50 years on, Presence remains the most underrated Zeppelin record. After the grandiosity of Physical Graffiti, it’s refreshing to hear the stripped-back band, perhaps at its heaviest. It’s a shame that in its day most of the album never made it to the stage. A performance of For Your Life from the Ahmet Ertegun Tribute Concert, with Jason Bonham on drums, gives a glimpse of how Presence could have sounded live. But the legacy lives on. Among not that many covers, Tea For One by Joe Bonamassa and Nobody’s Fault But Mine by Baldassarre’s Soul of Zeppelin stand out.
Speaking of covers: I find the cover art (just like that of Wish You Were Here, also by Hipgnosis) uninspiring and having nothing to do with the the album’s music.
When the film was first premiered in September 1952 in Los Angeles, it consisted of five parts, including Howard Hawks’ “The Ransom of Red Chief”.
The Hawks short was so poorly received that the studio removed it before the film opened in New York that October, leading some outlets to describe the film as O. Henry’s Four of a Kind.
Remarkable, given that the Red Chief is arguably the funniest part. For me, it is not even “arguably”. It remains a mystery why the Spanish title still refers to the “four”.
One of the films we grew up on, Strictly Business (Деловые люди) by Leonid Gaidai, also includes a brilliant adaptation of The Ransom of Red Chief, starring the great Georgy Vitsin and Aleksei Smirnov. Imprinting and stuff notwithstanding, I think I prefer the Hawks’s version. Kathleen Freeman and Irving Bacon as the parents of J.B. are the best.
And another Soviet cinema connection: the opening scene of The Cop and the Anthem reminded us the final of 1975 Hello, I’m Your Aunt! (Здравствуйте, я ваша тётя!). Considering that the latter movie quotes many classic American comedies, I don’t think it’s a coincidence.
“Was that union blessed with any issue?”
“Er... What did you say?”
“Have they got any children?”
“Well...”
“You know, those little objects people get after they’re married.”
“Yeah. Well, I reckon you could say they have in a way.”
“Yeah.”
“May I ask what you mean by that foggy response?”
“Well, I reckon you could call J.B. a child, if you wanted to.”
“J.B.?”
“J.B.”
“That’s what they call him.”
“Oh, it’s a boy.”
“I reckon you might, uh, call him a boy.”
“Yeah.”
“How old is he?”
“J.B. is nigh on to 10 now.”
“What a lovable age in a boy.”
“Where did you say the Dorsets were living now?”
“Didn’t say.”
“Down the road a piece. A little white house with broken windows.”
“You ain’t told us why did you wanna buy the land for.”
“You know, I find your conversation rather limited, but very stimulating. Thank you.”
The three titular sisters lead their forlorn existence on a small island. Naturally, it’s all transformed when a sailor moves in. This (not so) slightly misogynistic short can make you giggle a couple of times before you get bored.
I wonder what was the real reason for giving this stop-motion animation its Oscar. Yes, it’s technically stunning. The story is rather dubious, to say the least. And I didn’t feel any emotional connection to its, let’s be honest, ugly characters.
every prop, set and character in the film has been handmade. There’s no CGI, no AI, everything you see is something real and tangible that you could hold in your hand.
Metheny’s debut LP, released 50 years ago today, remains one of my desert island jazz albums. Almost everything about it is, well, bright. Bob Moses on drums and pre-Weather Report Jaco Pastorius on bass shine throughout, and the man himself is not bad either. I said “almost”. I’m not a fan of “traditional” hollow-body jazz guitar sound which is too dull for my taste. IMHO a purely acoustic guitar or a solid-body electric guitar would make Bright Size Life even brighter. (Later, Metheny would develop the taste for guitar synthesiser which I also don’t care for; luckily, no such abomination here.)
I saw this event advertised simply as “obra teatro” to take place in the Civic Centre of Nanclares de la Oca. By what theatre? Anyway, I was intrigued: finally, something cultural is happening in Nanclares! Great or awful, I was determined to see it.
Thankfully, I was not alone: the auditorium was optimistically half-full. I’m glad that I came to the show. It’s clever, it’s funny, and it’s necessary. Núria Cano, a clown and a sexologist (that’s right), engaged the audience in unusual ways but, as I don’t want to spoil a surprise, I’ll say no more.
