Archive for the ‘Reviews’ Category

The Day of the Locust is Unmitigated Insanity of the Highest Sort
May 4, 2009

It’s no secret that I’ve a penchant for movies that movies that are curious and over the top.  I’m an ardent obsessive of camp, and I revel in movies that flaunt their mad visions and embrace their craziest whims.  I love the movies that have never said “no” to a bad idea or considered that they might be crossing a line.  Hell, I’ve practically made it my quest to mine the coal of film’s expansive history in order to find the most glittering diamonds of batshit insanity.  Well, ladies and gentleman, I’ve already found what may the Hope Diamond of this journey.  I give you The Day of the Locust, a movie somehow far stranger than this surreal, French poster for the film:

rr_0008day-of-the-locust-posters

 

Oh, and it’s infinitely more garish than the America poster would imply:

day_of_the_locust

Still unconvinced?  Let me just give you a taste of the craze.  Let’s go watch aspiring starlet Faye Greener (Karen Black) get in a fight with her sickly father (Burgess Meredith):

I don’t know whether to laugh at the garish campiness of the performances or have nightmares for the rest of my life, but it’s captivatingly bizarre no matter your reaction, and believe me when I say that this scene is merely the tip of iceberge that is John Schlessinger’s epic, gonzo vision of Hollywood as the festering epicenter of failed dreams and a society in rapid decline.  There’s also (for example, yet impressively enough not limited to) the sublimely grotesque yet perversely compelling pleasures of Burgess Meredith’s heart attack at Donald Sutherland’s house, the church scene, Karen Black doing tequila shots (itself one of the profoundly ridiculous moments in cinema), and the cock fighting scene.  Seriously, I don’t know why you’d even bother finishing this reviews before putting it at the top of your Netflix queue.  Trust me.

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As a Fellow Theatergoer Was Overheard to Observe, I Can Attest to the Following: Obsessed is Definitely NOT Whack
April 28, 2009

If anything, Obsessed is something of a small miracle.  Hollywood seems to love producing mirthless crap on a daily basis, so much so to the point where you point where one might think that Hollywood’s only business is producing joyless cinematic equivalents to pond scum.  But such is most certainly not the case with Obsessed.  Is it bad?  No doubt.  Terrible?  Quite possibly.  But I liked it, nay, loved it:

obsessed-ring-on-it

Obsessed is, to be certain, a terrible movie.  The acting is at very best vampy sexpot camp (Ali Larter) and the inimitable brand of steely faced, bitch-please crazy that Beyonce has elevated to a minor art, yet it’s in other places rather tepid (Idris Elba’s performance seems rather befuddled, almost as though he hired by simply wandering onto the set) or head-scratchingly absurd (Jerry O’Connell’s horndog schtick seems to have been beamed in from another planet).  

The screenplay is an impressive black hole for logic and character motivation.  Beyonce’s the dream wife because the movie says so.  Ali Larter gets obsessed because the movie says so.  The cop doesn’t believe that Ali Larter’s wearing the least seductive pair of business casual crazy pants because the movie says so.  Showgirls infamously asked that you leave your inhibitions at the door.  Obsessed demands you to do the same with you deductive reasoning skills.

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Gossip Girl IV: A New Hope
April 21, 2009

Last night’s Gossip Girl was rather peculiar.  The Blair/Nate/Grandpa Archibald plot?  A curious plot of deception and double-crossings involving Nate wanting to go to Columbia because he got in on his own, and Blair and Pop-pop Archibald wanting Nate at Yale so Blair could be a socialite and grandpa can still feel in control of the family legacy–except that it turns out that he turned Nate’s dad in to the SEC!  Muy escandaloso!  Perfectly fine as filler, I suppose, except that it tried to act like this was riveting political intrigue; instead, it felt over baked and underdeveloped (particularly in terms of Blair’s turn).  I mean, was there really no easier way than this to keep both Blair and Nate in NYC for the third season?  I’m just going to guess and say there was.

Added to that, the Seder dinner plot line played out like an equally overblown poor man’s comedy-of-errors dinner party.  Dan’s a cater waiter at the dinner to help pay for college, but Lily and Rufus are there and can’t know because Dan has pride!  Eeks!  Serena’s maybe-husband-due-to-a-debauched-night-in-Europe shows up, so Serena pretends she and Dan are back together (don’t worry, she’s not married, but she is totally crushing on her fauxsband)!  Yipes!  Eleanor Waldorf is sick of tradition and just wants to get her kosher eat on!  Gosh!

One particular sequence was shot and edited as if  the director of this week’s episode had just seen the dinner party scene at the end of the original The Thin Man.  All the tight shots of faces and quick cuts in conversation crave to be ZANY, SCREWBALL DRAMEDY!  Sadly, none of it’s particularly compelling.

Then, in the minor plots with characters that are momentarily entirely useless to everyone, Jenny continues to look like a depressed raccoon, but now she has a crush on a total butterface.  Chuck is so dramatically useless as a teenage billionaire that the best the screenwriters come up with is to have him apologize for forcing himself on Jenny from way back in the beginning of the first season.  I’m not saying that the apology wasn’t warranted, but I am saying that this show is clearly running on empty for ideas.  

That all said, I see a light at the end of the tepid tunnel:

HUZZAH!

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Stop What You’re Doing and Go See Miroir Noir. RIGHT. NOW!
April 20, 2009

Really, y’all.  Saturday afternoon, amidst soup making and reading camp theory outside because the weather’s just too gorgeous to stay indoor (that’s what everybody does with their Saturdays, right?), I took a break from getting my academic nerd on and switched nerd gears and went full on music+film nerd.  I couldn’t help it; there was a two-for-one nerd sale at Nerdazon.com, and–let’s be frank–I’m a sucker for discount prices.  They’re my Waterloo.

Anywhosie, I’ve digressed.

The point of this all is that I watched Miroir Noir, the recently released documentary about the recording of and subsequent tour for the Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible, and this movie was nothing short of spectacular.  I mean, there are no words to describe it.  

Oh wait, there are:

miroir-noir-fantastic

I’m not kidding, either.  My face is so melted right now.  Thankfully melted face is all the rage in Milan right now; I’m always glad to find myself accidentally au currant with the latest trends.  But enough with these caffeine-and-enthusiasm-fueled digressions!  

ANYWAYS, I’ll fully admit that you probably need to be a fan of the Arcade Fire for the movie to be a pleasurable viewing; otherwise, you may find yourself unimpressed with a 70-minute experimental documentary that shirks traditional narrative forms in favorite of embraces an audio-visual atmosphere that quite brilliantly captures the mood and thrills of both Neon Bible and the live tour that followed.  The audio mix variously juggles songs in their final form on the album, in early stages of production, or in the raw form of a live performance; it’s a rather psychedelic effect, but in all the best ways possible.  

Chronology of imagery is ignored in favor of building towards an emotional climax.  Without any context to the space and time of where the raw footage is coming from, Miroir Noir abandons the notion of documentary as a specific historical narrative.   Alternating between the epic spirit of their shows and the intimate moments of building their album, Miroir Noir is a love letter to the creative impulse, both a document of and a tone poem devoted to the affective power of music.  

Don’t worry, though.  There are also playful moments, like this one:

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The Cougar Really Does Make Dreams Come True
April 16, 2009

cougar-watch-now1

Did you see The Cougar last night?  If you didn’t, you honestly missed out on something truly magical in the realm of trashy, reality television.  It turns out that this show wasn’t a bad idea; it’s the best idea!  There were so many trains in this colossal train wreck that it’s difficult to know where to begin.

There was, for starters, the Vivica A. Fox train wreck.  She’s actually pretty likable as a hostess, and you feel kinda bad for seeing her have to sink so low for a paycheck.  That said, though, I’ve never seen a forehead been more botoxed in my entire life.  It really.  Doesn’t.  Move.  I guess that means the train wreck is actually Vivica A. Fox’s forehead, but still, yikes!

Then you have their version of the rose ceremony, which is called “the kiss off.”  She literally kisses contestants on the lips if they stay or the cheek if they’re out.  Trust me, it’s far more sexy than it sounds, particularly when she’s clearly making barf faces while kissing some of the 15 guys she had to keep on the show past this first elimination.  Oh the things a cougar must do in the quest for true love (of sex with men nearly half your age).

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Thank Goodness There’s a Three-Week Gossip Girl Sabbatical Now
March 31, 2009

It’ll be a nice opportunity to grow back some of the soul that the past three weeks of this nuclear-grade disaster-bomb have destroyed.  I really hope that Gossip Girl isn’t practicing a scorched earth policy with their soul-killing descent into unrepentant atrociousness, ‘cos seriously, y’all:

gginbedawful1

Given that recapping last night’s Gossip Girl constitutes forcing yourself into a state of post-traumatic stress, I’m going to try to keep this brief.  Hopefully I won’t blackout in a fit of rage before I’m finished writing this damn thing.  Anyways.

In last night’s main plot, the Humphreys and the van der Woodsens decide to team up and throw Jenny a high-society sweet sixteen party.  Jenny’s makes sad racoon eyes because she wants a smaller party because everybody hates her.  Don’t worry, little J, I don’t hate you.  I just hate your outfits.  Everybody does hate her, though, so Serena thinks she’s losing her social edge because Jenny’s birthday is actually about Serena.  Duh.  I hate how I always forget that your birthday is always about somebody else.

Serena secretly starts up the party again and invites her socialite friend/human-shaped-mass-of-awful-with-a-wretched-haircut-and-foul-bangs, Poppy, so everybody at school will thinks she’s cool.  Jenny proves to have a soul as ugly as the dress she wears to her party and invites everyone to the party through Gossip Girl and…oh, let’s just skip to the end.  Really, at this point in the episode, I was wishing I’d baked rat poison or cyanide into my shepherd’s pie so I could end the dreadful suffering.  

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As I’m the Most Relevant of Bloggers, I Just Saw Coraline
March 20, 2009

Coraline was released into theaters on February 6th.  Based on my calculations, I’m right on time to catching this at the height of its buzz in the cultural zeitgeist.  But this post isn’t about blogger relevancy 101, this blog is about seeing Coraline in 3-D.  Trust me, y’all: Coraline is dazzling stuff.  For once, there’s proof in the Hollywood-poster pudding:

indeedcoraline

That pretty much sums up the experience of seeing Coraline.  “Oh. My. God.”  Or maybe “Crimminy crap, that’s stunning.”  Take your pick.  The entire aesthetic experience of the film, from the whimsical music to the fantasia of candy-colored images unafraid to get drenched in shadows, makes for a truly remarkable 100 minutes.

In case you needed a refresher on the plot (and just how fabulous those visuals are), here’s the trailer:

That’s pretty much the plot: Girl finds door to spectacular other world only to discover that it’s much more deceptive than it first seems.  I would have embedded the online-only trailer, as it gives you a much better sense of just  how surreal and dark the movie’s visuals and tone can be, but the great pleasure in seeing Coraline is that dizzying sense of discovery.  As such, here’s a link should you want to make sure it’s within your range of acceptable weirdness, but know ahead that it takes away more than a little of the fun to be had.

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When Life Gives You Last Night’s Gossip Girl, Make Dancing-Lady-ade
March 17, 2009

To wash the bile-tastic taste of last night’s Gossip Girl, my friend Brynn and I decided to turn to someone we knew we can always trust to entertain and delight, even in our darkest of ours.  That special someone is Joan Crawford, and last night, she was our Dancing Lady.  

We watched the ending because I’d completely passed out the previous time we attempted to watch it late one night (a belly full of pot roast and a few Joan Crawfords will do that to you, so don’t judge me!).

Dancing Lady is a 1933 musical starring Joan Crawford and Clark Gable (who, by the by, is ridicu-handsome in his youth).  I’d bother and try to explain the plot, but the plot is paper-thin, and Dancing Lady is really just an excuse to let the sparks fly between Crawford and Gable (their scene at the gym is a hysterical and sexy in the same breath) while uber-producer of the era, David O. Selznick, tries his best to recreate the magic of the Busby Berkeley musicals.  Oh, and the Three Stooges are in it.  And Fred Astaire makes his screen debut in it.  Here’s just a taste of the singing, dancing madness:

They dance on a magic carpet before landing in Bavaria to sing the joys of German beer?  It’s both obvious and logical to ask, “What in the hell?”, but I prefer to simply ask, “Why the hell not?”  Trust me, it’ll ease you into the total explosion of insanity that is the finale:

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With Friends Like Last Night’s Gossip Girl, Who Wants a Return From Hiatus?
March 17, 2009

Did you see the highly anticipated (for me) return of the trashtastic Gossip Girl?  If you did, well, I’m sorry.  So, so sorry.  Let’s go back to happier times, when Blair and Chuck were literally destroying the episode’s film stock with their fiery passion, and the print campaigns for the show had parents decrying both show and campaign alike as obscenity.  Oh wait, I can’t, ‘cos seriously:

ofmgabysmal

I recognize that I’m frequently given to hyperbole; I suspect that a predilection towards hyperbole is part of my homo-DNA, but I’m not a geneticist.  I am a Gossip Girl fan (also most likely related to the gay gene), though, and I can most certainly say that last night’s episode of Gossip Girl was wretched.  Perhaps some of the worst television I’ve ever seen.  Seriously, this is the episode written by that pretentious asshole that sat behind you in high school English, spicing up their conversation with name-dropping and pseudo-intellectual ruminations about “art” that nobody asked for.  

And I most definitely did not ask for this, Gossip Girl.

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The Deluxe Edition of It’s Blitz! is All Kinds of Wonderful
March 12, 2009

Sweet corn-on-the-cob with two slabs of butter, y’all.  The new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, It’s Blitz!, is all kinds of delicious.  Take the lead single, “Zero,” for example:

The whole album is just as strong.  Even as tempos change (“Skeletons” is practically ambient in its mood, and closing ballad “Little Shadows” elegantly burns with its organs and distorted guitars) and styles shift about (“Dull Life” and “Shame and Fortune” recall the punkish howl of Fever to Tell, while “Dragon Lady” grooves like Diana Ross in Studio 54), the instrumentation and production remain gloriously inspired; added to that, Karen O’s voice is just something else entirely, a potent alchemy of rocker grrrl swaggering bravado and pained beauty.  It’s Blitz! is simply glorious.  Seriously, y’all:

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Having Now Seen Watchmen I Can Attest That I’ve No Idea What I’ve Seen
March 10, 2009

Well, Watchmen came out this weekend, and so we can now safely say that Billy Crudup’s CGI-enhanced blue full monty and Malin Akerman’s inimitable understanding of “acting” (apparently a mixture of reciting lines like English is your second language and posing like a crime-fighting tranny robot) have safely entered the pop-culture vernacular.  I’m not entirely certain either, particularly the latter, opens any useful conversations in our cultural discourse, but at least we’ve expanded our vocabulary, y’all!  And to paraphrase the great beacon of 20th century philosophical genius, Nomi Malone, Watchmen doesn’t suck, so I’ll freely admit it:

watchmen-review

Let’s clarify, though, in that I said “not too bad.”  I neglected to use words like “exceptional” or “awesome” or even (most disappointingly to me) “campalicious.”  I’ve also neglected to utilize phrases like “tonally consistent” or “narratively coherent in any way that resembles a movie” because Watchmen is completely lacking in any of those qualities.  Hell, Watchmen doesn’t even qualify as a movie so much as an explosion of adolescent id and existential angst moving on screen at 24-frames-per-second.

Yes, there are scenes, and when taken in the order presented in the film, these scenes seem to resemble a plot.  The problem, though, is that each scene is so hyperbolically extreme in style and, when compared to scenes before and afterward, contradictory in terms of emotion and feel, that the resulting product feels schizophrenic and unhinged.  Snyder dials the violence up to 11 (arms are graphically sawn off with hacksaws and punches are capable of causing compound fractures) and the sex up to ridiculous (the howlingly bad sex scene between Ackerman and Patrick Wilson is Cinemax-grade soft-core porn with a Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” providing the soundtrack and a firing of the flame-thrower on Night Owl’s jet to signal their climax; all parties involved should be thoroughly shamed for that one), yet there are also unexpected moments of beauty in this behemoth.    

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U2 NLOTH Haiku Review: “Cedars of Lebanon”
March 3, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

Aaaaaaaand we’re finally here.  At the end.  Turns out that my sore sinuses from the other day ended up being the first tremors of a bona-fide  sickquake.  Thankfully a little homemade chicken soup and a healthy dose bed-rest have got me back on my blogging feet (minus a scratchy throat, but thankfully I blog with my fingers, so no harm and no foul, I figure), but I digress.  We’re here to talk haiku reviews, not my old-maid tricks to getting over a winter-weather cold.  So FOCUS, people!  We’ve finally made it to the finish line of gonzo endeavor.  So dust off your mourning veils and get the kindling for your funeral pyres; this is the end of a (week-and-a-half-long) era:

cedars-haiku1

I suppose, as much as this is an end, we can always put the album on repeat (something I’ve already been plenty guilty of and shall continue to just get guiltier), so there’s no need for tears (well, except for the fact that you’ve just listen to “Cedars of Lebanon,” which is a one-way ticket to frowns-ville, population you and me). 

So there you have it.  Every song off No Line on the Horizon reviewed in haiku.  I’m sure this experience was deeply illuminating and informative in a 5-syllable/7-syllable/5-syllable sort of way.  Or perhaps they’ve inspired you to put me on blog-block.  For eternity.  

Either way, you’re welcome.

U2 NLOTH Haiku Review: “Breathe”
March 1, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

Let’s file this under bitter irony: my sinuses decide to turn on me the day “Breathe” comes up in this little endeavor.  Woof.  Admittedly, I’m not a cloggy mess, but my sinuses are all dried out and burny.  It’s better than being a mucous machine  (too much information?  nonsense, we’re close at this point, so deal!), but still, it hurts to…wait for it…breathe.  Harharhar!

breathe-haiku

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, it’s time for me to find my neti pot.  I’m glad I got to share with you my sinus status and another haiku, my dears.  Tomorrow, the grand finale: “Cedars of Lebanon”!

As always, you can stream No Line on the Horizon on U2’s Myspace, so you can hear of which I haiku.

U2 NLOTH Haiku Review: “White as Snow”
February 28, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

Given how joyfully upbeat the bulk of No Line on the Horizon is, “White as Snow” is kinda like an unexpected sadness kick to the face.  It’s ethereal and quite lovely, but it’s bound to give you a case of the frowns.  Grab your Prozac and take it to your happy place, y’all, ‘cos here we go:

was-haiku

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d best be off to the set of the video for “Laid” with my bag full of Heath bars.  I’ll be back tomorrow with “Breathe.”

As always, you can stream No Line on the Horizon on U2’s Myspace, so you can hear of which I haiku.

U2 NLOTH Haiku Review: “Fez–Being Born”
February 27, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

So, until earlier today, I didn’t know what the lyrics were to “Fez–Being Born.”  So I looked them up.

BAD IDEA!

I’ll admit that it’s a personal thing, but I find the physical act of birth completely horrific.  Yes, the birth of a life is a beautiful thing; and no, this is not about some homo-based fear of lady parts.  I’ve heard too many stories of what can happen to women during the act of birth to think it could ever be pleasant.  And I’ve also seen Romance, which is a fascinating exploration and dissection of female sexuality that ends with a bona-fide child birth, which simply visualizes my previous assumption.  Understanding the lyrics to this song is, in a certain way then, kinda like having a relapse with post-traumatic stress syndrome.

fez-haiku

That all being said, I still love the song.  I’ll just pretend that I still don’t understand the lyrics so as to not drop to the floor of a subway train in apoplectic shock when I hit the second verse.  In such a scenario, everybody wins.

‘Til then, I won’t even talk numbers.  This album is almost over 😦  Next up is “White as Snow.”

As always, you can stream No Line on the Horizon on U2’s Myspace, so you can hear of which I haiku.

U2 NLOTH Haiku Review: “Stand Up Comedy”
February 26, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

As we enter the seventh (almost) consecutive day in this little blogging experiment, I’m beginning to think I’m losing my mind.  I cannot stop thinking about greasy fast food.  At all.  The greasier, the better.  I keep thinking about the goopy, melted cheese in the Cosi tuna melt and the perfect pickles in the McDonald’s double-cheeseburger.  And then there’s the Chick-fil-A chicken biscuit, that little piece of heaven you can eat.  I need a  grease fix so bad that I could just drink a cup of gravy right now!  Is this what overexposure to haiku does to you?  I mean, look at how bad this has gotten:

stand-up-haiku

Obviously too much haiku makes you pregnant, ‘cos I’ve got a craving that is OUT OF CONTROL.  I just hope it’s not twins.

Tomorrow we move on to “Fez-Being Born.”  Four more to go, y’all!

As always, you can stream No Line on the Horizon on U2’s Myspace, so you can hear of which I haiku.

U2 “NLOTH” Haiku Review: “Get On Your Boots”
February 25, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

A sad day has come upon us!  I’m over halfway done with this little exercise insanity/tedium.  Before you know it, the whole album will be reviewed and there won’t be any more haikus (show some respect and try not to look so damn happy!).  Shall I stop now (please?) so we never have to face the inevitable?  No?  Fine!  Get your hankies ready because the end is now in sight:

goyb-haiku

Le sadness.  Only five more left.  Next up is “Stand Up Comedy.”

As always, you can stream No Line on the Horizon on U2’s Myspace, so you can hear of which I haiku.

U2 NLOTH Haiku Review: “I’ll Go Crazy if I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight”
February 24, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

I don’t know if it’s the fact that I got more than four hours of sleep last night, or maybe the fact that I got to write about Showgirls earlier today (it’s probably the latter, not the former; thinking about 10 seconds of Showgirls for me is twenty minutes of kitten videos on Youtube for grandmas: it’s a happy place), but I’m in a much better mood than yesterday.  It seems as though the gay-man-equivalent of catnip (aka, Showgirls) has rendered Cranky McCrankerson docile and content.  Thaaank goodness.  

So, yeah, let’s drop this new haiku like Nomi dropped her crack addiction:

crazy-haiku

Almost halfway done!  Hot toddy!  Next up is “Get On Your Boots.”

As always, you can stream No Line on the Horizon on U2’s Myspace, so you can hear of which I haiku.

U2 NLOTH Haiku Review: “Unknown Caller”
February 23, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep (because Oscar parties in Washington Heights when you have to still travel back home to Brooklyn will do that to you) or what, but these damn haikus are wearing me out.  Curses to my blog promise!  Ugh.  Let’s get this done with:

u-c-haiku

Whatever.  I’m clearly Blogster the Grouch right now.  Let’s all go to bed.  G’night.

Tomorrow is “I’ll Go Crazy if I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight.”

As always, you can stream No Line on the Horizon on U2’s Myspace, so you can hear of which I haiku.

U2 NLOTH Haiku Review: “Moment of Surrender”
February 23, 2009

Benjamin made a promise to review every track off No Line on the Horizon, one a day, leading up to the official release on March 3.  Whoopsies!  Unfortunately, he can’t write about music for a damn as he studied film; it’s all “chiming Edge guitar” this and “propulsive rhythm by Larry and Adam” that, blah blah BLECH.  Instead, he’s embraced the new-found experimentation that U2 has clearly found: why review when you can haiku?  So put on your crazy boots, ‘cos here comes the next round:

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I’m still playing catch-up with this foolish project.  So sue me.  The Oscars were yesterday, which meant I had to spend my day making banana nut muffins and doing oodles of laundry.  Seriously, my room was mere days away from warranting hazmat suits for guests.  Don’t believe me?  This is my room:

swamp-room2

Well, minus Swamp Thing and Heather Locklear.  My room simply isn’t lucky enough to house the cast of the 80s-camp goodness that is The Return of Swamp Thing.  Then again, is any room that lucky?  No, I think not.

But I digress.

Here’s the next installment of our haiku review.  If it were 2008, I’d make some timely joke about drinking it up like a milkshake, because Daniel Day Lewis was winning at the Oscars  for There Will Be Blood.  Alas, better (a year) late than never.  So drink it up!  Drink up the haiku-shake:

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