What I Hate About You: Drive

I'm having trouble figuring out how to start this review. Let's do this. Pretend you're in your car. Now slow down..stop...get out and walk...slower....sloooowwwer. This is the pace of this Ryan Gosling vehicle(sorry) that tells the tale of a man known only as Driver, a sometime stunt performer, sometime criminal wheelman. The cast is rounded out by Brian Cranston as Shannon the owner of the garage where Driver works. He wants to steer(sorry) Driver into a NASCAR career. Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman play a couple of low level LA crime bosses from whom Shannon borrows seed money for a race car. Driver becomes involved with a comely neighbor, Irene (played very neatly by Carey Mulligan), And attempts to use his skills to get her family out of a bind. A pretty promising setup, right? Yeah, about that.
Drive is not a bad movie per se. But if you're going to name a movie Drive, If the shot above is the poster, especially in the MTV, Quick Cut, fast and furious climate that is today's pop culture environment, it's imperative that your movie has some...well...DRIVE, frankly. If your main character is named DRIVER, then perhaps he shouldn't spend 1/3 of the movie silently sullenly sitting at a table. That's not an exaggeration. The main character spends more time at tables or staring out windows than committing any other act.
It's frustrating; I believe I know what director Nicholas Winding Refn was going for. Drive wants to be a moody, Michael Mann-esque "Underbelly of L.A." sort of story; something akin to Training Day or Havoc. Unfortunately, that requires a tricky balancing act that Refn just doesn't pull off. It's a challenge, pacing it just so you maintain that mood without downshifting(sorry) to an absolute crawl.
Ryan Gosling is a good actor. You can tell he's working hard to give viewers a vested interest in Driver. He is partially successful in that he made me feel a sense of pity for him. With zero exposition however, that pity is short lived. I ended up saying "Why?" How does someone become that damned disenchanted and disconnected? It takes a very good actor to maintain a character's charisma without a back story. Ryan will most likely accomplish this at some point but did not here. This might also be due to some strange directorial/cinematographic choices. All of the (relatively few) action sequences in the film have some strange mitigating factor that once again leave the viewer with a question he shouldn't have to ask. The aftermath of one such scene features Driver, having just dispatched a couple of assassins, receding out of a doorway and out of frame, almost in slow motion, for no reason, crazed bloody face retreating out of the shot. Next, the screen goes black. Why? Another scene features perhaps the most ridiculously over the top stomp out of a bad guy I've ever seen in any film. It's as if the director tried to concentrate all of the action meant to be spread throughout the film into twenty seconds. Strangely enough, this twenty seconds is preceded by the tenderest of kisses between Driver and Irene.
Stepping away from all of this, the supporting cast was the saving grace for this movie. When It comes to playing an old, weathered bad-ass, Ron Perlman is right up there with Kris Kristofferson and Michael Ironside. Albert Brooks is compelling and believeable as Bernie, a small time old school hood obsessed with protecting his tiny empire because it's all he has. In some places he garners more sympathy for his plight than Driver does. Brian Cranston is next level. His portrayal of the chronically down-on-his-luck Shannon with dreams of making it to the other side of the hill is Drives realest, rawest performance. The bitter coctail of hope laced with desperation informs his every word and motion,*SPOILER AHEAD* and the scene where Bernie puts Shannon out of his misery is shocking in that it manages to be simultaneously that sublime and that brutal and cold. This scene is the unfortunate exception to the rule of questionable Overall pacing though.
When I'm not hating on things, I play bass. One of the things you learn playing that instrument is that the notes you don't play, the SILENCE space is sometimes more important than the ones you do play. This movie is an example of that concept gone wrong. It doesn't groove because in too many places there is too much space between the notes.

Perhaps the problem wasn't with the Movie, but with the marketing of Drive. Admittledly, it did very well on the festival circuit, even earning the best director award at Cannes. The issue is this movie was pushed as something for the gearheads and actionophiles, as if it were a cross between The Transporter and Heat Looked at through to prism of a melancholy thriller, The film serves as a passable showcase for Ryan Gosling and is a decent enough study in tone and mood. Even from this perspective though, it suffers from very strange pacing. The best comparison is Michael Mann's Collateral. It followed a similar formula and trajectory as drive, but the transitions in Collateral are handled much better, from longing silent glances to thoughtful dialogue to poetic shots of L.A. nightscape that slowly but consistently ramp up to the action sequences. The balance of the chemicals in the formula is much better. Watching Ryan Goslings syrupy tone-poem had me wanting to scream SHUT UP AND DRIVE, ALREADY!!!

On the Benefits of acting like a grown-up, even when your heart says no

It would've been so easy. SO EASY, to go south with it. I could've sat in the corner, folded my arms, crossed my legs and said "Fuck this show, fuck Macy Gray fuck that club and FUCK EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM! I admit there was a part of me that wanted to say exactly that. But I didn't. What I did say, and what I did do, and what ended up happening later surprised even me.
Flashback; weeks prior. I look at a text message I just got from Tony. "Mozambique(a club we play often) wants us to open for Macy Gray on June Eleventh. Are you available?" Of course I say yes. A week or so later we're at rehearsal and Tony announces that not only will Upstart be opening for Macy Gray; we'll also be backing her up. As I begin to respond enthusiastically however, Tony hits me with the dreaded "...actually...."
We've all heard that "actually". Always said in just that tone that translates into "Pump the brakes, turbo!" Turns Out Macy is bringing her own bassist. Not her own Keyboardist, not her own guitarist, just her own BASSIST. Elliott's ego, you may now report to the basement.
I went home after rehearsal was over. I moped. I fumed. I paced the floor. I calmed down. I told myself, hey it is what it is; Deal. I told myself(ok, my girlfriend told me) hey if it's good for the band, it's good for you. I dealt. I didn't like it, but I dealt with it.
Monday before the gig. Band rehearsal. We'd been given a list of the tunes Macy would perform and Tony had worked up charts for everyone. As we work on the songs, I still can't help but think, "Do I need to be here right now?" Heck with it; I'm this band's bassist, I just won't be on Saturday night. But this is Monday, so I'm not gonna act like a punk about it.
Saturday of the gig. I wake up. Another rehearsal is scheduled for a few hours before the gig to give Macy's bassist a chance to run through the tunes with the band. "Well," I told myself, "if I'm not playing, I might as well do something helpful." I throw on some headphones and work up a few more charts for some other Macy tunes. My logic is, she could go through her whole set, be really feeling the gig, and want to do a few more songs. I figured I'd do a few charts just on the off chance so Upstart would be ready.
Rehearsal later that day. The bassist playing with Macy turned out to be Lonnie Marshall! In some circles Lonnie is well known as the frontman/bassist for Weapon of Choice, a band I had been a fan of since college. His brother Arik played with the Chili Peppers during John Fruciante's first hiatus. When I moved out here to LA, I learned that he was part of a camp of well respected musicians from the South Bay area. Macy had known and collaborated with Lonnie for years. I had met Lonnie a few years prior and was actually pretty cool with him. That being the case, the situation bothered me a little less. But only a little.
Upstart ran through the tunes with Lonnie. I sat there and tried not to look too uncomfortable. at some point I mentioned that I had some extra charts on the off chance Macy wanted to do a few more. Rehearsal done, we all mounted up and headed down to Laguna. The plan was for Upstart to do the first set, then Macy and Lonnie would do the second set with the band.
The first set goes pretty well. We're tight, the crowd's into it, Energy level is pretty high. Then the set's over. I step off the stage, hit the bathroom, and prepare to find myself a comfy bar stool. I'm chatting with some friends when Tony taps me on the shoulder "Hey Elliott, do you still have any of those charts you said you did?"

Huh?

"Sure, what's going on?"

"Macy's decided that she doesn't want to do one of the tunes we worked on, she's not feeling it. She wants to know if there's anything else that we know that she could sing instead."

Wow.

The funny part is that the one she decided she didn't want to do was the song that we'd spent the most time working on. Figures. I grab my gig bag and pull out the charts I'd done. I talk through them quickly with the guys, and let Lonnie know we've got another tune. The replacement tune is Do Something, Macy's first single from her first album. No here comes the really funny part: Lonnie Doesn't know the song! He looks at me and goes, "I never learned this one man, I think you'll have to play it..."
I am flabbergasted. This is Lonnie Marshall. He's A.) Known Macy for years, so shouldn't he know this tune? and B.) the quy who played on HIGHPERSPICE!(find this record and listen to it and you'll know what I mean) Shouldn't he be able to figure it out? Oh well, once again it is what it is. I guess I'll have to play Do something.
Second set begins and Macy joins us onstage. She's been sequestered in the back, so this is the first any of us have seen of her all night. She seems to be about 7 feet tall. We kick into "Do Something" and she seems comfortable, Swaying to the groove and crooning that distinctive raspy alto. For better or worse, she sounds just like she does on recordings. The crowd is enthusiastic, singing along, showing the love. It's a bit more crowded in there than we've ever seen it, but only a bit. Oh Crap, something doesn't sound quite right. I realize it should be E Minor, not major. I look at Andy, the guitarist. He already knows. I mouth the word "minor" to Jarod as he looks up from the keys, he nods, makes the necessary adjustments, and continues. No one else seems to notice. Lucky.
Verse, Chorus, Verse, Bridge, Chorus, Bridge, Breakdown, Chorus. Done. We finish Do Something and I unplug, disembarking to make room for Lonnie, who will take it from here. He Daps me up and asks "any way we could both plug in?"
"It's all you man." I thank him and step down from the stage. I feel I've accomplished all I've needed to this evening. The rest of the night goes off without a hitch. After 3 or 4 more tunes, Macy says her thank yous and she and Lonnie disappear into the night. We finish the set in grand fashion. After thanks you's, accolades and our various post Mozambique rituals we all go off on our ways home.
Later that night, I get a text from Adryon, our singer, saying "You really made the save having those charts ready. Good looking out.
It would have been SO EASY. I could've been a kid about the whole situation. I did the opposite of that, and everybody won.

Changing my mind about "The Moment"

I heard a Nicki Minaj song today the hook on which made some reference to "the greatest moment in my life", or "the moment I've been waiting for" or something like that. I didn't like it, but it made me think. In the Aerosmith song "Amazing" the chorus goes "It's amazing/in the blink of an eye you finally see the light/yeah, it's amazing/when the moment arrives that you know you'll be alright."

Many of us hold a special fascination for "The Moment". The best example I can think of comes from the film The Pursuit of Happyness, a biopic about entrepreneur/ philanthropist Chris Gardner. In the movie's climactic scene, after months of the kind of adversity that would make most of us crumble, Chris sits at his desk, toiling away for the brokerage firm. His trainer calls him into the conference room. All of the bigwigs of his office are assembled. They inform him that he is the one trainee out of 30 that will be offered a permanent job with the company. He will now be able to provide for himself and his son. He'll no longer be homeless. In the next scene, Chris exits the building in slow motion, walking down the street, tears of joy flowing, clapping his hands, reveling in his changing fortune, his giant leap into his destiny. The violin strings swell, the heart strings tug. This is "The Moment".

It's easy to be enamored with the concept of "The Moment". It ties in with all we're taught about the American dream and and how we're all entitled to a mansion and a yacht. A big deal is often made when someone wins a huge lottery jackpot. It's covered on the news with a big press conference with a giant check. The winners all grin, answering questions about their plans. Often the plan involves quitting their job, buying a huge house, and, well, not much else. We the viewers vascillate between envy and vicarious thrill.

Recently our culture has more and more embraced ideals of avarice and comfort. "The Moment" helps sell these false ideals, and so it has become a lot more prominent in entertainment. American Idol is the most popular program on television. It sells "The Moment". A hometown boy or girl rises from nothing. We watch them, we vote on them. After months of competition and drama a new American Idol is crowned amid fireworks, confetti and the adulation of hundreds of millions of fans in an ratings bonanza.

Months later, the Idol's album comes out, and things change. The last few years have shown that TV success, that moment that is made such a big deal out of, does not necessarily translate into permanent success. Idol has had it's success stories of course, but at this point there are several more Lee Dewyze's than there are Carrie Underwoods. Some of you may be saying right now, "Lee Who?" My point exactly.

Many of those aforementioned lottery winners will attest to the same change in the weather. There are many stories about winners ending up back where they started financially not long after their lottery win, if not in worse circumstances than before. But this isn't really about the lottery or pop stars. It's about us.

I have realized it's not(or shouldn't be)about "The Moment". Moments end. Too many of us dream, think and pine for the moment that we get what we want, become who we are supposed to be, and the world is set right. But "The Moment", when it becomes the focus, becomes a brick wall. It may be gilded, adorned with a beautifully painted mural, with all the colors of your greatest fantasies. But a brick wall still represents an ending. How long can we stand there and look at it while the sun streaks across the sky and the grass grows around our feet. It may take awhile, but eventually the mural becomes boring and unremarkable, while we sit and revel in a moment that came and went.

After Chris Gardner's Moment, founded Gardner Rich LLC. He is a motivational speaker and philanthropist who among other things helps support the Cecil Williams Glide Community House in San Francisco, and has funded programs to provide low income housing. It wasn't just about "The Moment" for him. He considered life after the moment. He thought about what's next. There needs to be more of that.

We don't need to wait for the moment that changes everything. EVERY moment changes everything, or at least it can. It's important to use the small moments for big things; to learn, to pray, to plan, to share. Those lottery winner horror stories we've all heard show us that if we are unprepared for life after "The Moment", we can soon end up just as badly off. It's important to think about our goals as gateways to more goals. Appreciate and celebrate achievement, but remember: You are not done. There is always more to learn, more strength to gain, more people to help. Make sure your moment or moments aren't brick walls, but springboards. I know how important this is from personal experience. Looking at my own life I realized I often found myself relaxing after some small victory; some gig that I got or some other good news. It took me a long time to realize, resting on my laurels too long after the moment dishonors the blessing that came in that moment. The Moment isn't meant for the mantel. The Moment is meant for motion.

HMMM.....

I hardly know how I got here. It would not be accurate to say that everything is screwed up but I can fully recognize that this era is far from ideal and it makes me very afraid. I don't know if in the past I've bought into the "over the hump" concept so prevalent in music, but it scares me to consider it. No one wants to be the proverbial "old guy" that you read of in band listings....I don't understand; isn't this what I was meant to do? I remember clowning Wilson when he said to me "I'm supposed to be rich". I don't know from rich, but I think I understand how he feels a little better now.
It seems like everyone gets to be who they want to be with the exception of Us. There was an episode Friday night that served as another in a long list of very painful reminders of that. It feels like the world around me keeps on saying "not you. You are meant to try and fail again and again to suffer through the agony of watching dreams come true all around you while you kill yourself just trying to tread water. You will be surpassed by those you taught. You will be left behind by those who were once at your shoulder. Incidentally, those people never cared about you.
I don't want to believe these things. The empirical evidence however, grows more and more difficult to dispute with each new earnest effort that bears no fruit. With each new betrayal. With each passing day of no call back, or follow up e-mail or cancelled big thing.
It's not as if I don't try. I'm honestly doing everything I know how to do. I have made many mistakes. I know that, but none that others didn't deal with and get out from under. Why do mine seem to sink me so deep?
Many situations over the past several years have taught me a lesson in knowing to hear it when the people with whom you consider yourself a "we" are pointing at you and saying "you, you, you" That's a lesson I've been re-taught over and over. The unfortunate thing about hating to be alone is it's something you really can't control.
I look to God and I know he hears me. I know I am not forsaken. This still hurts. It makes me Curious about my limits. JMR found his and he's in florida now. What will happen when/if I reach mine?

Crimes of Compassion....

I'm at a disturbing place right now. A longtime friend and collaborator has finally done what's necessary to earn a permanent place on what my Aunt Erie refers to as "my fecal roster". It took quite awhile, which is mainly my fault. I often have these weird blinders when dealing with people. When someone does or says something unkind, unless it's really blatant, I seldom notice until late in the game. Often too late to save myself from the ramifications.
I've known dude for quite awhile, and we've been pretty cool. We've made a lot of music together. But recently he said something pretty un-supportive. The strange thing is I realized straight on that it was very insensitive behavior. I usually don't, but this particular time it really struck me. It also acted as something as a catalyst. What he said attached itself to every unkind thing this person had ever said or done in the past and I realized that there were quite a few. I realized that this behavior represented a pattern of behavior that I'd subconsciously worked very hard to ignore or explain away with extenuating circumstances or mitigating factors over several years. To my horror, I realized that there had even been points at which I had enabled this pathologically unkind attitude.
Now I recognize that no one has a mandated responsibility to be kind, or helpful, or supportive. But in the case of this person, what I realized is that he often played the role of a person who is kind, helpful, and supportive...until such time as it was necessary to show kindness, help or support! When a crisis came up it's never anything more than "oh sorry to hear that....guess what awesome thing just happened to me! What, you're too busy suffering to cheer my good fortune? Well then you suck!"
In times of relative peace, dude was simply really into himself. However, faced with the trials of others, his indifference was profound and acute. When you walk around playing the role of altruist, that's a messed up way to be. You're lying to the people in your life. Be who you are all the time, so I know you can't be turned to in a time of crisis! The effort you spend pretending is the same effort you'd spend helping someone in need anyway, If you're gonna be working anyway, you might as well work for good.
Ghandi once said "It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of nonviolence to cover impotence. There is hope for a violent man to become non-violent. There is no such hope for the impotent." You could replace the word violent(ce) with selfish(ness) and replace the word impotent(ce) with indifferent(ce), and this quote would still be just as true.
So what do you do when you realize a friend is not a friend? Especially when there's music involved? That's what I need to figure out. I could have a conversation about it with him but it wouldn't be the first time and the indifference is a matter of public record. I'm interested to see how this plays out. The funny thing is dude probably won't even notice.

and we are baack! this is my first post in a minute...and it's been a busy few....upstart gigs, trying to remember not to put off love conspiracy gigs.....starting work on my beloved's demo. trying to take the next step when there are so many possible steps to make is a challenge. I have decided to start a new blog though; more on that in a later post....in the meantime, here's my challenge right now....after subbing for my drummer in my solo band, the drummer in my soul band wants to cover one of my originals...that's flattering, but I wouldn't be singing it.....hmmmm. I guess I should just concentrate on appreciating that my music is appreciated. that makes sense right? Yeah, that makes sense.

so, in my burgeoning solo career which began in earnest last year, I have received my first significant "No"...a relatively popular dinner club/venue responded to my submission for a spot on their calendar with the following:
Thank you for your submission, however at this time we are not interested in your music.

Not interested in your music?......Okay now I get that rejection is an unfortunate component of my chosen profession, but DAMN!!! I guess it's the turn of phrase; when you use the terminology "your music" you make it really personal. It becomes about me as a person. It's not a rejection of my act, or even my playing, but since it's music that I created, it's a rejection of me as a person. Not a good feeling. Now I have to figure out how not to let this bother me. How to not bug myself with a myriad of whys and how comes and what's wrong with me's....tough one. It's amazing, I've received so much positive feedback about my solo endeavors over the last several months, This one rejection should by no means offset that. By no means. Not even a little bit.....right....I'm sure I'll feel better after my next gig...people dig it...I just gotta concentrate on continuing to dig doing it. even in the face of rejection.