Cats in East Vancouver, May 24, 2012. Robyn Hanson photo

My girlfriend took this photo on the way out of my building on East 2nd Ave near Commercial last night around 6 p.m. This is in the backyard of the punk rock house next door. The grey furball is my cat, Max; the other two are neighbourhood felines. There’s something going on, though I’m not sure what; no wonder he was so eager to go outside.

Don’t make the same mistake I did.

I have to admit, I watched this movie for self-righteous reasons.

You see, this 2000 Japanese movie has the same scenario as The Hunger Games – namely, a bunch of teenagers dropped into a remote outpost and forced to kill each other in order to survive – but has cult-movie status. Therefore, I figured, Battle Royale would be better than the Hollywood product that came after, and having watched both I could knowledgeably say, “The Hunger Games? Phah! Have you seen Battle Royale?”

I’m sorry to say, friends, that Battle Royale is a royal piece of shit.

In fact, I would gladly submit to having my eyelids propped open with clothespins and made to watch The Hunger Games for eight hours straight than sit through this piffle a second time.

Girl with a scythe. Big deal.

Battle Royale actually starts off slightly better, however. Where The Hunger Games took forever and a day to get anywhere, the violence starts early in Battle Royale. The Japanese movie doesn’t bother with things like the reason why these forty or so teens have to fight to the death – it gets right into the action.

However, it soon becomes clear that what seems like narrative expediency on the part of Battle Royale‘s filmmakers is actually an early indicator that these guys don’t have a fucking clue.

Nothing makes sense in this movie. Having not read the book, I don’t know if the gaps are filled in, but Battle Royale is full of the kind of behaviour that no relatively normal human would ever engage in, not even under these circumstances. I mentioned that no real reason is given for the central conceit, but this isn’t entirely true; near the beginning of the movie, the kids’ former teacher mentions something about them not respecting adults. However this isn’t ever shown and only vaguely alluded to this once, and anyway it doesn’t jibe with what anything else we see in the movie, especially in the flashbacks.

Oh, and those flashbacks! Good god, what sentimental and tedious rubbish. And they never stop! Even at the end, the movie keeps shoveling more flashbacks at us in an attempt to derive some meaning from the nonsense that has come before.

Even the violence isn’t redemptive. Battle Royale doesn’t shy away from a good Scanners-like head explosion or axe in the skull the way the ultra-squeamish and money-hungry Hunger Games flick does, but the blood and gore isn’t all that shocking or even effective since we don’t give a tinker’s fart about the characters.

And the acting! Whatever the problems The Hunger Games has, at the end of the day it still has Jennifer Lawrence, an actress with the ability to make us care about a piece of toast (essentially, her character in The Hunger Games). But with the exception of veteran Japanese actor Takeshi Kitano (whose character by the way also makes no sense), the performances are uniformly terrible. There’s lots of yelling and screaming and eyeball bulging but not for a second do you believe any of these kids to be in any real danger, never mind fighting for their lives.

Both movies wrap up in totally unsatisfying ways; The Hunger Games isn’t resolved so much as it holds out its hand to take your money for a sequel. Battle Royale gives us a somewhat tidier ending, but it makes little sense in context of the rest of the movie. Neither one, for my money, is worth wasting your time on.

Rickie Lee Jones, Pirates (1981).

I couldn’t believe I no longer had this record.

I had a sudden hankering this past week to hear “We Belong Together”, the album’s opener, but was mortified to find Pirates missing from my collection – I must’ve got rid of it when I sold a whole whack of vinyl a couple of years ago before moving. Strange, since the record was such a huge part of my adolescence.

Growing up, I loved this album; listening to it today, I find it just as beautiful, wise and mysterious as I did as a teenager. Jones released it in 1981, two years after her debut; I think I might have bought Pirates because Rolling Stone gave it five stars (I was an inveterate Rolling Stone reader in those days). For a 16-year-old who was into the Clash and Elvis Costello, Jones’ sophomore record was pretty heady stuff. Then again I loved Steely Dan (couldn’t get enough of Greatest Hits) as well, and they’re a big influence on the record (Donald Fageneven plays synth), particularly in the penultimate track, the eight-minute jazz odyssey “Traces of the Western Slopes”.

I think I had this!

But it’s the album’s street poetry that I responded to most – Jones’ visions of bohemia on songs like the title track, “We Belong Together”, and “Living It Up”. So many lines from this 30-year-old record have become part of my pop-culture hard-drive: “How could a Natalie Wood not get sucked/Into a scene so custom-tucked/Now look who shows up/” (“We Belong Together”); “Cleveland forgot/Memphis forgot/Where they were coming from” (“Woody and Dutch on a Slow Train”); “Oh my sad-eyed Sinatras” (“Pirates (So Long Lonely Avenue)”).

There are other things I love about this record. “We Belong Together” starts out like a forlorn, night-time New York piano ballad – but then, suddenly, midway through, it starts to swing! – but only briefly; but then, it swings again at the end. I love the moods of this record, how varied it is, from the street-poetry one-two punch of “We Belong Together” and “Living It Up”, which is followed by the brief, tragic “Skeletons” and the finger-snapping street-party mood of “Woody and Dutch On a Slow Train to Peking”. Jones opens Side 2 with “Pirates (So Long Lonely Avenue)”, which sounds to me now like her version of Bruce Springsteen‘s “10th Avenue Freeze-Out”, and ends with a perfect whisp of a song, “The Returns”.

So cool… Rickie Lee Jones circa 1980… I think.

Also on Side 2, “A Lucky Guy”, is probably the clearest thing the album has to a pop song; it reached #64 on the Billboard charts (“Chuck E.’s in Love”, from Jones’ debut, went to #4). I would imagine Pirates must have surprised people hoping for a repeat of her debut’s more traditional pop song approach. The album has never quite got its proper due, but I’m not the only one who thinks it’s one of the best records he’s ever heard.

Jones has released quite a few albums since, and many are notable, including the follow-up EP Girl At Her Volcano (which, I have to admit, I did not get at the time at all); The Magazine (which features one of my all-time favourite Jones songs, “It Must Be Love”); Flying Cowboys (which features another of my all-time favourite RLJ tracks, “Rodeo Girl”); GhOsTYhead (I think it’s the title track where she sings about doing Ecstasy); The Evening of My Best Day (“It Takes You There”); and 2007′s The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard.

I recall liking that last record, though I can’t remember a song; I listened to it while preparing for an interview with Miss Jones for one of the papers I was writing for at the time. I think I asked her about Olympia, Washington, where she spent some of her teens, and of course the record she was promoting. But I don’t think I asked anything about Pirates, which is a shame; today I would probably grill her about it. Then again, everything you need to know is there in the grooves.

Turn Me On, Dammit! (2011) movie poster.

I was fortunate enough to get a screener for this movie, a Norwegian sex comedy that opened this week in Vancouver. “Sex comedy” might not be the right description – that kind of calls to mind those British sex farces from the ’60s and ’70s (i.e. No Sex Please We’re British). Turn Me On, Dammit! is far more mild, while at the same breaking some cultural taboos that would probably have sent some ’70s theatregoers into convulsions.

Anyway, I really liked it – you can read my full review here. I also thought the different posters used to sell the movie are pretty interesting, so I’ve collected a bunch below. Leave a comment on your favourite – if you dare.

The Swedish movie poster for Ligg Med Mig (trans: Lie With Me), aka Turn Me On, Dammit!

Russian? movie poster for Turn Me On Dammit!

Fa meg pa, for faen (aka Turn Me On Dammit!).

Turn Me On, Dammit! (Fa Meg Pa, For Faen) hammer poster.

The Innkeepers directed by Ti West (2011).

I’d heard about Ti West as a fresh new voice in American horror. I’ve heard that before, though, so I approached The Innkeepers, his 2011 movie, with some skepticism.

I’m happy to report that this is a terrific little horror flick. I used the adjective “little” not to demean but to denote the film’s low budget, its lack of reliance on special effects and its emphasis on character.

Usually I’m not a huge fan of “auteurs” – that is, writer/directors – but West, who wrote the script as well as directed, smartly focuses on Claire (Sara Paxton, so natural in the role I was disappointed to learn she’s been acting since she was eight and wasn’t just discovered behind the till of a record store) and Luke, the two twentysomething hipsters manning the front desk of a Connecticut inn on a long weekend. (The movie could just as easily be set in Portland.)

Pat Healy and Sara Paxton in The Innkeepers.

Lena Dunham (Girls) is cast in a minor part, and Kelly McGillis (Top Gun, The Accused) is one of the few guests at the Yankee Pedlar Inn. There are plenty of good scares but West is most effective at building tension, only to relieve it with a laugh at his characters’ expense – up to a point.

Ultimately The Innkeepers‘ success is due to being just what it implies – a movie about two bored innkeepers who enjoy scaring each other a little too much. As with the best horror movies, The Innkeepers leaves you wondering just what happened, and what was real and what wasn’t. Of course the answer is moot – it’s just a movie, after all, and none of it’s real. But The Innkeepers got under my skin.

Sara Paxton in The Innkeepers.

Trailer – The Innkeepers (HD):

Grandview Cut in Vancouver, May 12 2012. Photo by Bill Campbell.

My gal and I were walking along Woodland Saturday evening when we came a cross a photographer setting up his camera for some shots of the sunset from the Grandview Cut overpass. We stopped to chat and I asked him to send a few of the pics. His name is Bill Campbell and these are the absolutely gorgeous photos he sent.

Grandview Cut in Vancouver. Photo by Bill Campbell.

Vancouver Craft Beer Week Belgian Beer Showcase at Biercraft on Commercial 2011. Robyn Hanson photo

I recently wrote a preview for the third annual Vancouver Craft Beer Week, which begins this Friday (May 18).  I had a blast at the events I went to last year – an American beer expo at the armoury downtown and a Belgian showcase at Biercraft on Commercial – and from the looks of this year’s lineup, there’s lots of great events coming up. I’m especially excited about Portland Craft, a new bar opening up during the festival. It features only Oregon brews on tap.

Anyway, usually a piece like this should probably only run 5 – 600 words, especially for the pay rate, which barely covers the cost of the ticket I bought for one of the events during my research. But I got carried away…

From BCLiving.ca (posted May 14 2012):

Imerse yourself in the wonderful world of beer at Vancouver’s Third Annual Craft Beer Week May 18-26

If you haven’t started drinking craft beer, here’s a word of advice: don’t.

Because if you do, you might find yourself sniffing the air at bars and informing people, “The tap selection here isn’t fit for swine.” Party invitations will stop coming because you can’t stop talking about hoppiness and barley notes. You’ll find yourself standing in front of the beer fridge at specialty liquor stores, looking for that perfect magical elixir among the selection of newly arrived small-craft brews that seems to grow every week.

However, if you’re already at this point – or if you don’t mind ostracizing yourself from your circle of PBR-swilling friends – then welcome to third annual Vancouver Craft Beer Week.

Read more at BCLiving.ca.

Vancouver Craft Beer Week Belgian Beer Showcase at Biercraft on Commercial 2011. Robyn Hanson photo

The Payola$’ No Stranger to Danger (1982).

I had this album in the mid-eighties; I think I might’ve been late to The Payola$, and that maybe the band’s “Eyes of a Stranger” – ubiquitous thanks to the video, and MuchMusic’s need for Canadian content in its early days – had already been a hit.

Anyway, that wasn’t the song I liked on No Stranger to Danger, which was the Vancouver group’s second full-length. The opening track “Romance” is a killer, and “Some Old Song” and “Youth” still get my blood flowing, if just a little.

Video – The Payola$, “Romance”:

Growing up, I was a sucker for singer/lyricist Paul Hyde‘s jaded romanticism on songs like “Rose” (about a junkie) and “Hastings Street” (about a junkie). I have to laugh now, looking back on the 18 or 19-year-old me, listening to “Hastings Street” and not knowing a thing about the street outside of the song. Now, of course, having lived in Vancouver for decades, Hastings Street is part of the landscape, like the mountains and Telus Science World.

Getting back to The Payola$: one of their shows in Winnipeg – at the Centennial Concert Theatre, if memory serves – was one of the first times I got backstage, I think because I’d written a story on the band for my community college rag. I remember for some reason asking Hyde about the future of the band, and him saying something about the group having to make some money soon or they would go “tits-up.” It was the first time I’d ever heard the term (Hyde would’ve been 10 years old than me, probably 29 or 30).

There were a lot of interesting things about The Payola$; they weren’t punk and they weren’t quite new wave, either. No Stranger to Danger has ’80s production but the songs hold up. The Clash was obviously a huge influence – The Payola$ too dabbled with reggae and ska. The band’s creative engine was comprised of schoolboy chums Hyde, a British emigré, and Bob Rock, originally from Winnipeg. In the ’90s and beyond, Rock would become a sought-after producer  (Bon Jovi, Metallica, Aerosmith), but No Stranger to Danger was produced by Mick Ronson.

Ronson is a whole other story – he was David Bowie‘s guitarist for awhile and formed Mott the Hoople with Ian Hunter. Ronson continued to play with Hunter during the latter’s solo career, although probably around the time of No Stranger to Danger, The Clash’s Joe Strummer and Mick Jones were producing Hunter’s Short Back n’ Sides album. Full circle.

The Payola$ recorded a third record, 1983′s Hammer on a Drum, which featured the hit “Never Said I Loved You”, a duet with Rough Trade’s Carol Pope (and now we’re really heading down the rabbit hole of ’80s Canadiana). I think “Where is This Love” might also have been a hit on Canadian radio and MuchMusic. My favourite songs on the album were both on the second side, however; “Christmas is Coming” is another Hyde-ian junkie’s lament and an unjustly forgotten Christmas anthem, and record-closer “People Who Have Great Lives” is a joyous, life-loving rocker.

Eventually the band devolved into Paul Hyde and The Payola$ and then just Rock and Hyde for the 1987 album Under the Volcano. That record too had some memorable songs, though, including “Dirty Water”, “The Blind the Deaf and the Lame” and another of my favourite Hyde/Rock rockers, “Middle of the Night”.

Since then, the duo have only released one seven-song EP, 2007′s Langford Part One (named after the Vancouver Island community where Hyde and Rock grew up). Alas rock ‘n’ roll can be cruel and I guess there wasn’t enough of a demand for a Part Two. Rock ‘n’ roll also never forgets, though, and I hope this little tribute will encourage some people to check out The Payola$. And for those who remember, please share any Payola$ tidbits you might have in the comments section.

Last weekend, I wrote a blog post about buying a cheap science fiction paperback (Destiny Doll by Clifford D. Simak) off a guy selling books outside my neighbourhood liquor store. The guy had a huge selection of SF paperbacks and I regretted not taking a photo then. So yesterday the same dude – I think his name is Ritchie – had his wares out once again so I snapped these pics.

Carolyne Mas’ 1979 debut album. I had this on cassette when I was 14!

I thought about this album the other day. I had it on cassette – it came out in 1979 so I would’ve been 14 (Mas would have been 24). I might have bought it because it was advertised in Creem Magazine. I do recall a review, or at least a blurb, saying something along the lines of “We’ve been waiting for a female Springsteen and here she is”, or something.

Anyway, I recall playing the hell out of the tape… at least, a few of the songs, including “Stillsane”, “Quote Goodbye Quote” and “Sadie Says” all were instantly familiar when I heard them again recently on Mas’ website.)

I thought of this album (released on Mercury in the U.S. and Polydor on Canada) because of the song “Sadie Says”. In particular, there’s a line where Mas spits, “I like to piss away my pay,” and that’s exactly how I felt the other day, after I got my first paycheck for a new part-time job and I was sitting out on my balcony drinking an expensive craft beer. Not sure if that’s exactly the scenario Mas has in mind when she wrote the song, but there you go.

YouTube video – Carolyne Mas, “Sadie Says”:

There were some great songs on her second album, Hold On, as well. The title track (an “Everlasting Love” rip), “Stay True”, “Running From the High Life”, “You Can Not Win If You Do Not Play” (a Steve Forbert song) are all still fine rock songs; “Amsterdam” is a lovely, stripped-down ballad (Mas got a lot of attention for another ballad, “Snow”, off her debut).

A third record, Modern Dreams, featured Mas looking like an airbrushed Barbra Streisand on the cover. The music inside was slicker than on the first two albums; looking at the tracklisting, I can’t recall what one song sounds like, even though I had the record.

Then this happened – something I had no idea about. According to the bio page on her website:

JANUARY 1986: Carolyne shares the stage with Springsteen and others at THE STONE PONY in Asbury Park, NJ, in a benefit to help the workers affected by the closing of a 3M plant in Freehold, NJ. She performs at the STONE PONY again on the 22, with J.A.M. (more about them later), and just as things are finally looking up, in the early hours of January 26, she is rushed to a Jersey Shore hospital, fighting this time for her life.

Just who broke into Carolye Mas’s apartment, stabbing her 9 times, slitting her throat, then taking her prize Telecaster and her trademark hat, remains a mystery to this day. No cash was taken, though plenty was around. A half-eatten ham-and-cheese sandwich, a can of Campbell’s Chunky Soup along with a can of tuna fish in a brown paper bag, and most disturbing, a copy of a Conan the Barbarian comic book, are all found at a picnic tabel outside her window. The door is forced open with a knife. She is stabbed in her sleep. She crawls to the door to open it for a neighbor who awoke for no explainable reason to check on her, and he calls the police.

Jesus Christ.

Mas survived. She made a fourth record, 1989′s Action Pact, which was released in Germany. And then…

Well, there’s more to her story; it’s all there on the bio page of her website.

Anyway, today Mas sounds to me like a missing link between Pat Benatar and Bruce Springsteen. Some of these songs are worth hearing, so check out her website for more if you like what I’ve included here.

Video – Carolyne Mas, “Stillsane” (recored live at the Empire Theatre, Paris, Dec 1979):

Next: Holly and the Italians.