Tag: Music

Trisha’s Take: Le Concert review

Le Concert

Directed by Radu Mihăileanu
Starring Aleksei Guskov, Mélanie Laurent, Dmitri Nazarov, Miou-Miou and more

On Midsummer Eve, I was walking through a park in Brooklyn with some friends on our way to get some artisanal ice cream. As we neared the park’s exit, the unmistakable sound of a piano wafted towards us in the summer air.

There at the crux of two paths stood an upright piano, and a bushy-haired hipster was coaxing out a very familiar classical tune. No, not Für Elise or the Moonlight Sonata, but Chopin’s Nocturne in E flat (or Op.9 No.2 for the musical geeks). A crowd had formed, and everyone applauded with verve as the final notes died away, the pianist acknowledging the applause briefly before melting back into the crowd. A friend who was visiting from L.A. said later that it had been the fourth time that day he had encountered spontaneous music that day coming from people who weren’t busking.

It’s that idea of making music for the pure joy of making music or the beauty of it that permeates every frame within Le Concert, and I’m afraid that if you don’t understand that, you’re definitely not going to understand or like this movie.

This isn’t to say that only classical music geeks will understand or like this movie. I loved this, and as I’ve mentioned before, the only musical training I’ve ever had is a few 300-level courses as my commuter university over a decade ago. I will say, though, that having maybe just a bit of that knowledge in your background somewhere will definitely help.

Our protagonist is Andreï Filipov (Aleksei Guskov), a former conductor for the Bolshoi Ballet’s orchestra whom after a very humiliating experience at the hands of a Communist Party leader, is forced to endure work as its janitor 30 years later. However, after shamelessly prying into his boss’ fax communications, he gets the wild idea to gather up his old musicians to play one last hurrah at the Théâtre du Châtelet along side a French virtuoso named Anne-Marie Jacquet (Mélanie Laurent, who was last seen as Shoshanna in Inglorious Basterds) with whom he shares a mysterious connection.

There are several things this movie gets right. As a heist film—because they’re stealing the concert away from the real Bolshoi Orchestra—it works because you get to watch the formation of the team and learn what quirky talents they’ll bring to the endeavor. As a music film, it works because there are some scenes here and there where it’s just all about the philosophy behind the art of music. Guskov is so believable in his love of the art that it’s hard not to stand up and shout, “Yes, yes!” as he gives this unforgettable monologue before the climax of the movie. Also, kudos to Guskov and Laurent for all of the non-verbal acting they had to do while the central mystery was revealed in a montage/monologue with a Tchaikovsky concerto playing in the background. Sadly, I’m not musically geeky enough to tell you whether or not any of the music in the climactic scene is any good, but it’s my hope that it is.

As a French farcical comedy, it works because of fantastic performances by the supporting cast, especially Dmitri Nazarov as the the put-upon best friend, Valeriy Barinov as their former manager (who incidentally was the one who doled out the humiliation), and Anna Kamenkova as Andrei’s wife, a crowd-wrangler who gets paid to bring people to political rallies, weddings, and funerals. Special recognition goes to Kamenkova and Guskov for portraying such a wonderful loving married couple as well. Also, as long as I’m handing out kudos, I have to give several to Romanian writer/director Radu Mihaileanu who along with screenwriters Alain-Michel Blanc and Matthew Robbins and original story writers Thierry Degrandi and Hector Cabello Reyes crafted an engaging plot that definitely had its fair share of twists and unexpected turns.

If there are any areas where I did feel uncomfortable about the movie, it was during the scenes where two of the people in the trumpet section skip out on rehearsal to try and make some extra money selling Russian caviar to French bistro chefs. Yes, they’re Jewish and trying to make a buck. Also, there are a few scenes which take place in Gypsy camps where the stereotypes of them being completely uncouth and unethical get played out, mostly for laughs. I’m not sure how to feel about those scenes, though, as two of Mihailenau’s previous films have dealt with an Ethiopian boy who gets sent to Israel as a Jew by his mother in the search for a better life (Live and Become) and the attempt by a group of Jews in a French village to escape a coming Nazi invasion (Train of Life), and it’s not my place to say if it’s prejudicial because I am neither Jewish or a Gypsy. (If it helps, both movies were well reviewed.)

For all their efforts, Le Concert picked up a Cesar Award in 2010 for Best Sound and Armand Amar picked one up for Best Music Written for a Film, which says to me that the committee in charge of submitting French films for Academy Awards consideration won’t be putting it’s hat into the ring with the more acclaimed A Prophet winning all the awards. Still, if you’re in the mood for a movie about music that’s less sappy than August Rush, you really ought to buy a ticket for Le Concert.

Unrated at the time of this publication, Le Concert is going into limited release in the U.S. on July 23, courtesy of the people at The Weinstein Company always wants to remind you that they’re the guys who unleashed Quentin Tarantino and Kevin Smith onto the world, dammit, which means we really know our movies—now would someone help us get out of debt, please?

Trisha’s Take: Open on Sunday review

Open on Sunday

Performed by Paula Carino (vocals, rhythm guitar), Ross Bonadonna (lead guitar, backing vocals), Andy Mattina (bass), Tom Pope (drums)

I’ve spoken at length about how I don’t have the most expansive of musical educations. Sure, I can natter on at length about early female classical composers, but that’s mostly a product of a 300-level Music course I took over decade ago because it satisfied a prerequisite and a university honors slot at the same time.

However, ever since I learned that I inherited my ability to carry a note from my mom and my ability to feel a rhythm from my dad, I’ve loved listening to music and finding those songs which I could sing and dance along with.

And I have the Internet to thank for my most recent find.

It all started when I was browsing Kickstarter.com, a website which gives creative people a little nudge towards helping them fulfill their dreams by making it easy for them to find backers (or angels, as they call them in the theater business).

It was how my former editor Gordon McAlpin was able to raise the funds necessary to leave a full-time job for a few months to finish the art and pages necessary for the completion of the first Multiplex print book.

After I pledged to McAlpin’s project back in October 2009, I started clicking around the site to see what other endeavors there were to be funded and found a project for a former co-worker and singer-songwriter named Paula Carino who wanted to create a physical CD to go along with the digital release of her newest album Open on Sunday.

When I worked with her for over three years at a now-defunct media database company, I knew she was a musician and I knew that she gave concerts every now and then, but I never went to see any of her performances. We’re connected on Facebook now, but it’s just not the same as seeing a person every day to remind someone of their hobbies and talents.

However, I liked her and I thought, “What the hell? It’s $10 bucks, I’m helping someone I like, and I get new music. Why not support her?”

When I finally received my CD, it lay unopened in a desk drawer at work for a very long time and then migrated to my apartment where it lay unopened in my backpack for another long period of time. Finally one weekend, I decided to open it up, pop it into my computer so that I could import it into my iTunes library, and give it a good long listen.

Upon the first notes of “(Mother I Must Go to) Maxwell’s,” I was immediately struck by how bouncy and catchy it was and how strong the narrative was within the song. Carino’s tale of a young impressionable person (I’m assuming it’s a girl because of the repeated pleas to “mother,” but I could be wrong) who wants to break free of his/her suburban life to be free is something that everyone can relate to, even if they never do such a thing in their real life.

As I continued playing the album in order—and then after tranferring it to my iPod, several times on “shuffle”—I decided that I really liked Carino’s work. I’m not going to go through the entire album song by song, but suffice to say that this is one of the few albums where I can say I like every song on it; here are my favorites in addition to “Maxwell’s”:

  • “Sensitive Skin”: The rhythm behind the opening notes remind me so much of a Latin salsa, even if the narrative in front of it is not. It’s rare to have “indie girl rock” music that you can salsa to, and I really appreciate it.
  • “With the Bathwater”: I didn’t like this song at first because the speaker sounded so wishy-washy in dealing with her breakup:

    Cuz I can’t take the bad with the good
    And I can’t love you like I oughta
    So I’m throwing my baby out
    With the bathwater

    (It also makes me wonder if Carino wrote the song as a musical foil to No Doubt’s “Bathwater,” but I’m sure that’s something she can answer if she chooses to read this review.)

    But I immediately twigged onto how clever that chorus was in switching up the expectation of rhyming “good” with a word like “should” and the longer I listened to it, the more I realized that even if I didn’t like the narrative, the lyrics were extremely clever and unexpected. It’s one of those good “sing-along” songs where you find yourself humming it when you wake up in the morning.

  • “Foxhound”: Whenever I hear this song, I think of underground car races for some reason. I have no idea why. I’m also curious as to exactly who this “foxhound” is supposed to be, and if it (or he) is related to Elvis’ and Willie Mae Thornton’s “hounddog.”
  • “Sir You Have No Bucket”: The reason I liked this song at first is a little juvenile because the title reminded me of the “I haz a bukkit” meme.Yes, I can be such a child sometimes.And yet, when I really took a look at the lyrics, what really stood out to me is that (I think) the song is about the New Testament parable of the Samaritan woman by the well:

    Sir, you have no bucket and this well is deep
    And still you ask me for water.
    Questioning the company that I keep
    And leading the witness to slaughter.

    and

    But I know a spring that never runs out
    And flows through everything.
    You are a spring that never runs out
    And flows through everything.

    All of a sudden, my mind is blown because something I’ve been chair-dancing and/or head-bopping along to on the subway is a condensation of a story of forgiveness.

    Isn’t reading and listening comprehension great? It also doesn’t hurt my theory that the song right after “Bucket” is called “Road to Hell.”

If I have complaints about Carino’s album it’s that sometimes it’s hard to understand her lyrics because she elides and slurs some words, but I wonder if that’s just a personal problem because I have difficulty understanding most sung (or rapped) lyrics if I’ve never heard or read the song before.

Other than that, I completely and enthusiastically recommend Paula Carino’s work to anyone who likes Dar Williams, Beth Sorrentino, or Deborah Conway.

Paula Carino’s Open on Sunday can be found at the iTunes store or at CDBaby and yes, she has a bucket.