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Bottomless Pit- Hammer of the Gods 2xLP + CD
Silkworm were one of the very best rock bands around, a band that came out at the right time and the right place, based initially in Missoula, Mont., but spending a bulk of the 90's in Seattle and finally relocating to Chicago. Whatever the reason, their albums never seemed to catch on, but they've always had a loyal following and their records have a consistency that many bands lack.
In 2005, Silkworm's drummer, Michael Dahlquist (who joined the band in 1990) was killed in a car crash by a reckless woman hellbent on ending her own life. His two other friends were also killed in the crash, and it left a gaping hole in the hearts of anyone who knew those guys or loved the band.
Amazingly, Tim Midgett (bass/baritone guitar/vocals) and Andy Cohen (guitar/vocals), regrouped later that same year and started another band, Bottomless Pit, with Chris Manfrin (drums) and Brian Orchard (bass).
Taking the title of a Led Zeppelin biography might lead you to believe that the songs are Silkworm heavy, but quite a few of the tracks on Gods are more subdued and intimate, like "Leave the Light On" and the closing track, "Sevens Sing," which starts out with a drum machine and gently moves along with a quiet grace.
The record packaging/artwork is especially nice, pressed on double 12" vinyl, including a CD of all 8 tracks on the album. The CD will also be released in proper form on the New Jersey-based Comedy Minus One record label, run by former My Pal God records head Jon Solomon, who put out a few Silkworm records in the 90's.
The songwriting talents of both Tim Midgett and Andy Cohen added a uniqueness to Silkworm's records, with Midgett's songs being more direct, and Cohen's being abstract and sometimes harsh. Gods is no different, with Cohen offering up the insistent, emotional "Dogtag," the rockin' "Dead Man's Blues," and "Greenery," one of the better songs on the album.
"The Cardinal Movements" and "Reposession" immediately hook you with the great guitar interplay, especially the latter, which is filled with a theme of hope amongst despair, a life-affirming reminder that no matter how bad it gets, there's always the sacred refuge of music.
Eastern Promises (directed by David Cronenberg)
You can accuse David Cronenberg of a lot of things, but you can't say that he's gone soft. His latest film, Eastern Promises, is just as unsettling as any of his previous ones, which range from the 1988 Jeremy Irons doppelganger classic Dead Ringers to the autoeroticism of Crash (1996).
It's true that a lot of Cronenberg's films are violent, Promises being no exception, but he deals with it in a way that is dissimilar to other directors. Every act of violence is seen as a truly horrific event, and he forces you to focus on the grotesque images, not particularly for the pure sake of shocking, but to show the full extent of evil that is capable within humans.
Anna Khitrova (Naomi Watts), a midwife living in London, is suddenly sucked into the Russian underworld when a teenaged girl hemorrhages and dies giving birth to her daughter. Of particular concern is the diary the deceased girl has on her, which Anna brings home to her uncle (Jerzy Skolimowski) to translate.
It doesn't take long for the Vory V Zakone crime family, led by Semyon (Armin Mueller-Stahl), to get their hands on the journal, as Anna needs to find a living relative to hand the baby over to.
This is Viggo Mortensen's second film with Cronenberg, the first being 2005's History of Violence, but this time, the collaboration is even more fruitful and Mortensen completely disappears into the role of Nikolai, who gently insists throughout the film that he is "just a driver" for the Zakone family.
Such an assertion arouses supicions right off the bat, because Nikolai has a dark grace about him that is different than the pure ugliness of Semyon's son Kirill, played with wonderful nastiness by French actor Vincent Cassel.
Promises is similar to Violence in the fact that Nikolai is a mysterious character, but to say any more than that would be ruining the film. What is worth mentioning is the already legendary bath house scene, where Mortensen has to fight for his life in the buff against two brutal gangsters. By the end of the sequence, there's a feeling that you've just witnessed a new landmark in the history of movie fights.
Promises is a great film, and it confirms Cronenberg's place among the very best of directors.
3:10 To Yuma (directed by James Mangold)
Christian Bale needs to take a break. Not only did he act his ass off in Werner Herzog's Rescue Dawn earlier this summer, but he does it again in 3:10 To Yuma, a remake of the 1957 film based on a short story by renowned author Elmore Leonard, who before shifting to crime novels was a master of the western genre.
Bale plays Arizona rancher Dan Evans, a man trying to scratch out a living in the post-Civil War doldrums with his wife (Gretchen Mol) and two kids (Logan Lerman and Benjamin Petry). When the opportunity comes along to escort infamous convict Ben Wade (Russell Crowe) to the town of Contention, where Wade will board the 3:10 train to hell (aka Yuma) to be executed, Bale eagerly takes it as a way to support his needy family.
Wade's gang of outlaws poses a problem for the traverse to Contention, as does the dangerous terrain they're covering, which is closely guarded by Apache Indians. The leader of Wade's gang, sadistic Charlie Prince (the creepy Ben Foster) are willing to do anything and everything to ensure that Wade doesn't make it onto the fated Yuma train.
The film also has a good supporting cast, with Alan Tudyk (Firefly ) as the veterinarean-turned-doctor, a random cameo by Luke Wilson, and of course Peter Fonda, whose easy rider status is quickly diminished as a result of making a comment about Wade's mother. "Even bad men love their mommas," Crowe hastily replies.
Phedon Papamichael's cinematography does a good job with both the exterior and interior shots, focusing in particular on the character's eyes and well-lit rooms. There's the old saying that the eyes are a window into the soul, and in the case of Charlie Prince, it's made quite clear that he doesn't have one.
The western has long been due for a revival, and James Mangold (Walk The Line, Identity) does it justice here. It's a genre picture to be sure, but there is a hard-bitten quality to it that puts it above just another genre exercise. Mangold focuses in particular on the atypical relationship between Wade and Evans, who by the film's close turn out to have more respect for each other as men than either had imagined.
