Summa This, Summa That
There's not much to be said about Mockingbird, really. Or at least I don't have much to add to the conversation. Most remember it for Peck and for Scout and for what it said (and did not say) about the simultaneously complicated and simplistic times in which it was made; I remember it for launching one of my all-time favorite cinematic careers. Either will do.
Given that I have written at length of my appreciate for the performances of Sir Trevor Pinnock and of my love for François Couperin's "Les Barricades Mistérieuses" and for Georg Friedrich Händel's "The Harmonious Blacksmith," it's probably not a huge surprise that my "go-to" recording this time around was Pinnock's "The Harmonious Blacksmith" CD (which features both of those works).
Anything saying that film titles are an important part of the creative process/setting the cinematic scene is exceedingly likely to grab my attention. And if it also says (essentially) that "Saul Bass Is King?" Even more than exceedingly likely. (My only criticism? Too short; not enough detail. Luckily, we'll always have ArtOfTheTitle.com.)
It's not the most riveting thing I've ever seen, at least when judged in terms of the visual style and overall dynamics of its content. But there are some surprisingly fun little grace-notes that pop up unexpectedly -- the stop-motion staples crawling away made me laugh, for example -- and Howarth's woodworking skills are flat-out amazing for a non-handyman like me to watch (whether presented in a cutting-edge way or no).
It's true, as Short Of The Week points out, that this short's story is not what one would call "ruthlessly" original -- in fact, it's pretty much a "one-trick pony." And the look and sound of the robots feel like little more than WALL·E Lite. But it's great fun to watch, all the same. And the Anthropomorphism Level of its (single) creator is Definitely Expert.
If you watch the first two episodes of "Milo Murphy's Law" -- currently available for free through the folks at AMAZON PRIME -- and one of your first thoughts is is that it looks and sounds and feels a whole lot like "Phineas and Ferb," you are correct. Jeff 'Swampy' Marsh and Dan Povenmire are the creative forces behind both shows, and the artistic and humorousistic DNA is the absolute same, basically. (Except this one also has Weird Al Yankovic. So...there's that.)
Han, who has seen the film, notes that "the story and art are deceptively simple," but also notes that "it’s funny and sad and moving for reasons I can’t quite put into words." The trailer really captures a peculiar and under-represented (in Hollywood, at least) vibe -- perhaps best described as "ineffable and yet simple," if that's an actual thing -- but it also captures a lot more excitement/tension than I was anticipating before today.
I have no idea what my final opinion of Anders Thomas Jensen's Men & Chicken will be. I have no idea if it's even possible to have an opinion on it, final or otherwise. It's about as weird (and uncomfortable) as anything I've ever seen; equal parts disgusting and inspirational, hopeful and horrifying. And the ending is either one of the most life-affirming or cynical things ever.
I do have an opinion (and probably a final one) on the film's score, though. It's fantastic.
"From an octopus beneath the sea, to mayflies in the sky, insects camouflaged against the leaves of a tree, Velella velella stranded on a beach and the microscopic image of a seed pod, we received over 1000 entries across dozens of countries demonstrating biological phenomena in a range of environments."
Inspired by all the fun I'm having with Tony Zhou's "The Marvel Symphonic Universe" video, I've got a quick little pop-culture quiz for you today. Let's have a show of hands: First off, how many of y'all recognize the name Zack Hemsey (without clicking on this link)? And second, how many of you recognize this?
Tony Zhou, of the aforementioned and undeniably-great "Every Frame A Painting" series, fleshing out a controversial claim that I've held for some time now: That the melodic underpinnings of Marvel's cinematic universe are entirely too safe and entirely forgettable; rather than being musically risky or memorable, they're "bland and inoffensive."
The eleventh (and final) section of Henryk Górecki's "Miserere." The ten choral sections that come before are over 30 minutes long (in total), and are comprised of only three words, repeated over and over again:
"Domine Deus noster (Lord our God)."
This section, coming after more than a half hour of repeating that short phrase, has even fewer:
"Miserere nobis (Have mercy on us)."
