Another evening, another world premiere film. You envy my jet-set lifestyle, I know you do. Kung Fu Hustle is director Stephen Chow’s follow-up to his sorta-international smash Shaolin Soccer (I have no facts to back up that claim, by the way, save that I know people in at least two countries who really liked it). Kung Fu Hustle is set in a 1930s Chinese tenament colourfully named “Pig Sty Alley” wherein a small-time hustler (Chow) tries to make a name for himself with the local crime bosses, The Axes (a group of nattily dressed, dancing, axe-wielding gangsters), and stirs up a load of trouble when the slum turns out to be inhabited by a variety of kung fu masters.

In typical Chow fashion, it’s as much slapstick comedy as it is martial arts film, with the marvelously coreographed fight sequences liberally enhanced with not-quite-state of the art CGI effects. Yes, some of the effects reside on the fromage side of cheese but I think that’s deliberate and the campiness of it is part of the charm. I think I enjoyed this one even moreso than Shaolin Soccer, maybe because the premise isn’t quite so absurd (this, of course, is a very relative statement). I have some minor complaints: the humour is mostly lighthearted, which made it a just a little jarring when the violence suddenly turned gruesome (severed limbs, beheadings, etc), and the plausibility with which the various plot threads come together at the end is tenuous at best… But when you’re talking about a film that offers as many laughs as this one, these complaints are pretty much irrelevant.

Despite this being the world premiere (oh, did I already say that?), director Chow was not in attendance – instead the film’s ambassadors were a couple of actresses from the film. I don’t have names, but one had a main role as the Lion’s Roar-weilding landlady of the tenament and the other was a film rookie cast in the demanding role of pretty girl who does pretty much nothing. But she was good at it, so, uh, kudos. The crowd was incredibly enthusiastic about the film, and justifiably so – it’s a whole bucketload of fun. Hopefully this one will get proper distribution in North America quicker than it took Shaolin Soccer (that took what, four years?).

The timing of the film was such that I missed the final of the World Cup of Hockey. All the honking and flag-waving down Yonge St when we exited the theatre quickly informed us the good guys had indeed won. It wasn’t quite the zoo that the Olympic gold in ’02 was, but Toronto is never one to pass up the opportunity to honk car horns and wave giant flags out windows. For my part, I rode my bike home with my lights on ‘blink’. Seemed more celebratory that way. Congratulations, Team Canada – now get your punk asses back to the bargaining table and work out a deal to save the NHL season you greedy SOBs.

The reunited Camper Van Beethoven is at Lee’s Palace on October 21 to promote their first album of new material in 15 years, New Roman Times (great title, btw), out October 12. I will give $5 to anyone who goes the show and says within earshot of Dave Lowery, “Man, I wish Cracker would get back together…” (Fine print – I will not actually give you $5).

Splendid’s latest feature interview is Ken Stringfellow of Big Star, The Posies and R.E.M., not to mention an accomplished solo artist in his own right.

Coolfer has a nice little essay directed at music downloaders which attempts to dispel some popular myths about the cost of downloading.

Where’s Willy is a website designed to track the movements of marked $5 bills around Canada. It’s a cute idea and I’m only linking it because I got a branded five-spot last night and dutifully logged it when I got home.

np – The New Year / Newness Ends

Film number two in my TIFF itinerary was the world premiere of Margaret Brown’s Be Here To Love Me, a documentary about the late Austin singer-songwriter Townes Van Zandt. Over five years in the making, the doc compiles archival television and home video footage of the performer, taped telephone interviews and stories and recollections from friends and relatives to paint a portrait of the artist as young man who died too soon at age 52, yet lasted far longer than many expected. It presents Townes as a charming, easygoing man who writes heartbreakingly beautiful songs while being a lifelong substance abuser (there are yearbook photos of him sniffing glue) who seemed to know he wasn’t long for this world, yet never painting him as a tragic figure. In fact, it doesn’t take any particular angle on his story, playing it very straight and displays a great affection for the man and his work. The overall impression you get from the film is that he was greatly beloved by all who knew him and probably harmed no one, save himself, and even there he doesn’t come off as self-destructive – the drugs and the drink were just part of who he was. I had only a passing knowledge of Townes van Zandt’s work going into this film, mostly from having heard a handful of his better known songs and from Steve Earle’s adoration of the man. Obviously I will need to seek out more of his music.

Meaningless observations from the screening – being the world premiere, much of the production crew were in attendance at the screening, and many of them were attractive young women. Maybe I should go into documentary filmmaking? And in the film’s closing credits, Scottish noiseniks Mogwai are listed in the ‘Thank You’ section. Mogwai. I’d love to know what that’s about.

I went out at lunch yesterday and got a copy of the Arcade Fire record. You’ve no doubt be heard lots and lots of praise for this album over the last little while and will no doubt be hearing more and more in the weeks and months to come – it will certainly be making any number of year-end lists. So maybe you’re wondering if all the hype is justified, if it’s the bee’s knees or case of the over-excitable blogosphere falling for the emperor’s new clothes? I will admit, the individual tracks I’d heard over the past couple months from various sources had me intrigued but not sold. I tend to be pretty cynical when the buzz begins to snowball – just my way of staying fashionably unfashionable. But taken as a whole album, Funeral is pretty damn remarkable. The last album I remember being so much more than the sum of its parts was Neutral Milk Hotel’s In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. It’s impassioned, baroque, modern, powerful, delicate, brutal and beautiful – sometimes all in the same song – but never sounds affected or pretentious. To hell with Franz Ferdinand, THIS is the debut album of the year. I mean, I’ve had it for less than a day and I’ve already listened to it four or five times. I almost NEVER repeat-play a new record, but this one has completely jumped the queue – it’s just that compelling. And it has some of the loveliest packaging I’ve seen in ages. I’m now really really looking forward to the October 1 show at Lee’s Palace – chalk me up in the ‘believers’ column.

Bradley’s Almanac reports that Rilo Kiley are touring with a 10-piece orchestra. The joys of a major label touring budget! But I’m wondering if they’ve seen the size of the Horseshoe stage… methinks they’ll have to stack the string section on October 3 to make them all fit. This should be glorious.

Cheers to Sea Ray for getting the nod in All Music Guide’s Hot Artist Spotlight.

np – Arcade Fire / Funeral

Last night was the second half of the Way Down South double-header weekend – Drive By Truckers and Allison Moorer Saturday night, Old 97’s and Chuck Prophet last night. I saw more than a few of the same faces at both shows.

Chuck Prophet kicked things off at 9 sharp – thank goodness for early starts on Sunday nights. I’d never heard his stuff though I did know that he was considered something of an alt.country forebear with his old 80s outfit Green On Red. I don’t know what that band sounded like, but solo he trades in fairly conventional twang-heavy roots-rock coupled with sardonic lyrics. His set was enjoyable enough with some impressive guitar solos and a couple of standout songs – a fine warm-up act though I didn’t feel the urge to rush out and load up on his back catalog.

Another act I’d never seen live before, Dallas’ Old 97’s had a fearsome live reputation to live up to and proved themselves deserving. I can’t explain why, but it seemed to take them a few songs to really get into gear, but when they did they just got up and went. Fighting off some equipment jinxes (final count – four broken guitar stings for Rhett Miller, one dead Telecaster for Ken Bethea), the band powered through material drawn mainly from the last four records, obviously concentrating on their latest release Drag It Up. I personally find that record a little patchy but in only selecting the stronger numbers for live performance, the material sounds almost as strong as numbers off of Satellite Rides or Fight Songs (my personal favourite).

By leaving plenty of stage space open for Miller, Murray Hammond and Bethea to cut loose and move around, poor Phillip Peeples and his drum kit were consigned to the very back of the stage, barely visible even from my vantage point right up front. He still managed to make his presence felt, however – The man’s drumming was tremendously propulsive and gave the band their get up and go, particularly on the more rocktackular numbers from Too Far To Care. Bethea tossed off killer riff after killer riff from his Telecaster, stopping only to take a solo or step up the mic for his first lead vocal on “Coahula”. Frontman Miller was up there doing the frontman thing, shaking his booty to the delight of much of the female audience (I saw them, they looked delighted). He led off the encore first asking where in town he could get a haircut and then doing a couple of solo acoustic numbers including a great rendition of “Our Love”, from his solo record The Instigator. I should probably say something about Murray Hammond… he was good. Doing the bass thing. And some singing.

So yeah, great show. I’m tired. Zoilus has a piece that he wrote for the Globe & Mail about alt.country in the year 2004, prompted by the two shows in town this weekend and the fact that the GOP may have delivered the genre’s death-knell.

My photos came out a little better than Saturday, but there was still this pervasive magenta cast that was far stronger than I was seeing on the camera’s display. I’m certain it’s tied to the tungsten white balance setting, which I won’t be using anymore even though it’s supposed to be the correct setting for stage lights. Instead it makes everyone look like they’ve gone through the laundry with a red sock or something. It kinda sucks to only be learning this stuff after the show is over, but what can you do? Live and learn.

More Arcade Fire love – Pitchfork gives Funeral a 9.7.

Nellie McKay will be financing her next record out of her own pocket. I dunno, when I was 19 I could barely finance Taco Bell out of my own pocket. From Pop (All Love).

np – Spoon / A Series Of Sneaks

I had always thought the Drive-By Truckers would be more bearded. I don’t know why. The Great White North is about as far as you can get from The Dirty South, but Allison Moorer and the DBT did a pretty good job of playing ambassadors last night. It was definitely an older, heavier and balder crowd than I usually find at the shows I go to, but everyone was anxious for the rock and the rock was brought.

I saw Allison Moorer a couple years ago when she was doing soulful country backed by a shit-hot band – now she’s doing soulful Southern rock backed by a shit-hot band. I think the latter sound suits her voice and songs better – the country sound seemed a little restrictive for her, she sounds better with the looser, more grooving sound. The crowd was certainly more appreciative of her this time around, maybe because there actually was a crowd. And oh yeah, she was looking gooood and that Southern accent? Hoo-boy.

Drive-By Trucker shows are things of legend, and now I understand why. Those guys (and girl) like to play and play and play – they kept the energy at 10 for a solid two and a half hours and probably could have kept going long into the night, telling the tales of Southern mythology that are the Truckers’ stock in trade. The concetrated on material from The Dirty South and Decoration Day, the only two records I have, but presumably dipped further back into their catalog as there were a number of tunes I didn’t recognize. Main trucker Patterson Hood looked to be having a blast with a huge grin on his face for most of the show and declared his love for this city, promising like so many others recently to move north is the election goes south in November. He even sported a tasteful, “If you vote for Bush you are an asshole” sticker on the back of his SG. Nice. Jason Isbell never missed an opportunity to put his foot on the monitor during one of his many many guitar solos. He also took a lot more lead vocals on the night, reflecting his greater contributions to The Dirty South. I couldn’t believe that whiskey-soaked rasp was coming from the baby-faced guitarist standing in front of me (and nearly smacking me in the head with the headstock of his Strat on more than one occasion). That was probably the most fully ROCK show I’ve seen since My Morning Jacket last year (who were as beareded as they sound). My only complaints on the night? No “Carl Perkins’ Cadillac”, my favourite tune from the new record, and excessively-priced merch. $30 for a copy of Southern Rock Opera? No. But it was a great show all around and their reputation is well-deserved.

I can’t say I’m really happy with my pics from last night – it was my first club show with the G3 and I’m still sorting things out. Everything is underexposed and undersaturated and there’s more noise than I’d like. The gallery is something of a dog’s breakfast of settings and shooting modes as I was constantly looking for the right combination, and I don’t think I ever quite found it. I’m going to be sitting down the the manual again today to see if there’s something I’m setting incorrectly.

Greg Keelor of Blue Rodeo will be opening both shows at the Horseshoe next weekend for The Sadies, replacing Rick White of The Unintended/Elevator/Eric’s Trip. I saw Keelor open for them a few years ago as a last-minute replacement for Beachwood Sparks and he did a whole set of Lee Hazlewood covers with the Sadies as his backing band. It was a little surreal – I guess there’s a lot of stuff he doesn’t get to indulge in at his day job. These shows are a CD release party for the Sadies’ new album, Favourite Colours, which I picked up this weekend. It’s quite good – they’ve gotten more and more song-oriented and focused with each successive album and that trend continues here. It’s their shortest record yet but also their most cohesive, concentrating a little bit more on atmosphere and feel than frenzied musicianship, but don’t worry – there’s still plenty of insane guitar playing on offer.

Even though the entire series will be available on DVD come December 7, Wonderfalls will finally be returning to television – in Canada, anyways – on Vision TV starting October 4 and running Mondays at 9pm. Vision’s mandate is “faith and inspirational” television, in case you were wondering. Never thought I’d see the day when a heathen like me would be watching Vision.

Mm, having some trouble writing today. Brain not firing. Hope to have synapses back in line for the Old 97s tonight.

np – Steve Earle / The Revolution Starts… Now

It dawned on me last night what the upcoming week holds for me – lineups, lineups and more lineups. I started TIFF week with the North American premiere of David Gordon Green’s Undertow. I’ve only seen one of his films, the drama-romance All The Real Girls, which I liked quite a bit but wasn’t using as a reference for what to expect from his latest, and it’s just as well – they don’t have much in common, at least not on the surface. Undertow is a fairly grim drama-thriller about a pair of brothers on the run from their ex-con uncle. While fairly tense all the way through, the pace of the film is a bit uneven. You expect the inevitable climax several times before it finally happens and when it does, you feel like it was stalling for no real good reason.

There are no complaints about the performances, however. Jamie Dunn (Billy Elliott) in particular is amazing as the older brother, you’d never suspect that the intense Southern boy on the screen is actually an English kid. All the actors do an excellent job in their roles – Green is proving himself a master at eliciting incredibly naturalistic performances from his cast. As he addressed in the Q&A after the film, he concentrates on catching the pauses and the nuances that you’d get from real people being themselves as opposed to an actor reciting a role. I found the Q&A particularly interesting – I liked getting some insight as to what the director was trying to convey and accomplish with the film, and it got me more excited about what I had just seen than I was while the credits were rolling. And oh yeah, I had thought that the film starred Dylan McDermott but it was actually Dermot Mulroney… Probably a better choice as McDermott would have looked just odd in the cowboy boots and hat.

If you’re looking for more TIFF reviews, these guys are blogging the whole festival.

Some c-c-c-concerts… Lee’s Palace will host a show with Sufjan Stevens on November 16 and then a two-night stand by Hayden on November 18 and 19. I have heard good things about Sufjan. Should I go see Sufjan? Maybe I just like saying ‘Sufjan’. November’s looking kinda empty right now, so I’ll put it on the calendar. Anyway, ticket info on these shows is still forthcoming.

Some Wilco odds and ends: The company that does the visuals for their tours has some samples of their work in the form of concert footage. Lookee here. Also, Billboard has some bits and pieces about the forthcoming Wilco Book, their track on the soundtrack to the Spongebob Squarepants movie and John and Laurie Stirrat’s upcoming record Arabella, out September 21.

Rusted Robot conducts an excellently informal interview with Jay Farrar and helps dispel some of the perception that he lives in some sepia-toned dustbowl-era middle-American parallel world (okay, that was sort of my perception). Turns out he likes to kick back and watch Ali G like everybody else. I haven’t permalinked the interview as the site has some issues with Mozilla, but it’s the September 10 entry, if you’re looking.

Matador has released the tracklisting for Pavement’s Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain double-disc reissue coming out October 26. Looks goooood.

I got a new washing machine yesterday. Yeah. Appliances are hott, baby.

np – The Sadies / Favourite Colours