutes of behind the scenes- and that’s all about stunts.  Maybe that’s just how they feel Region 1 releases role, but the lack of features sucks compared to earlier video diaries and production interviews. I suppose I can’t complain now thanks to my no wait graces this viewing, but I’m still behind for Season 9 and the upcoming Series 10.  If after 8 years, MI-5 is starting to show some flaws, for now I can take it.  The good still far outweighs the bad.  Fans of the cast and quality action and intelligent thrillers can also still enjoy.  Once again, I don’t know what to do with myself now that I’ve caught up with MI-5 Season 8.  Perhaps I shouldn’t have watched all my discs so fast?  Nah.

Jennifer's Body

Unsure What to Make of Jennifer’s Body

By Kristin Battestella

So, I was sick in bed watching some other random movie.  After it went off, the 2009 Diablo Cody horror comedy Jennifer’s Body came on.  I couldn’t reach the remote control to change the channel, and had no desire to move anyway.  And thus, here I am, confused still at what could have been.

The popular Jennifer (Megan Fox) drags her nerdy but long time friend Anita- called Needy (Amanda Seyfried) - to a crappy bar to meet Low Shoulder, for Jennifer thinks the band’s lead singer Nikolai (Adam Brody) is hawt.  After a mysterious fire suddenly burns down the bar, Needy survives unscathed; but Jennifer is whisked away in Low Shoulder’s van.  When she returns, Jennifer gains an insatiable appetite for gutting and devouring male schoolmates.  Needy both suspects and fears the changes in her friend, but no one believes her demonic claims against Low Shoulder- the band has become a major success since the fire.  As Needy decides to confront Jennifer herself, she must also protect her boyfriend Chip (Johnny Simmons) from her hungry and deadly BFF.

I like most of the work I’ve seen from quirky screenwriter Diablo Cody- namely United States of Tara.  The writing from Cody- an Original Screenplay Oscar winner for her debut Juno- is not necessarily the problem with Jennifer’s Body.  The dialogue is frank, witty, and relatively realistic in the way the sassy younger generation speakeths.  It’s amusing to hear and see some of the things these kids say and do. In some scenes, the right blend of black comedy, preposterous horror, and even a few scares are just right.  However, director Karyn Kusama (Girlfight, Aeon Flux) never decides in which vein Jennifer’s Body actually falls.  If we are supposed to laugh and appreciate the social cynicism, why are you giving us such lengthy and scary gorefests?  But, if this is supposed to be straight horror, then there should be plenty more guts and gore than received.  In some ways, I can’t believe this is rated R!  This bipolar nature strikes an audience blow, because Jennifer’s Body never decides who its audience is.  Hardcore horror fans will find it lightweight and dismiss- and frankly, the precious 18-34 male demographic is going to be seriously disappointed in the lack of nudity and lame girl on girl teases.  I don’t think Diablo Cody meant the implied lesbian angles as such cop outs, but the relationship here is not handled with its due respect.  Seeing Amanda Seyfried and Megan Fox make out was just too much of a gimmick not to employ. And oh, they gimmicked it- and I must say, it fails woefully.  The visual put ons make Jennifer’s Body look like all fluff and no substance.  Sadly, I think it could have been much more.

After her woeful turn in Jonah Hex, Jennifer’s Body has not helped my opinion of Megan Fox at all.  I must say, she fits the part of the dangerously hot cheerleader. She handles the witty dialogue just fine, and even delivers a few well-placed zingers in perfect comedic timing.  With the proper grooming from an acting coach and un-conflicted approach from Kusama, perhaps she may very well have had some sardonic talent. Sadly, it just seems like Fox is playing herself, saying and doing what she would normally do to tease any weak and horny little boy.  Her tongue in cheek ‘I’m hot, look at me, but no nudity!’ taunts completely destroy the illusion this film is trying to create.  Are we supposed to like Jen? Hate her? If she is such a pimpin’ succubus, then we better see some pimpin’ succubus!  It’s ironic, for Megan Fox actually seems to be a relatively tame personality on the Hollywood scene.  Yes, she seriously says some bizarre things, but weird talk is nothing compared to the Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears types’ antics and issues.  Instead of showing its promise, Jennifer’s Body is completely indicative of Fox’s just fucking with audiences and seeing how long she can make her fifteen minutes last without actually really having to do anything.  You shouldn’t screw with a fickle audience as it is, honey, and if you want to stay in Hollywood, you will eventually have to do something worthwhile onscreen.

Whew, having said all that, I do like Amanda Seyfried’s (Mamma Mia!, Big Love) Needy.  Instead of just pulling her hair back and adorning the glasses, Seyfried adds nuances of geeky style.  Her skin seems oily, she wears weird clothes, and Needy does seem to have more than a subtext of feeling for Jennifer. Seyfried delivers the mix of irony, humor, and mousy Jennifer’s Body needs; and she still has enough left in the tank to kick it up a notch for the end.  I can see the charm of the script that most likely brought Seyfried to the project, for sure.  However, after having seen the outcome of the film and she as the only bright spot in it, I wonder why Seyfried is dumbing down to play such mediocre horror fair. She seems to be worth far more- and oily face aside, she completely outshines the supposed hottie Fox.

Sadly, the boys in Jennifer’s Body don’t come off as well.  Who the hell is Johnny Simmons (Evan Almighty, The Spirit) and how did he get this part?  While we can take leaps of faith and admit that 20-somethings, nay even 30-somethings often play our onscreen high schoolers, this guy looks seriously like he is 12 years old.  No way is this kid 24! Maybe I’ve grown super old now that my 30^th birthday is in sight, but I found it disturbing seeing this pup in a sex scene.  It was just weird. Too Bieber.  While I’m also not really sure what Adam Brody’s done to be so special (apparently, The O.C.), he was much more fun as Low Shoulder’s satanic band leader Nikolai.  The whole film should have been about Low Shoulder with an ambiguous Lance Henriksen in pursuit!  My favorite part of Jennifer’s Body is when the band breaks into a chorus of ‘Jenny 867-5309’ before the titular sacrificial deed is done.  This was the Generation Y horror comedy irony for which this film was looking, but never fully found. Or was trying to hard to achieve. I (and it) can’t decide.

Eh, Cody fans or lovers of the cast can tune in and enjoy Jennifer’s Body. There’s enough wit and entertainment placed few and far between for a fun night in with the gang. However, serious horror aficionados looking for social statements or those looking for a kinky late night scary or otherwise titillating thrill shouldn’t bother.  I wasn’t going to bother with a review, but I had to make the two hours of viewing totally worthwhile somehow.  Why are Fox’s movies always a superficial shadow and a miss of bad editing, design, and presentation? Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!

Blood Creek

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Blood Creek An Entertaining Little Horror Piece

By Kristin Battestella

No, I didn’t only tune in to Joel Schumacher’s relatively unknown Blood Creek for Michael Fassbender.  Henry Cavill’s here, too- and the words ‘Nazi Zombie Vampire’ are intriguing enough alone, let alone together.  Eye candy and scripting faults aside, Schumacher presents a unique, fun blend of monsters and alternative Nazi mysticism.

In 1930s West Virginia, The Wollner family is surprised when they receive a letter asking them to host Nazi scholar Richard Wirth (Fassbender). The financial compensation for the stay is an officer the poor German immigrants can’t refuse.  Unfortunately, Wirth is only interested in an ancient Viking rune stone found on the property and uses the stone’s power as part of his mystical practices and deadly Nazi rituals.  70 years later, EMT Evan Marshall (Cavill) can’t get over his brother Victor’s (Dominic Purcell) disappearance two years prior.  When Victor returns suddenly one night, Evan follows him back to the Wollner’s homestead- where Liese (Emma Booth), her brother Karl (Laszlo Matray), and their parents (Rainer Winkelvoss and Joy McBrinn) have not aged thanks to Wirth, who himself has changed into a vampire-esque monster on a quest for blood and immortality.

The Tudors meets Prison Break meets HEX? Not quite. Schumacher’s 2009 yarn adds some unique spins on the same old Nazi mysticism and occult naughty with early American connections, Viking lore, and Kensington Stone speculations.  It’s all very intriguing mythos, even as some confusion and plot holes enter in halfway thru Blood Creek. Let me get some of that out of the way first. Any well-worn and wise horror viewer will shout the obvious actions and ‘what they should have done…’ at the screen.  After such tender time is taken in the beginning twenty minutes to establish story and develop character, a few silly things may jar the viewer. They are in such a vengeful hurry- yet Victor has time for a shower and a haircut montage? Do EMTs always have rabies vaccinations handy on a vampire revenge siege? I don’t think the full potential of writer David Kajganich’s (The Invasion, Pet Sematary) vision was fully realized thanks to some cutting corners production and on the fly rewriting.  Some of the exposition is a bit much, perhaps crunched for time and space in the hour and a half frame.  If time- perhaps another fifteen minutes- had been taken to fully clarify and explore, Blood Creek could have been a seriously grand horror gem.  Instead, everyone gets on just fine despite the English and German barriers and all the foreign and ancient texts and runes. The good guys certainly do learn a lot- and it’s always just the thing they need and at the right nick of time, too.  I get these ills out of the way early, because Blood Creek is still somehow original and refreshing.

While not meant to be truly historical, the blend of undead Nazi obsession and contemporary vampirism isn’t as crazy as it sounds- the occult potential is quite the opposite in fact. This isn’t just the standard franchise fantastical serial slasher killer.  The rugged filming and quick pacing allow for some good action and style.  We even get an unusual little bit of a topper at the conclusion- but that’s almost expected in genre films today.  You’d think a combo Nazi Vampire Zombie movie would be popular now with the explosion of vamps for the masses and hip zombies in its wake. Schumacher (praised for St. Elmo’s Fire and A Time to Kill but maligned by Batman & Robin, oiy!) even leaves room for a sequel. But alas, too many title changes and the fact that it feels like nobody saw this movie hurts Blood Creek more than anything else. Despite some questionable story points, the tale here stays fun and entertaining.  Though overall serious and spooky, there are tongue in cheek hints and a wry sense of self.  Schumacher doesn’t let his Nazi Zombie Vampire yarn get too full of itself- in a way allowing us to forgive any faults and enjoy the good.  I must also confess, the name Wirth automatically had me thinking of Billy Wirth from The Lost Boys. “Death by Stereo!”  

Who knew Michael Fassbender could be just like The Mummy, but a Nazi and a Zombie and a Vampire and just a teensy bit scarier?  For those who only discovered the Irish-German actor thanks to his impressive covert turn in Inglourious Basterds, you can see his seductive and evilly enchanting German and juicy accent here,  pre-Basterds. In the first eight minutes of the movie, Fassbender captures a cruel and kinky ‘look fair and feel fouler’ style, and you have to speculate what nefarious things Wirth’s done to the younger Liese (Andreea Perminov) over the years.  Although there’s been better makeup on the evil face design forefront, the layering effects are intriguing- unwrapping more and more to reveal the Nazi mysticism twists as Wirth gets more blood.  While I’ve heard a few indulgent complaints that you don’t actually see Michael Fassbender’s face proper for most of the film; his macho physical movements, action style, and use of his body to convey fluid danger exudes performance beyond the prosthetics and brings Wirth to life with pimpin’ physicality.  Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he has a sweet trench coat and can pull off a fedora like no man’s business. (Not that I needed more evidence and he’s already in the sixties’ styled X-Men: First Class; but seeing Fass with a tilted fedora, pinstripe suit, and glowing cigarette all but confirms this man could play a period James Bond.  I’m just saying.)

Schumacher smartly doesn’t reveal Wirth’s true design all at once, making things all the creepier when we finally do see this elusive Nazi Zombie Vampire in all his glory.  Somehow, it is kind of amusing yet nevertheless frightening that Wirth can’t harm his victims thanks to some ‘do not enter’ rune signs on the house. To live in fear of a predator knocking on your door is real world terrifying enough sans any NZVs- that’s why we have locks and agoraphobics.  The fact that this terror is achieved by Fassbender’s again impressive (Hunger, anyone?) ability at total transformation for performance is just the bee’s knees.  For those that think he is just the next pretty face, Fassbender proves he can get along just fine without his good looks.  Wirth makes his Azazeal in HEX a puppy- and yet there’s still a hint of cheeky fun from Fassy as the monster of the piece.   I had written the following line in my quick typing notes and was going to change it later, but I think the simplicity speaks for itself:

Is that his voice doing the demonic chants?  Oh, yes.

As if one above and beyond pretty boy wasn’t enough, Henry Cavill proves he’s more than a one trick pony in Blood Creek, too.  The studly sidekick from The Tudors is innocent and believable here as an unsure brother and half-decent EMT.  His American accent is acceptable, too. Though sensible, it’s nice to see Evan go on a mini arc of taking matters into his own hands. He makes mistakes, yes, but learns how to stand up and be a man against Wirth. Naturally, a lot of this development necessitates being him shirtless- especially when things get down and dirty fighting with Wirth.  A lot of the depth for our heroic brothers does seem sacrificed in the final act in favor of action, making them seem a little too simplistically drawn.  Do we expect too much? Technically, we do have two secondary television leads at the forefront of our film. Both could have been heavier or stronger here, with serious character analysis taking the forefront, but Cavill and Parcell make the most of what they’re given- particularly in one fine confrontation scene.   Already Parcell seems typecast as the tough, cool bro who takes action first and thinks about the consequences later.  There is a touch of political spin with him being an Iraq veteran versus the evil occult Nazi, but not as much is made of it as there could be. Not that I want politics in my horror, but some post trauma memories or more militaristic style might have been nice.  Otherwise, Victor doesn’t have much room to grow.  Despite strides from the actors and potential with their relationships, too much trimming gives the impression that there’s nothing here to make these bros unique.  With such fine intrigue elsewhere, this shouldn’t be the case.  Early on hints of bro envy, daddy issues, and latent romance with the ethereal Emma Booth (Underbelly) inexplicably fall away.  And let’s not forget Henry Cavill was thisclose to being 007, too.  

Though hindered some by production, Blood Creek looks the good gore.  There’s not as much blood as the title would have us believe- especially against other contemporary bloodbath shenanigans- and I almost want to say the blood is too stylized or even neat. However, the demonic horses and mix of vampire blood allusions and zombie motifs are sweet.  The antique and subdued use of black and white in the period fine prologue is great, wonderfully hinting at the sinister or hiding the unspoken with a lovely use of shadow and light.  The farmhouse is perfectly claustrophobic and devoid of color and conveniences. Instead of looking like overdone sepia or bleak digital grading, Blood Creek looks that old school scary noir. In some ways, I’d like to have seen the entire picture set in this time and style.  Thankfully, the transition to color and the contemporary set up is also swiftly done, and the visual merging of the two styles as Blood Creek progresses is also neat and unexpected.   Though it’s a cool effect to see things from Wirth’s perspective, it’s a little unnecessary, and some of the nighttime photography is also tough to see.  Romania looks wonderfully spooky and bleak, but I wonder why they didn’t just film in West Virginia where the story takes place?  I suppose when you want to save some money, you do what you have to do.  Maybe Blood Creek could have been gorier considering the subject matter, but since we have only one baddie, there’s no need for excessive visuals taking away from the story.  If there had been an entire brood of evil triple eyed vampy Nazis, things might have been a lot scarier, sure. However, such a slaughter fest leaves no room for subtlety and speculation.  Normally, I wouldn’t trade intrigue for scares, but the former works far better in Blood Creek’s favor.  Truly, I don’t know why this was a direct to video release; it was better than some of the same old horror theatricals out there.  

Of course, a touch of Schumacher’s innuendo also finds its way into Blood Creek. Some of the fighting scenes between our three hot leads are positioned for just a touch of homoerotica.  Fans of Schumacher will notice if they’re looking for it, but it doesn’t overtake the picture. Some might be more concerned with a few wicked horse scenes and do mind one doggy death! Some audiences online had questions about the ending, but I think the outcome is clear and a few of the plot inconsistencies can even be food for thought after several viewings of Blood Creek. Quick references to the achievement of the third all seeing eye during an eclipse might be missed the first time around.  Critical viewers may wonder why the family kept all this going for so many years; but like the subdued daylight guardian of our traditional vampire, they didn’t really have a lot of choice. Wirth hasn’t been allowed to break out and feed to his content during a critical eclipse before.  He doesn’t go rip-roaring like this every night! Wirth says he was waiting for someone angry like Victor and will make him help and ‘feed him’.  Where Evan smartly sticks to the protection runes, Victor accidentally wipes his from his forehead. The ending narration claims the path to immortality is in swastika inscribed runes, and Wirth spent 70 years studying just such a stone.  It seems he did find a way to his goal, didn’t he? The ambiguity of the villain being the victor is perhaps the scariest thing of all.

I’m a sad there isn’t any behind the scenes features on the quickie Blood Creek DVD.  Subtitles, wow.   While the commentary from Schumacher provides some insights, it doesn’t give enough in how he came to this uniquely blended project.  He’s fun to listen to of course, but he’s also doing a commentary alone, which can get a little tiring during his longwinded Nazi History lessons.  I do, however, love the funny way he stops his historical yarns to fawn over Fassbender and Cavill- particularly when one blood-feasting scene gives Schumacher pause before telling the audience to go and rent Fassy’s starvation ode Hunger.  Really, him drinking blood reminded you of him starving himself? Schumacher also confesses to giving a ‘nice butt crack shot of Dominic for his fans’.  It really is a shame this picture had such a tough time with limited releasing.  Fans of the hot bodies in the cast will certainly delight here.  Yes, Blood Creek isn’t perfect, accept that. Nevertheless, horror fans looking for something a little different, fun, and intriguing should give these Nazi Zombie Vampires a chance. Who knew?

(On a totally ridiculous side note! For the life of me, I can’t find fellow Prison Break bro Wentworth Miller’s alleged cameo! A face in the newspaper clippings? Some German solder? Where? Where!) 

River of No Return

River of No Return a Fun Western Romp

By Kristin Battestella

Some westerns are better than others are, but that by no means suggests the 1954 classic River of No Return is a dog of a picture.  With exceptional scenery, fun talent, and a little bit of preposterous, this yarn still offers plenty of entertainment today.

Fresh out of prison, Matt Calder (Robert Mitchum) finds his young son Mark (Tommy Rettig), who has been taken in by saloon singer Kay (Marilyn Monroe) amid the Northwestern gold rush.  Matt hopes to return to the quiet outdoor life with Mark, and Kay sets out toward Council City with her fiancé Harry (Rory Calhoun) to record a gold claim he ‘won’ in a poker game. When Kay and Harry’s raft is caught on the rough river rapids, Matt rescues them.  Unfortunately, in return Harry steals Matt’s horse and rifle and leaves Kay as he rides on with his claim.  Despite dangerous rapids and angry Indians, Matt, Mark, and Kay brave the River of No Return with vengeance on their minds.

Though popular back in the day, River of No Return and director Otto Preminger (Laura, Anatomy of a Murder) had their fair share of off screen notorious.  Everything from Monroe’s apparent injuries and acting coaches to Preminger’s grumbling over contractual issues and his divided set made life difficult for Frank Fenton’s (The Wings of Eagles) screenplay from Louis Lantz’ story. It’s not all bad- the direction is fine and there’s plenty of potential in the story.  However, some of the dialogue is a little hokey, a little too matinee western for what turns out to be such serious stuff.  Instead of being super heavy and gritty, River of No Return falls prey to the stilted action when it didn’t have to do so.  Naturally, things are stereotypical on the Indian angles- complete with booming drums at every appearance.  Again, instead of being a realistic and heavy portrayal, they only serve the action purely for action’s sake. Even if you are looking for some of that old-fashioned western kind of hokey, River of No Return had a lot more potential. Despite this apparent unevenness, enough still holds together for a thrilling yarn. 

You have to admit, no matter how infamous the movie, there’s something pimpin’ about Robert Mitchum.  The bad boy star of Cape Fear, Heaven Knows Mr. Allison, The Story of G.I. Joe, and Night of the Hunter (I’ll stop!) broods even when he’s carrying a soft spot here.  We believe rough and tumble Mitchum as the ex-con Matthew- and not because of his own real life brushes with the law. Mitchum adds dimension and stature as the regretful dad trying to pick up the pieces with his son.  The tender dynamic alone is enough to keep us watching- until things get really saucy, that is. Yeah, yeah, a nice dad trying to teach a ten year old some hard lessons learned- yet we know it’s only a matter of time before Matt gets rough and juicy with Kay.  Some of River of No Return drags or seems a little too back and forth between the soft character scenes and rip-roaring action, but it’s not Mitchum’s fault.  Regardless of how outlandish things get, his layered presence won’t let you look away.  

Well, her hair is kind of weird here, but my goodness what a waist on Marilyn Monroe! Scarlett O’Hara can have her 18 inches!  The bebustled corsets and tiny, racy red, green, and gold frocks make the iconic screen goddess seem a little out of place in such a rugged western, but some good old jeans add a little more realism to Monroe’s look. Even back then, it was all about the eye candy, wasn’t it?  Some of the low cut costuming and rough come-ons might have been a little risqué for the time, but MM fans will love this attempt at something different.  Monroe’s musical material is not the type we expect per Gentlemen Prefer Blondes or There’s No Business Like Show Business, and there isn’t even that much of it.  The renditions, however, are good, with Monroe again proving she can vary it up.  While it looks like she had some practice with it, I don’t think Monroe is really playing the guitar. But, I don’t think her singing was dubbed. If you see enough of her movies, you recognize her speaking and singing range. Kay sounds like Marilyn! However, I actually wonder why they fell back on some musical numbers here.  Although it’s refreshing to just have folks singing ditties and strumming guitar rather than blissful singing cowboy musical westerns, River of No Return needed more drama, not music flair.  We presume Kay to be the bad girl, but she has a care for little Mark and always gets involved with the wrong men.  Despite some weak dialogue and doubts about the music, really what’s not to love?

 We don’t see him very often in River of No Return, but what we do see of Rory Calhoun (How to Marry a Millionaire) is so slim and shady it’s juicy.  He has a lot to trump against Mitchum, but his crooked gambler in the slick suit is love to hate worthy.  What guy leaves Marilyn Monroe, honestly? Likewise, Tommy Retting (Lassie) is a lot of fun.  Somehow, this pint-sized streetwise charmer strikes a tender balance between the big stars.  Perhaps it’s again a little hokey, but also so cute how Mark needs and wants a dad, yet calls him by his first name. We want this unusual father-son pair to have the nice life- and if a rough around the edges lady like Kay can complete them, all the better.  Maybe it’s obvious that this is how River of No Return will end up, but it’s certainly fun in getting there.

I must confess, when I think of this movie, I think of two things. On one hand, the Canadian visuals are very, very sweet- the mountains of Jasper Park and the glorious riverside forestry are downright breathtaking.  It’s like those old nature Disney videos that used to relax you and put you to sleep in those darkened science classrooms! The natural photography here is exceptional, end of story.  However, the up-close action and rapid rafting is obvious film trickery, to say the least.  It’s like when you see those looped backgrounds behind the cars while the actors mime over the steering wheel- but on a splashy raft in an onset tank.  We shouldn’t be so surprised thanks to our current love of over the top blue screen work, but yes, they did it back then, too.  Of course, the tricks aren’t as bad as they could be-the blend of the two shots is actually fairly seamless, without any super obvious cut and splice outlines.  The mountain lion scenes also seem corny in the fifties film styling, as does the scoring and old-fashioned opening song.  But all that’s to be expected. Besides, isn’t the point of River of No Return all the visuals- those mountains and Miss Monroe- in all their Cinemascope glory?

Fans of classics and good old school westerns can watch River of No Return again and again.  Rough Mitchum lovers and Marilyn Monroe connoisseurs can also complete their collections with several DVD editions- from the affordable to the Monroe box set.  Online options, rentals, and streaming opportunities also ensure plenty of viewings for years to come.  Of course, that sweet river is not on blu-ray yet, but I digress.

Jailhouse Rock

Jailhouse Rock Full of Elvis’ Charm and Finery

By Kristin Battestella

You’ve been educated previously about my favorite Elvis Presley picture King Creole.  Though Jailhouse Rock is my very close second, this 1957 romp is probably one of his most famous- if not THEE most lauded of his films.  Everyone knows the iconic titular dance number; and odd trivia like Elvis’ prisoner number dominate among fans of the King of Rock ‘n Roll.  Add compelling drama and musical fifties delights, and honestly, what’s not to love?

Vince Everett’s (Presley) temper lands him a stint in the penitentiary along side washed up country singer Hunk Houghton (Mickey Shaughnessy).  Although Vince can carry a tune, Hunk teaches him the ropes on the inside, how to play his guitar- and most importantly, the cruelty of the music industry.  Hunk hopes to get back into the biz with Vince when they get out, but upon his early release, Vince strikes out on his own.  After toiling with no money and no singing breaks, he meets recording scout Peggy Van Alden (Judy Tyler) and cuts a record.  Peggy has faith in Vince and his music, and the two start up their own label after strikeouts and betrayal from the bigger recording companies.  Vince and his manager Mr. Shores (Vaughn Taylor) enjoy counting the money, and Vince finds himself in Hollywood with dames and the convertible he always wanted.  But is the price of fame worth the cost of Vince’s friendships and where he comes from?

Though Elvis is of course known for his irreplaceable music first and foremost and his often less than stellar acting career second, Jailhouse Rock is one of his finer performances- before all the carbon copy song snoozers. His Vince Everett is allowed time to develop his anger and rebellious youth before we get to all the singing and dancing. Yes, the music is an integral part of the story, but this isn’t the usual lighthearted fair with huge, colorful production numbers every ten minutes. Elvis is going to prison, getting his hair cut, and suffering in coal labor- this is heavy stuff for the screaming fans of 1957! By time we get to ‘Young and Beautiful’ fifteen minutes in, we don’t think it’s just an excuse for Elvis to sing.  Vince’s meager prison rising and subsequent stardom feel realistic and believable.  Sure, Jailhouse Rock is not unlike Elvis’ own humble beginnings-perhaps no other character has him so nearly playing himself, and the audience knows this.  However, Elvis brings his real emotion, skill, and more to Vince’s style and journey - be it his rough side, great sarcasm, or that undeniable singing persona.  He’s Elvis; he can’t really help that part, can he? Even if you somehow just landed on this planet and don’t know who Elvis is, you see him perform ‘Don’t Leave Me Now’ and you are hooked.

Balancing Elvis onscreen can’t be easy, but Judy Tyler (The Howdy Doody Show) is great as the fifties dressed but educated businesswoman who knows how to keep her head in the tough music business.  Of course, Peggy does harbor a wonderful soft spot, doesn’t she?  Her wavering over Vince is very well played, not girlie girl and melodramatic like so many of the over the top ladies of the day.  Instead of being merely a love interest, Peggy is a great antithesis and fulcrum for Vince because she can see beyond the fame and dollars.  Tyler is so lovely and charming here, and it is such a shame her life was cut short only weeks after completing filming.  Likewise, Mickey Shaughnessy’s (From Here to Eternity) Hunk Houghton adds layers to the prison life with his first guitar ditty ‘One More Day’. Indeed the harsh support is not in the traditional fifties musical atmosphere we expect.  We know Hunk might be a tender soul if it weren’t for the sour of show business and the prison system he’s established for himself.  Although he gets Vince straight laced and on the musical path, we don’t like when Hunk comes sniffing around Vince again. However, the audience feels for him all the same when Vince gives him one humble on the chin after another.  Eventually something has to give between the two former kings of Cell Block 21. Thankfully, Vaughn Taylor (Psycho) is a lot of fun as the bespectacled calculator Mr. Shores and keeps Jailhouse Rock light hearted when needed, too.

Naturally, if you don’t like good old-fashioned rock and roll or classic fifties looks and musical stylings, you might not be interested in Jailhouse Rock. Though black and white (forget those blasphemous colorized versions), the mid-century clothes and accessories are fun to see.  How swanky everything looks- the drinking and cigarettes, upturned collars, plenty of greased hair, the old record players and studio design.  I mean, they have record booths!  The cars are sweet and the pads are mod.  We even get a great old-fashioned montage with ‘Treat me Nice’, too.  Of course, the big jailhouse titular number an hour into the film is, well, its ‘Jailhouse Rock’.  We don’t have many more fifties iconic Americana than this.  Ironically, the routine is black and white cardboard, small scale, film within a film tight, all men, and not the best dancing to some by today’s standards. With that said, the streamline design, risqué moves, and damn fine music still works specifically because it is so different than other Broadway styled spectacles of the time. Jailhouse Rock is not There’s No Business Like Show Business. Time isn’t wasted on such cinematic choruses.   Actually, there’s not even that many songs here- after ‘(You’re So Square) Baby I Don’t Care’, we end wonderfully with a ‘Young and Beautiful’ reprisal.  A musical without a lot of music? It just goes to show you maybe Elvis can really act after all.

Director Richard Thorpe (Knights of the Round Table, Ivanhoe, The Prisoner of Zenda) keeps Jailhouse Rock together with a nice blend of story and drama, allowing for performance in a plot that just happens to be about a singer and some music.  Though well paced and evenly displayed here, Vince’s humble roots, rise to the top, and errors of the high life learned are perhaps predictable to us now.  Nedrick Young (The Defiant Ones) and Guy Trosper’s (The Spy Who Came in from the Cold) fine and mature tale is actually fairly modern and still plays well today.  Though innocent for contemporary youthful audiences, Jailhouse Rock was actually kind of kinky and suggestive for its time. Oh my goodness prison whippings and women lying on beds!  What, also, is implied with the forced studio coupling of Sherry (Jennifer Holden) with Vince?  Was this one of those suggestive gay cover-ups- only to have Sherry ‘converted’ by a kiss from Elvis?  There’s certainly some steamy and amusing subtext- particularly in the titular routine- for those who want to find it.

Honestly, this is the first time I’ve sat down with Jailhouse Rock since seeing Emmy nominated and Golden Globe winner Jonathan Rhys Meyers (The Tudors) in the 2005 television biopic Elvis. I’m a little surprised to see how alike the shows are.  Meyers puts on his best angry, brooding, hip, and sexy; yet, it doesn’t quite compare.  Jailhouse Rock is still vivid, serious, and heavy enough for today’s complex audiences.  Of course, the prophetic Hollywood gone awry plot here is wonderfully ironic, too.  Whether by his own acceptance or management interference, Elvis does sell out later in film- Tickle Me and Fun in Acapulco? Come on.  We laugh at the woefully bad majority of Elvis’ pictures indeed- and yet like the gawking crew within Jailhouse Rock, we still can’t look away, 50 years later.

Available in several DVD editions, my older copy of Jailhouse Rock offers both full and widescreen, and subtitles not always matching the dialogue as its biggest extra offerings. Unfortunately, it doesn’t play in any of my computers for screen captures. Bummer.  Thankfully, fancy sets and a new blu-ray edition have all the glory, bells, and whistles for collectors and Elvis enthusiasts. Casual classic fans or musical lovers and budding Elvis aficionados also can’t go wrong with a television viewing or other affordable rental option. Spend the night doing a little Jailhouse Rock and you’ll understand why Elvis is, well, Elvis. 

Angel (2007)

Angel a Fun, Fanciful Take on Period Romance Yarns

By Kristin Battestella

I’m surprised it seems hardly anyone has seen the 2007 period drama Angel stateside- especially in light of the chick flick period piece abundance in recent years: Becoming Jane, Pride & Prejudice, and Atonement, anyone? Unlike brooding Austen-esque serious romances or stuffy period snooze fests, French director François Ozon’s tongue in cheek look at British period pieces offers over the top wit, fun love, and a touch of Victorian heavy.

Angel Deverell (Romola Garai) dreams of becoming a famous writer and leaving her mother’s (Jacqueline Tong) grocery shop for the grand life at the nearby Paradise House estate.  When the young and precocious Angel submits her manuscript to publisher Theo Gilbright (Sam Neill), the whirlwind of fame and success soon follow, despite criticisms from Mrs. Hermione Gilbright (Charlotte Rampling) and Angel’s aunt Lottie (Janine Duvitski).  Dowdy and shy poet Nora Howe-Nevinson (Lucy Russell) admires Angel greatly and quickly ingratiates herself as Angel’s live-in secretary.  Angel, however, becomes smitten with Nora’s brother, the lothario painter Esme (Michael Fassbender), and soon rushes to marry him.  All seems right and beautiful to Angel at her Paradise House, but war and the coming Edwardian changes soon force her to see beyond her fiction- both on the page and in real life.

Based on the book by Elizabeth Taylor- no, not that Elizabeth Taylor- director Ozon (Swimming Pool) and co writer Martin Crimp (London South West) wonderfully blend the Victorian charm and stuffy sensibilities with an intentionally fanciful storybook styled humor and ability to laugh at one’s self. Angel begins with bemusing turn of the century settings and shocked old ladies- and the contrast keeping a modern, refreshing vibe throughout. The titular Angel enjoys her tawdry behavior and the funny reactions of the uptight around her, and even if this makes her a little unlikable to start, we are entertained nonetheless. It’s as if Little Women or Gone with the Wind has grown up for contemporary audiences.  With lots of old time montage stylings, laugh out loud dry Brit wit, and a somehow un-super sappy romance; this period piece drama is able to offer plenty of character success, pity, admiration, and love talk while keeping itself lighthearted, realistic, and sensible. Yes, all this lovely dovey stuff can be silly, and our characters rise and fall accordingly- but there’s a good story to be told, that’s all that matters. Naturally, Angel is an unabashedly sentimental film full of over the top bias- but despite heavier subject matter in the second half of the picture, Ozon doesn’t let these hedonistic characters take themselves too seriously.  Things do get a little kinky, as well, but the crisscrossing love triangles and speculations somehow remain innocent or left for the audience to bear in mind for the players at hand.  Everyone here keeps secrets, each uses everybody else, and though an overall blissful tale, Angel comes to its eventual tragedies wonderfully. It’s amazing how fortunes lost can be the best thing ever or how the fruition of our wildest dreams can come to ruin and such unceremonious end.  Angel balances the love, hope, and drama without all the heavy we expect in European melodrama.

Well, it’s lovely to see a young writer in the hopes of greatness, but Angel is a little bitch isn’t she?  I’d love to smack her for being such a snob who tantrums until she gets her way and thinks she’s just perfect for never having read anything.  Angel also has a serious case of over-active imagination- today we’d call that being a delusional compulsive liar and medicate her up! Talk about someone who’s fresh, ungrateful, and completely full of it. You can be driven to an artistic goal without being a bitch, and Romola Garai (Atonement, As You Like It) does a fine job of balancing Angel’s humble motivations and fantastical lifestyle. Angel is so ashamed of where she comes from, and we can certainly understand her hopes and dreams.  We want to see her succeed, but Angel obviously gets swept up in the high life and fame a little too quickly- and it’s all her own making anyway. She gets everything she wants- but at what price? Marriage, motherhood, the very writing she loves so much? It’s wonderful to see Garai’s progression of character, not because Angel starts out as such a bitch, but because we want to see the reform and the takedown of the sell-out.  The audience needs Angel to learn how to not be such a fake-will she?  It’s enchanting to see Angel’s Victorian splendor and pop juicy books loose their luster as changing Edwardian fates find her in true Dickensian fashion. She uses her mother’s death for more authorly mystique and is blinded by her own image of Esme right to the end.  Angel gives false eulogies and lies about every circumstance and situation. Such a flake can’t really ever share of herself, can she? Despite being great artists, everyone in Angel wears masks and no one can fully express him or herself.  Angel has it all and it isn’t good enough, when will she be satisfied?  Part of Angel’s trouble is that we might not exactly like our titular protagonist, yet Garai is delightful in making her so distasteful and over the top.  Even so, we can certainly relate to Angel’s delights, as well as the err of her ways.

Well, Michael Fassbender (Hunger, Fish Tank) enters Angel a half hour into the film, and  hot diggity dog, Esme is meant to be an over the top, breathtaking rogue. The zing between the zealous writer and crappy painter is played with some old-fashioned fun to start. Here swoops in the checkered knight in shining armor, and Angel sees past all his ills for her own gains.  Esme seems as precocious as Angel, so serious about his paintings, as if his are the only artwork of note ever.  His idealized-in-Angel’s-eyes-charm forgives his promiscuous bohemian painter ways- because no one in Angel likes to face the music of the real world.  Esme’s touched by Angel’s attention- but isn’t afraid to use her on the rise to the top, either. It’s so giggly to see how each is trying to fast track the other, because both see the fake but can’t quite look in the mirror at themselves. For Angel, Fassbender is styled perfectly with some ginger light hair and a bit of a snotty RP accent. However, his eyes are lovely and again carry character and performance unsaid.  Was there really any doubt we were going to enjoy him in this movie?  Again, I’m surprised this was not the film that made Fassbender a star, the good looking but shitty and traumatized painter!  And he is definitely very Bond-ish in a wet tuxedo with a rainbow over his head- I’m just saying.  Seemingly just the hot Picasso, when World War I comes Fassbender captures Esme’s torment- the battlefront and deception on both sides of the marriage ruins all. Esme’s continued emasculation at Angel’s hands builds wonderfully to the film’s conclusion.  Perhaps considering his tragedies, personal demons, and premature death, it’s not a compliment to compare a modern actor to my old favorite Montgomery Clift.  However, the more of Fassbender’s work I see, the further impressed I become in his Clift-like ability to so passionately immerse himself with such body and soul into his character and yet be so subtle and on the mark about it.  You can go into a film certainly thinking it’s just a hot Fassy fest.  However, by the end of Angel you come away thinking, ‘Hot damn, he did it again!’ We don’t see Fassbender at all, just Esme facing his fate.  Yowza!

Not to be outdone by the young leads, Sam Neill (The Tudors, Jurassic Park) is perfectly period charming as Angel’s publisher.  His lovely father figure ways, lingering devotion, and putting up with Angel’s worst add weight and realism. Gilbright sees her potential and the good of her work and Charlotte Rampling (The Swimming Pool, The Verdict) adds equal class as his critical but respectful wife.  Jacqueline Tong (Upstairs, Downstairs) is also delightful as Angel’s mother, walking the fine line between support, spoiling, and humility.  By contrast, Janine Duvitski (One Foot in the Grave) is a lot of fun as Angel’s doubting old aunt. The viewer needs an onscreen representative of realism and skepticism. Despite the melodramatic angles, the supporting ensemble does this and grounds Angel wonderfully. Last but by far not least, Lucy Russell (Tristan + Isolde) is perfection as the closeted and nerdy Nora. The complete opposite of sassy and decadent Angel, Nora is desperate to live vicariously through her.  There’s plenty of latent implications here as well.  Does Nora want Angel’s physical love or does she really want to embody her writing spirit like a Single White Female muse? It’s fascinating to see Angel use Nora and enjoy playing the Howe-Nevinson siblings against each other.  

Oh, Angel offers some sweet costumes, too- from the early humble of the disenfranchised underbelly to all the late Victorian opulence and debutante styles. It’s also nice to see the contrast of pre-War decadence juxtaposed with the loose and comfortable twenties flapper styles and how these differences reflect great character faults and strides. Instead of longwinded hyperbole laced with modern wartime and political statements, the silent Victorian splendor shows how out of touch it really is after the Great War.  Seriousness and whimsy are instead smartly handled by the musical arrangements.  We have both famous compositions and original scoring by Philippe Rombi (The Girl from Paris) to anchor the somber and serious or the sweeping and seemingly epic fun.  The lovely estates, locations, and witty photography are also charming, complete with the mix of horse drawn carriages, cool early cars, quills and clickety typewriters!

I mentioned Gone with the Wind earlier, but Angel also seems like a modern My Fair Lady jolly old Gigi musical or the female take on The Magnificent Ambersons as well.  Some period romance fans may be put off by the seemingly mocking and dreamlike tone- after all, why not just make a straight period romance? The play of genres is also a little uneven- I feel split in some ways in my analysis here. It’s a romance, but not sappy; period but fantasy, lighthearted yet still heavy.  I suppose either you accept Ozon’s vision for Angel or you don’t. However, for those of us who don’t like our period dramas so overtly romantic, Angel fills the void with artistic analysis and flights of fancy.  Though not for super young ones, reading and writing teens or mature families should be able to handle the brief nudity, subtext, and suggestion.  Angel may even be fun for a comparative college course discussion on book to film adaptations and contemporary film romance debates.  The newly released Region 1 DVD offers a nice fifteen-minute interview segment with the cast and Ozon, but otherwise it’s just trailers and plenty of previews on the rental edition.  I suppose a commentary might have been tough for Ozon to do in English, but c’est la vie.

Uncommitted viewers can find their preferred rental and streaming options or catch Angel on the Sundance Channel.  (Actually, I just call it ‘The Fassbender Network’ because the channel shows Angel, Hunger, and Fish Tank quite often.)  Fans of the cast will definitely delight, and writers or fans of authors on film can appreciate this one.  Indulge in the grandiose period fun with Angel tonight.

More Christmas Vinyl

More Christmas Vinyl

By Kristin Battestella

It’s that time of year again! Time to dust off those warped Christmas vinyl delights and enjoy the snap, crackle, and pop of records in lieu of a real toasty fireplace- after awhile, they sound the same anyway.  Here are a few timeless hits to enjoy again on the phonograph or bring into the digital play list. 

Barbra Streisand A Christmas Album – Reissued in several CD sets, this 1967 Christmas debut has remained popular thanks to big and fine Broadway-esque renditions of classics like The Christmas Song and Ave Maria, with new arrangements of My Favorite Things and The Lord’s Prayer.  I could, however, do without Babs’ iffy take on Jingle Bells- her super speedy arrangement makes you want to check if you have the right RPM speed.  Otherwise, this short half hour set is perfect for a mature evening of holiday martinis, mimosas, and memories. 

Christmas Hymns George Beverly Shea – The longtime Billy Graham Crusade vocalist lends his deep sound to not often heard classics like Put the Christ Back into Christmas, I Wonder as I Wander, and O Men from the Fields along with traditional carols such as Go Tell It on the Mountain and Sleep Precious Babe.  Obviously recorded with plenty of reverence in mind, this lovely set is perfect for a Christmas Eve candlelight dinner or a somber late night wrapping presents. Although it looks like this record is part and parcel with the CD A George Beverly Shea Christmas and contemporary listeners might not be accustomed to such old-time baritone arrangements; today’s spiritual families would be hard pressed to find a more focused Christian Christmas album.

Holiday Sing Along with Mitch – Well, I can’t think of a more annoying album than this kitschy set from Mitch Miller- and it’s complete with song sheets, too.  However, no holiday household full of kids is complete without this fifties best seller.  Honestly, Must be Santa and the Twelve Days of Christmas on one record? With Frosty and Rudolph, too? Oh me oh my, the kids can go to town with this one, and adults will definitely be singing along with these easy arrangements- by choice or torture.  Thankfully, mellow renditions of I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, The Christmas Song, and Silver Bells balance the fun for all.

Jackie Gleason White Christmas ­– Though one can debate how much Gleason actually took part in his musical endeavors, slow and moody treats like the titular staple, Blue Christmas, I’ll Be Home for Christmas, and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas are most excellent secular instrumentals for a lonely winter’s night or a private, mellow evening for two.  Even normally upbeat hits like Let it Snow and Jingle Bells are slowed down to waltzing pace with your turtledove here. Talk about fifty cents well spent! Such brass, such velvet…hot damn.

A Merry Mancini Christmas – This swanky 1966 LP from the Oscar winning composing maestro begins with a fine Little Drummer Boy and continues with smooth medleys of secular essentials like Winter Wonderland and Silver Bells- as well as the classic carols We Three Kings, O Come All Ye Faithful, and Joy to the World.  Some modern listeners may not be used to the choral styled vocals, but the blended sound is soft and easy for all to enjoy.  I don’t know about the happenin’ Rudolph rendition here, but kids always love that one. The record also adheres to the old format of secular tunes on one side, religious compositions on the other, assuring something for everyone, indeed.

Season’s Greetings from Perry Como – I happened to find this 1959 record hidden within another set and was pleasantly surprised to find all the traditional greats like Home for the Holidays and Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer in one collection.  Como’s good old jolly mid-century style adds winter charm to Here we Come A Caroling, Winter Wonderland, and even the traditionally somber God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. He doesn’t have the range for O Holy Night, but it’s also nice to here this lofty tale down on the easy notch.  A Christmas Story melody of words and songs adds a little family reverence for all to enjoy as well. Como perfectly combines the best of the secular season with the true meaning of Christmas.

I’ve linked to the CD versions of these albums on Amazon, although a few are out of print or not available for download.  However, it also occurs to me that one might not have a record player anymore these days- although the current ease of USB plug-in and conversion processes have brought several copying entertainment systems back on the market in common department stores like Target and K-Mart.  My current record player- a Crosley stand-alone unit now discontinued- was an early Christmas gift from my mother in 2003.  I had spent the previous year without a player after the needle on my automatic player broke, so $60 at Value City was a stereophonic steal as far as I’m concerned. 

Even with the ease of digital music, the affordability of transferring equipment and the nostalgia of records at second hand shops have returned- and it’s just perfect for the Christmas season!