Many people would argue that Samuel L. Jackson’s turn in Quentin Tarantino’s “Pulp Fiction” was his breakout role. I would argue it came 3 years earlier in Spike Lee’s “Jungle Fever” playing Wesley Snipe’s crackhead brother Gator. Jackson’s performance was BEYOND f–king intense and earned an unprecedented Best Supporting Actor nod at the 1991 Cannes Film Festival. “Jungle Fever” is flawed (Spike Lee’s subsequent films “Malcolm X, “Get on the Bus,” “Summer of Sam,” “Bamboozled,” and “The 25th Hour” are arguably much better), but it has a lot of terrific virtues. This scene never fails to put a chill up my spine.
One of my favorite comedy bits of all time. Dan Brown be damned … Sam Kinison explains why Jesus was never married. Funny and profane in equal measures, but if you really think about it, Kinison was actually a true believer, f-bombs and all.
At some point, I’m going to write an essay on Robert Altman’s classic 1970 film “M*A*S*H” and how much this movie has meant to me over the years. It’s a film that seems even more shocking and subversive these days than it did when it first came out over 40 years ago. But the story behind the theme song “Suicide is Painless” is so damn interesting, it demands its own essay. Most people know the melody, as it played over the opening and closing credits of the TV show. But for those people who don’t know that the movie exists are usually genuinely shocked to hear that the theme actually has lyrics. Marilyn Manson once said that this is the most depressing song ever written. The lyrics are pretty despairing … but director Robert Altman would’ve probably said “Are you f–king kidding me?!?” to such sentiments.
The following story below is a summary of several anecdotes related in the positively amazing oral history / biography of director Robert Altman “Robert Altman: The Oral Biography” by Mitchell Zuckoff. (What?!? You don’t have a copy of this amazing book ?!?)
The impetus for writing the song came from a scene in the middle of the film where a dentist character, a legendary cocksman of the medical unit, finds himself impotent when he hooks up with a woman and concludes that he’s gay. As a result, he wants to commit suicide. His friends think this is utterly ridiculous and treat the dentist’s desire to kill himself with absurd humor. They hold a “last supper” that’s framed in the same way as Leonardo Da Vinci’s famous painting. Altman thought there was too much “dead air” in the scene and that it needed a song. Per Altman, “It’s got to be the stupidest song ever written.” The composer, Johnny Mandel, said “Well, we can do stupid.” Altman said “There’s too much stuff in this 45-year old brain of mine. I can’t get anything nearly as stupid as I need. But all is not lost. I have this kid who is a total idiot. He’ll run through this thing like a dose of salts.” Altman’s son Michael (who was reportedly 14 years old at the time) was asked by his father to write the lyrics and he wrote the lyrics in approximately 10 minutes. Altman’s son wrote some chords … Mandel added some others … and the song was a done deal.
For Michael’s trouble, he was paid $500 and 50% of the song. A few years after the movie came out, the TV series “M*A*S*H” came out and he got a check for $26. Then he received a second check for $130. And then the show went into syndication and Michael received a check for $26,000. And after all was said and done, Michael earned $2 million over the years for writing an allegedly really stupid song in just 10 minutes. To put this into perspective, his father Robert only received $75,000 for directing the movie … with no royalties or profits. Keep in mind that the movie “M*A*S*H” is considered one of the greatest film comedies ever made, was ranked #54 in the American Film Institute’s poll of the greatest American films ever made, was deemed “culturally significant” by the Library of Congress and was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry,won the Palme D’Or at that year’s Cannes Film Festival, was nominated for Best Picture and Best Director Oscars, and grossed the equivalent of $475 million in 2013 dollars.
Michael admitted that he squandered most of the money, failed to pay taxes because he was young and not money savvy, and then got into a lot of trouble with the IRS. Eventually, Michael had to declare bankruptcy and his father Robert bought the song for $30,000. So his father (and his estate) wound up with future royalties after the fact.
After several years, Michael admitted that he blames himself entirely for what happened and while that he’s written other songs, no others have been recorded or released. He advised by his standards, he never liked the song or was that impressed with it.
If you follow Dave Strange World, you’ve already heard the story about geeky grunge neighbor circa 1996 who liked to play what sounded like “Ted Bundy and Hitchhiker” with his goth girlfriend at all hours of the night … the the point where I had to drown them out with Sonic Youth’s “Daydream Nation” in another room in order to sleep. If you haven’t, then here’s the link:
But that’s not the only story about bizarre and annoying neighbors from that year. Upstairs from me were a group of other memorable neighbors …
There was what (I think) were a group of girls that were probably not college students, but likely had just graduated from high school. They were hideously unattractive, always wore jeans and tie-dyed shirts, and were always running up and down the balcony of the apartment complex laughing loudly and hysterically. I called them “The Manson Girls” because they always had that scary “laughing to disarm you because I’m about ready to stab you to death and write on the wall with your blood” type of air about them. One night, I saw them with multiple road signs (obviously stolen), screaming and laughing and running to their apartment upstairs. Another night … notably the first night I cooked dinner for my now wife of 15+ years … I had my windows open, because it was a very warm night and I had trouble opening a bottle of wine. The cork exploded loudly and then the “Manson Girls” came bursting into my apartment … giggling manically, as if they were joining a massive party already in progress … and begging me for money. Flabbergasted, I told them “F–K NO!” and to “Get the f–k out of my apartment!” Later, I felt self-conscious, and asked my future wife if I was too d–kish in my reaction (it was our 5th date, after all), but I seriously felt violated by these crazy people. I never had any interaction with them again … but later that summer, the lighbulb outside of my apartment was stolen. I’m not pointing fingers, but I place the blame on this with the Manson Girls. Seriously, a freakin’ lightbulb was 89 cents in 1996 dollars … and these future “guests of the state” I’m positive stole my light bulb.
There are many comedians with jaw-dropping Sam Kinison stories. And, trust me, ALL of these stories are jaw-dropping, because Sam, let’s be honest, was a total f–king maniac. But this story by Ralphie May is particularly funny, especially because he was only 17 at the time. This is one of my favorite stand-up crash-and-burn stories of all time. God bless Sam … and God bless Ralphie May, for that matter. Ralphie May has edged out a VERY VERY funny stand-up career in the years since.
This is the (in)famous live version of Van Morrison’s “Cyprus Avenue” from the concert that was recorded for the legendary “It’s Too Late to Stop Now” live album in 1974.
The original “Cyprus Avenue” from 1967’s “Astral Weeks” was a beautiful and wounded song about a man desperately in love with someone, but who can’t express himself to tell this person he loves her. The problem, you see, is that he’s a grown man and the person he’s in love with is a very, very young girl. And he’s “conquered in a car seat,” staring at her walking to school … Mmmkay … Despite the creepy subject matter, this is a great song, but I can’t say that it doesn’t also turn my stomach a bit. It’s a good thing Perverted Justice and Chris Hanson from Dateline NBC were not around in 1967 for Van’s sake.
Anyway, let’s cut to 1973 … Van is performing this song live. But Van is in full James Brown mode. And holy … f–king … s–t … does he give this solemn, sad song the full James Brown treatment! And it is one of the most amazing musical performances I’ve ever seen. Many people seem to only know the Van Morrison of “Moondance” and the corny “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?” phase of his career. But they forget that Van started out in the Irish garage punk band Them … or that the first version of “Madame George” (a sad song about an aging transvestite, also recorded for “Astral Weeks”) was originally a raunchy, nasty punk blues stomp recorded for the album “T.B. Sheets.” Believe it or not, before he became the Irish mystic troubadour, Van used to kick out the f–king jams. And this legendary performance of “Cyprus Avenue” proves it.
One of the most pleasant acting surprises of the last several years was Sir Ben Kingsley’s turn as psychotic gangster Don Logan in Jonathan Glazer’s brilliant British gangster film “Sexy Beast.” Who would have thought that Kingsley, the master of playing sedate, thoughtful, mature characters would let his freak flag fly so blatantly … and excessively? Seriously, in a battle between Kingsley’s “Don Logan” and Jo Pesci’s “Tommy” in “Goodfellas,” I might give the edge to Kingsley. Maybe the bald pate makes him look more intense, but Kingsley looks like a rabid f–king dog in “Sexy Beast.” As much as I love Jim Broadbent, Kingsley DESERVED that freakin’ Oscar in 2001 for “Sexy Beast.” Or at the very least, Broadbent should have offered it to him. Because the f–king insane rage Kingsley brought to that part comes from somewhere. And I wouldn’t want to cross him in a dark alley.
This is one of the many moving scenes from P.T. Anderson’s magnificent 1999 film “Magnolia.” This is the first date between John C. Reilly’s decent police officer character Jim and Melora Walters’ troubled Claudia character. This event occurs about 2/3 of the way into the film. Jim is a very good, compassionate man who feels tremendous guilt over losing his gun on the job. Claudia is a promiscuous drug addict trying to blot out an abusive childhood. On the grand scale of things, Jim’s troubles are far less severe than Claudia’s … but somehow, they seem to be meeting at the right time in the right place in their lives. Nobody in their right mind would EVER have a first date like this … but as we all know … if we’re lucky … we know that life is strange. And sometimes fate compels you to act in ways that you otherwise wouldn’t … because you have a strange hunch that the person you happened to just meet and sitting across from could potentially change your life for the better. Granted, a lot of people choose this path and wind up with someone who is a complete disaster. But sometimes it goes the other way, too.
This scene always brings a lump to my throat and is one of the best scenes in a film that I consider one of the best of the 1990s.
A lot of people … especially a lot of creative and/or famous types … characterize their teen years as the most painful, horrific time in their lives. I understand this to a certain extent, because it gives their life story a cinematic “Rocky”-esque sense of triumph for whatever success they’ve eked out. But this wasn’t my experience. My teen years weren’t a bed of roses, but they weren’t terrible either. I wasn’t “popular” per se, but I wasn’t unpopular. I wasn’t an object of lust, but I remember a few not unattractive girls giving me hints that they may have liked me-liked me (the fact that I didn’t figure this out until years later is the tragic part of that story). Some people were d–ks to me on occasion, but overall, I wasn’t picked on or harassed. I had friends in different cliques and while I wasn’t a part of any of them, I didn’t feel like I was crashing any party by associating with them. My high school experience was about as average (and as healthy) as one could expect.
My early 20s were a different story. They didn’t completely suck, but my early 20s were, for the most part, a really f–king painful and horrible time. I think one’s 20s are arguably different than one’s teen years. Because when you’re a teenager, as much as things suck, you have a great sense of hope. You haven’t made any mistakes yet. You have the safety net of your parents, friends, hometown, etc. There’s a lot of potential that hasn’t been tapped or realized. In your teens, nothing is expected of you, other than to make decent grades, not get into too much trouble, and to be on a path to eventually become a productive member of society.
On the other hand, your early 20s (especially your post-college years) are when you actually have to deliver on that stuff. You’re either on your own … struggling to make rent / car / student loan payments and having “relationships” with people who are just as confused and conflicted as you are … or you’re back living at home, trying to do the same thing. Neither scenario is conducive to any sense of self-esteem, though the latter scenario is arguably, worse.
If you’re a guy, unless you’ve got some cool job, you have a cool post-graduate field of study (medicine, law, MBA), or you’re still attached to a college sweetheart, your dating life will suck. Most of the unattached single gals your age are typically dating older guys who have established themselves in some respect (For the young guys who want to feel some misguided, but vaguely misogynistic “revenge” for this scenario, the pyramid does invert when you get older … provided you’ve … well .. established yourself in some capacity. If you’re still living with Mom at age 33, let’s just say that you’re going to have to work a bit harder to be considered a “chick magnet”). To be entirely honest and fair about my post-collegiate drought, I can’t say that I was much of a catch in those days. Now that I’m in my more world-weary early 40s, I can say with confidence that most guys in their early 20s are more than a little douchey.
Anyway, the entire reason I bring this up is that this song by Green Day, released during the time of my greatest angst circa 1994, just about epitomizes the malaise of the first half of my early 20s. I’m also curious if other people feel the same way as I do about their 20s … or if they felt their teenage years sucked more. I don’t think I’m an authority by any means, but I do wonder, especially since so many people feel their teen years are the worst years of their lives.
P.S. The latter half of my 20s went considerably better. But that’s another story.
The second 9-minute plus mini-rock opera featured on Green Day’s 2004 rock opera “American Idiot.” Arguably, given the sound and thematics of this song, this should have been the last song on the album. But perversely, it was the next-to-the-last song on the album. This isn’t as mindblowingly terrific as the other mini-rock opera “Jesus of Suburbia,” but what’s here is still damn impressive. I especially like Tre Cool’s “Rocky Horror Picture Show”-style riff about 5:23 into the song, sung from the perspective of a jaded rock star… with saxophones even … For better or worse, this is a band that truly studied its rock history before composing and recording this album. I’d say it’s for the better. I love the nods to the past while raging on into the future. I love the “American Idiot” album more and more each year.
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