documentary | Heartbreaking Bravery

October 9, 2015

Junun (Film Review)

Over the course of the past year, there have been several hints dropped that this site would begin to integrate more film coverage into it’s regular day-to-day presentation of current releases in music. While film coverage will see an expanded role in the coming months, a music-oriented film premiere seemed to be the perfect place to set that slight change into motion. So, thanks to a generous offer from the excessively talented Nina Corcoran, I collected myself and dove into the heart of the New York Film Festival for the premiere of Paul Thomas Anderson’s Junun.

In the film world’s equivalent of a surprise release, many were taken aback when the project was unveiled a few months ago. For a director that previously averaged roughly four years between feature projects, the two year turnaround from The Master to Inherent Vice was deeply impressive. In tacking a third film onto that production rate just a year later, the director was nearing the realm of the miraculous. However, while Junjun‘s certainly bold, it’s very nature eschews the majority of what comprises Anderson’s fictional narratives- including an actual narrative.

The film itself runs for 54 minutes, in which Anderson presents a loving document of the recording sessions for a collaborative album featuring the considerable talents of Jonny Greenwood (the Radiohead guitarist and Anderson’s recently established go-to choice for score work) and noted Israeli composer Shye Ben Tzur. The duo travels to Rajasthan, India and pairs with a formidable collective of musicians who have dubbed themselves the Rajasthan Express.

Viewers are offered very little in the way of context or introduction (apart from a scene-setting title card), as the film immediately dives into a long, unedited take of the musicians committing sounds to record. Filmed from the center of the circle the musicians form, the camera continuously, deliberately swivels and occasionally falters in its motions, betraying the film’s limited resources (the film’s extremely small crew ran into customs issues with the equipment) while adding a surprising amount of depth and character.

After that initial sequence establishes the film’s tone, the ensuing footage offers up a snapshot of a process that serves as a (possibly unwitting) vessel for some much larger thematic subtext, most importantly the seamless merging of vastly different cultures. Junun takes great care in allowing this element of the film to thrive, occasionally offering vibrant (and fairly brief) asides that touch on the musicians’ daily struggles outside of their makeshift Mehrangarh Fort studio; “No shower. No toilet. Full power.” becomes one of the film’s most memorable rallying cries.

In weaving in and out of the studio, Anderson’s able to provide a palpable sense of place that heightens the organic feel of the recording process, which is sidetracked multiple times by a shortage of electricity (a recurring difficulty that provides Junun with some of its most human- and humorous- moments). It also provides a slight contextual illustration of the larger environment that housed the recording, an element that manifests in the music- which is strong enough to spark a near-religious experience. All of those thematic undercurrents collide in the film’s standout sequence, which makes expert use of Nigel Godrich’s drone and produces some startling aerial footage of rooftop bird-feeding, all while a memorably serene, guitar-driven piece elevates the film’s most atmospheric moment.

Several times throughout the course of Junjun, the compositions are framed in a way that manages to both be technically refined and relatively unobtrusive, relegating both filmmaker and viewer to what essentially amounts to an awed bystander. It’s an effect that’s utilized to maximum potential in the scenes where Anderson (or the select few other DP’s) are separated into exterior/interior positions, allowing for a fuller scope of the proceedings. In that separation, Anderson manages to find yet another complementary angle that effectively renders him another part of the artistic equation.

By the time the film’s wrapped, all of the key players have been granted their long-awaited introductions in closing slides and– true to the film– none of them were given a more significant slot than any of their collaborators. In underscoring the film’s thesis sequence, once again providing a setting where everyone’s on equal footing, Junun injected its closure with both gravity and elegance, allowing Anderson a full capitalization on an admirable statement.

After the film’s screening, Anderson sat down with Kent Jones– the director of the festival– and shared a deep appreciation for the 1960 classic Jazz On A Summer’s Day, a film which similarly eschewed traditional narrative in favor of an approach more suited to a diarist. In sharing anecdotes about the film’s process and on-the-fly evolution, Anderson was able to paint a compelling portrait of a project characterized by determination and a DIY ethos- which tends to be the art that’s most worthy of praise.

Watch a 2014 performance of “Alchemy” below and catch the film on MUBI, where it will be premiering online at 3 AM EST.

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July 30, 2015

All Dogs – Skin (Stream)

Depending on the releases, some days are made easy and- while the reprieve is welcome- it can be disheartening. Then there are days like today, which offer a frustration spurred by more than a few releases being too good to settle on a definitive feature. For a large portion of the planning that went into this post, the intended feature was going to go to Ought’s most recent blistering, insistent masterwork, “Men For Miles“. Even in those stages, the song had competition in the likes of Nabil’s jaw-dropping GoPro interactive design that acted as the moody clip for Foals’ fiery “Mountain At My Gates“.

It wasn’t as if that trio was without competition, either. Deer Tick’s gorgeous “Grandfather Song“, Faux Ferocious’ scuzzy “Nowhere To Go“, Team Spirit’s pulsating “Takin’ My Time (Never Enough)“, Doubting Thomas Cruise Control’s frenetic “Lenny Bruce“, Birthmark’s slow-building “Find Yourself” would have constituted an impressive field on their own accord. Elevating the difficulty was the fact two outstanding unique features surfaced in the form of an engrossing Tickle Torture documentary and a full recording of a recent set from Colin Bares (the songwriter behind The Weasel, Marten Fisher project), whose responsible for some of the year’s finest songs.

Even the full streams had a great day, with excellent offerings from bratty scuzz-punks Fox Face, the lo-fi neurotics in Ego, the punk-indebted basement poppers in Vamos, and the increasingly fascinating (and darkly tinted) world of Black Thumb. Rounding the day out were compelling music videos from Wild Ones, Oddisee, and Living Decent. Even with all of that taken into consideration, though, the day still ultimately belonged to All Dogs.

Having just released a surefire song of the year candidate in “That Kind of Girl“, the band was presented with the unenviable task of selecting the follow-up track for their forthcoming record’s rollout campaign. A lot of different modes can be considered (and ultimately, selected) for this slot and “Skin” seems to fall into one of the trickier categories to pull off: the song that demonstrates the record’s range and scope. In the past, those songs have tended to fall more towards the acute version of sophomore slump than anything else but “Skin” hurdles those traps with no shortage of grace to all but ensure Kicking Every Day will be among 2015’s best releases.

All Dogs have never been shy about finding something beautiful in damage, something that’s been continuously driven home by the frequently devastating lyrics of Maryn Jones (who’s also a member of site favorites Saintseneca and Yowler, the latter being Jones’ solo outfit). “Skin”, over the course of it’s slow-building five minutes and change, finds Jones grappling with some of the prevailing themes throughout her discography: loneliness, self-doubt, resilience, self-sabotage, and quiet redemption. All of which continue to feel deeply personal, nearing a point of voyeurism that only grows more nerve-wracking as the song progresses.

Elevating the feeling of tension is the scintillating dynamic angle that All Dogs uncovered when transitioning their writing process to a full-band ordeal following the addition of guitarist Nick Harris. Every conceivable element that made the band so great to begin with gets amplified by this approach and the dividends are already paying off in startling fashion. The interplay between Jones’ and Harris’ guitar work is increasingly nuanced and the rhythm work’s even more emotive than it’s been in the past, contributing to some newfound atmospherics that complement the band to perfection.

Looking at the sheer magnitude of “Skin” in comparison to anything found on the band’s debut 7″ (which was reviewed in the sixth post to ever run on Heartbreaking Bravery) is revelatory. At the level the band’s currently operating, they’ve unlocked a seemingly boundless arsenal of styles to achieve increasingly varied effects. From the subtle, interlocking post-punk guitar work to the bruised euphoria of the chorus, “Skin” is a jaw-dropping indication of the band’s ever-expanding capabilities. Throw in an earnest, beating heart at the core and All Dogs’ future suddenly looks intimidatingly bright.

All that’s left at this point is to find out whether the band can top perfection.

Listen to “Skin” below and pre-order Kicking Every Day from Salinas here.

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March 16, 2015

Screaming Females (Documentary Review, Stream)

Since this site resumed regular coverage, there’s been a few excellent music-focused documentaries that have earned coverage. Girlpool, Pops Staples, The Epoch, and Butch Walker were the central subjects of all the preceding 2015 docs but tonight’s film brings Screaming Females‘ more recent paths to light. It’s a definitive capture of one of this generation’s most exciting bands as they continue their unlikely ascension. Before focusing all of the attention on the Lance Bangs-directed portrait of the perennial site favorites, it’s worth bringing up a few other great items to have recently surfaced as well. For the full streams, there was 100%’s hauntingly minimalist It gets darker and, as always, the newest additions to NPR’s vaunted First Listen series (Laura Marling’s Short Movie and JEFF The Brotherhood’s Wasted On The Dream are particularly memorable). Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly was also just released a week ahead of schedule and it seems set to continue elevating his increasingly impressive career. All of those things are worth spending time getting to know but they’re not what this post’s about- that distinction, as stated, goes to Lance Bangs’ diaristic Screaming Females short.

One thing that Screaming Females brings into sharp focus over its two-part installment is guitarist/vocalist Marissa Paternoster’s battle with an illness that became so severe that it forced the band to cancel an array of tour dates in support of Ugly. Around the mid-point of the documentary, Paternoster is in visible pain when she recalls the events, all the while remaining admirably steadfast in her convictions, never wanting to let anyone down. Paternoster was eventually diagnosed with fibromyalgia in addition to her mononucleosis. Never has their commitment to a DIY ethos been delivered with more clarity than it is in those harrowing minutes. While Screaming Females finds its voice in the opening minutes, with bassist King Mike providing a short, impact-heavy, list for why the band plays as many shows as they do. As the film progress, the band’s natural rapport cuts through the group vignettes like a knife; this is a band that clearly enjoys each other’s company, which is endlessly important. Memories, both painful and entertaining, are recounted, while the future’s left wide open.

In approximately 20 minutes, Lance Bangs (who assembled everything masterfully, with a well-informed eye) manages to place the kind of spotlight on Screaming Females that they deserve, emphasizing the exact traits that cause me to continue to rally behind this band with no reservations. It’s a committed tale of a dedicated band- one who refuses to lose sight of the intangible elements that built their career in its earliest stages. There’s a genuine honesty present in Screaming Females that’s impossible to ignore, providing a crystallized account of how and why the band operates. Determination and passion are present in nearly every frame and, as each new piece of information is given, it’s abundantly clear that this trio of people are hell-bent on continuing to pursue the things they love most with no hesitation. In the end, the documentary doesn’t just wind up being heartfelt but it also succeeds in being legitimately inspirational. We could all learn a thing or two from this kind of passion.

Watch Screaming Females below and order Rose Mountain (the band’s finest work to date) from Don Giovanni here.

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February 27, 2015

Girlpool: Things Are OK (Documentary Review, Stream)

Over the course of the past few months, there have been hints towards this site expanding its coverage in new directions. One of those will be an emphasis on film and film coverage, much of which may branch away from things with a decidedly musical pull- but it’d just feel wrong to not use one of those films as a starting point. Since 2015’s started there h, ave been three outstanding music documentaries, the short-form Pops Staples “Don’t Lose This”, the monumentally affirming Richard Gin-directed long-player The Epoch Is __., and the Cory McConnell-helmed piece of magic that gets tonight’s feature: Girlpool: Things Are OK. All three are deserving of as much attention and affection as anyone can generate but what sets Things Are OK apart from the rest of its early-year companions is its sense of craft.

As central figures go, Cleo Tucker and Harmony Lebel-Tividad are inherently compelling central figures. When they’re on screen (which is for the majority of the film), they’re as brashly honest as their music suggests, never shying away from self-examination or pointed commentary. McConnell likely had a lot of great material to work with and the fact that Things Are OK wound up coming across as so complete in just over 25 minutes is a fairly astonishing indicator of the director’s raw talent and deft touch (especially in terms of composition). Utilizing small ambient movements for maximum effect, like creating a sense of urgency with the travel shots to establish the momentum of both the film and its compassionately-portrayed subjects, McConnell manages to turn this into a subtle filmmaking showcase without ever impeding the film’s central aim: to provide a definitive portrait of an incredibly important band in the early stages of their career.

While the majority of the film is composed of the band’s genuinely stunning live performance, when it allows itself to switch gears to provide those performances a narrative by presenting an exacting portrayal of Tucker and Lebel-Tividad’s psyches, it takes on an unexpectedly emotional pull. Girlpool, at their very best, cut to the hearts of their listeners with exacting precision, conjuring up some fierce emotions (in a manner not too dissimilar from Big Star at their most devastatingly vulnerable). It’s one of the core reasons why this site continues to loft praise at the band and it’s something that Things Are OK manages to make a focal point without ever overselling that particular aspect of the band. It’s also worth noting that Things Are OK chooses its vantage points carefully, allowing a cautiously brave elevation of Girlpool through cleverly-constructed cinematography (which is consistently gorgeous throughout the film’s duration), until they finally appear larger-than-life in their last performance, offering nothing but grace notes until the film’s quiet conclusion. It’s a fitting tribute to the duo, who continue to impress, deeply, as their career progressively blooms into something that’s already threatening to be unforgettable.

Watch Girlpool: Things Are OK below and buy their powerful self-titled EP from Wichita Recordings here.

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September 15, 2014

Medicine – Move Along – Down the Road (Stream)

Another day, another string of great releases to cover before moving on to the day’s main event. Among them: a full stream of the sublime split 12″ from Joanna Gruesome and Trust Fund, a full stream of Terry Malts’ hard-charging Insides EP, and a characteristically incendiary performance from White Lung that also doubles as the official video for Deep Fantasy highlight “I Believe You“. Even with all of those being more than worthy of their own individual features, there was one song that surfaced today which managed to make a surprisingly large impression: Medicine’s “Move Along – Down the Road”.

Ever since Medicine’s surprise comeback record last year, To the Happy Few, they’ve been forcing their audience to re-adjust their expectations. Not that this is a bad thing; they’ve blown nearly all of those expectations out of the water. That trend looks like it’ll continue with their upcoming record Home Everywhere. After the multi-color swirl of lead-off single “Turning” suggested the band might be indulging their more psychedelic impulses, their most recent look at Home Everywhere confirms that with an even greater authority. “Move Along – Down the Road” is a near-claustrophobic cacophony that plays like a pissed-off, alternate world version of Andorra-era Caribou. In short: it’s a thrilling, fascinating, whirlwind of a song that hints towards Home Everywhere becoming one of 2014’s most widely celebrated releases. Medicine seems to be emphasizing their more cinematic sensibilities this time around and it suits their left-field shoegaze to tailored perfection.

Listen to “Move Along – Down the Road” below and pre-order Home Everywhere from iTunes here (all pre-orders will including the accompanying soundtrack to shoegaze documentary “Beautiful Noise“).

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April 21, 2014

Watch This: Vol. 21

Well, it’s already been too long since the last one of these- the most personal installment of the series to ever have run– went live. This week’s all about making up for lost time which is why between this posting and Sunday, there will be three Watch This pieces posted. It’s been nearly a month since new material was posted so this volume will be dedicated to covering that space. There were more than a few videos to choose from due to the delay but the five below, whether they be a full set, short documentary, or just a single song, were five of the videos that most closely adhere to the spirit of this place. So kick off the new week in style, crank up the volume, and Watch This.

1. Tacocat (Full KEXP Session)

Tacocat’s recent self-titled record, NVM. is already shaping up to be one of the definitive 2014 summer records, filled to the brim with sunshine-inflected basement pop. In this recent KEXP session, the band plays four songs and enthusiastically responds to a fair few interview sections in an incredibly winning middle segment. All of the songs are played loose and with a sense of purpose. Never anything less than a delight, this round of songs for KEXP is just another notch in the band’s increasingly impressive belt.

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2. Speedy Ortiz – Silver Spring (Allston Pudding)

It didn’t take long for Speedy Ortiz to be thrown into the driver’s seat of the current 90’s revival crop. Major Arcana made it incredibly easy by distilling seemingly everything great from the alternative culture of that time period into something that was undeniably modern. This also allowed Sadie Dupuis a platform to tear down oppressive institutions and schools of thought, which is something that’s (dishearteningly) still sorely needed. Importantly, that also kept the band in the public eye and was likely one of the reasons for their continuously elevating success. Another reason? Their live show, which plays perfectly into their aesthetic- feeling over technicality had been lacking as of late, so praise be to Speedy Ortiz for trying their hand at restoring the balance. This version of “Silver Spring” should make just about anyone understand.

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3. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – Blameless (KEXP)

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah have remained an anomaly by virtue of the band’s undeniably erratic trajectory. When they were introduced to the world at large, they were at the forefront of a newly-emphasized class of buzz bands that were supported by hype and high expectations. After their debut record won them a vastly expanded following, they disappeared for a while before returning with what many thought was a lackluster sophomore effort. Retreating again after that, the band went through same changes, Alec Ounsworth started making solo music, and seemed fated to fade into a distant memory or relative obscurity. Now, Ounsworth is back, playing songs out solo under the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah moniker- and if this utterly gorgeous performance of new song “Blameless” is any indication, it looks like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah just might be coming up a whole lot more in conversation again.

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4. Pookie & the Poodlez (Jam in the Van)

Another year, another Burgerama, and another of what will hopefully be one of many more Jam in the Vans from that festival. Pookie & the Poodlez (which is essentially just the Nobunny touring band switched around) rip through three gleefully obnoxious basement pop rippers. It’s all in the spirit of fun and fits perfectly into the Burger aesthetic, serving up a near-definitive representation of what kind of weirdness the label’s all about. Insanely catchy and absolutely carefree, it’s enough to spark hope for many more Burgerama Jam in the Van’s.

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5. RIP 285 Kent (Pitchfork)

Definitely coming in as an outlier for the Watch This series, this Pitchfork documentary’s earned itself an inclusion on the basis of necessity; this is one of the most important short-form discourses on what a DIY space can mean to a community and what it can become. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a major area or the smallest town, there are valid points littered throughout RIP 285 Kent. Yes, there may be some esoteric language in terms of location and development pace but the underlying messages are ones worth noting. Additionally, it’s a close examination of a DIY space that was important to a scene that was important. Everyone from Deafheaven to Lodro to DIIV to Fucked Up get featured via live clips and a great deal of insight is offered from everyone who’s directly involved/responsible (like Ric Leichtung) and anyone who was tangentially involved (like Dan Deacon). It’s also a reminder to celebrate the things worth celebrating while they’re around. It’s worth several watches and bookmarking for future reference. All of those reasons are why it’s earned its spot as the closer for this 21st installment of Watch This.

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Tag: documentary