Kick-Ass

Let's look back and consider the last few years as far as comic-book movies are concerned: mostly competent adaptations (most of the Spider-Man an X-Men series), some excellent ones (Iron Man, for example) and a few that transcend the genre: Watchmen, Batman Begins, and especially The Dark Knight. The last three could be considered more or less successful attempts at deconstructing the most important myths of the comic-book hero.  After deconstructing the genre, why not take a stab at reconstructing it also?

Kick-Ass is based on a brilliant (although not fantastically original) premise by Mark Millar, brilliantly illustrated by John Romita, Jr. Instead of thinking from the outside in, as in a world full of super-heroes and villains, Kick-Ass is thought up the other way around. Why hasn't anybody tried to be a super-hero in real life? "They'd be dead in like, a day" replies the movie. Dave Lizewski (played by Aaron Johnson) decides it'd be the most natural thing in the world, orders a diving suit, and after donning it becomes the titular character. He's got no training, no special skills, just a lot of guts and a good heart. Unfortunately those are hardly sufficient, as he is brutally beaten the first time he actually tries to fight crime. What seemed to be a light-hearted comedy then suddenly takes a turn for the brutal, rated "R" (for awesome) romp, that's as genre savvy as it is fun.

Kick-Ass soon encounters other "heroes" (the term should be used extremely lightly when discussing most masked people in the movie), Bid Daddy, the ever fantastic Nicholas Cage (whose quirky Adam West-like take on his character is memorable), his daughter, Hit Girl, and the aptly-named Red Mist (who's all smoke and mirrors).  Hit Girl is portrayed by Chloë Grace Moretz in a star-making performance, her relentless energy carrying each and every scene, no matter who's in it. You'll remember her and her character long after you've forgotten everything else about the movie. Which is not to say that it's forgettable, because that's far from the truth. Mark Strong is also unforgettable as the "bad guy", bringing life to a character that in the comics is bland. 

The source-material is dark, violent, and is much more intelligent than it lets on, hiding sharp commentaries about how deranged someone actually should be to hide behind a mask and fight evildoers behind panels upon panels of the old "ultra violence". The movie does a good job at adapting it for the silver screen, improving in some areas, but actually toning it down (!) in others. It's a shame, because it results in a story that sometimes feels a little too optimistic, while still avoiding major pitfalls hidden in most movies of the like (no tired clichés here). I won't give them away (read the books!), but  had the producers and writers kept the darker elements, Kick-Ass would have surely ascended to cult-status. The same general message is portrayed, but detractors might say pointing it out would be pushing it. It's not, and said detractors were probably nit-picking just for the sake of it. I can see them, all "that's not possible" this and "that's sick and inhuman" that, while the rest of us are grinning madly at what transpires on the screen.
 
Kick-Ass carries itself with aplomb, and acts like it's the only one in the room worth looking at, the cool kid that everybody actually likes. One might think that it's a step backwards for a genre that's growing up, but consider Kick-Ass its coming-of-age party. What's the point of being mature and serious if you can't have a little fun once in a while?

9/10 Stefan

The Marshall Mathers LP

"This is another Public Service Announcement, brought to you, in part, by Slim Shady. Slim Shady does not give a fuck what you think. If you don't like it, you can suck his fucking cock. Little did you know, upon purchasing this album, you have just kissed his ass. Slim Shady is fed up with your shit, and he's going to kill you."
 

The above lines open Eminem's "The Marshall Mathers LP", and compared to the rest of the album, actually seem peaceful, tame, and mild-mannered. It's the fastest selling solo album ever, a landmark achievement in hip-hop, and one of the most controversial things ever put on tape.

"Kill you" is a disturbing (and I promise not to use that word regarding every song on this album) warning Eminem waves in our faces. A slick beat allows him to explain that if he "can't rap about coke no more", he'll kill, rape, take drugs, and spit it in their faces: "Oh, now he's raping his own mother, abusing a whore/snorting coke, and we gave him the Rolling Stone cover?". He's cold and psychotic, not to be trifled with.  After that first song , one might think he's all flash and no fire, no substance to his shocking rhymes. 

They'd be wrong, because "Stan" follows, a song everybody knew but few really understood (that label could actually fit Eminem perfectly as an artist). It's an incredibly tight narrative, that descends into the psyche of eponymous, mad, obsessive fan that identifies himself with Slim. He writes him letters that start out as normal and end as nightmare-inducing. It showcases Eminem's ability to change his voice, his perfect cadence and the fact that he understands us as fans, creating a scary caricature of anyone who's ever had an obsession. This song is also the first, and so far only reason anybody's ever heard of Dido, her suave voice balancing out the madness.

"Who knew" is a slap in the face of everybody that ever said that music is responsible for violence's pervasiveness nowadays. He laughs at people who tell him to sing without swearing constantly ("Oh - you want me to watch my mouth, how?/Take my fuckin eyeballs out, and turn em around?"), and throws their accusations against them ("But don't blame me when lil' Eric jumps off of the terrace/You shoulda' been watchin' him - apparently you ain't parents"). It's obvious he's pulling people's legs here, probably laughing like a maniac every time somebody accuses of corrupting the mind of the youth.

"The way I am" was the song that dispelled every doubt people might have had about the young rapper's talent. Eminem's flow is untouchable, and lyrically, he's at a legendary level on this song. It's a big middle finger pointed at everybody else, yelling his thoughts with an almost subconscious power (And all of this controversy circles me /And it seems like the media immediately points a finger at me /So I point one back at 'em/But not the index or the pinky or the ring or the thumb/It's the one you put up when you don't give a fuck /When you won't just put up with the bullshit they pull/Cause they full of shit too). Eminem gives everybody hell, whether they deserve it or not here. "Think twice before ever criticizing your favorite artist" is the moral here.
The next song is more light-hearted, treating all the imitations that came along after him, a whole lot of celebrities, and proving to be a chart-topper (even if it was written as the exact opposite). He rips Pamela Anderson, Christina Aguilera, and most memorably Will Smith ("Will Smith don't gotta cuss in his raps to sell records/well, I do. So fuck him, and fuck you too."), and prophesizes that there's a little Slim Shady in all of us. Truth be told, haven't we all wanted to tell everybody who's made it big a thing or two?

In "I'm back", Eminem is especially cynical, and finds some of his favorite targets over the years (Christopher Reeve, N'Sync and others). He's treading on thin ice, with a reference to the Columbine Massacre (that's censored even on the uncensored version of the album), psychopaths, and addressing rumors that he had sex with Jennifer Lopez. Any other artist would have been considered a lunatic. Eminem did all of this with so much panache, people embraced him as  a genius, and with lyrics as scary-good as these, who's there to argue?
"Marshall Mathers" is the most underrated song on the album, an eye-opening story told through a clenched jaw, that pities music in general, his new-found fame, and the hypocrisy it brought. It also starts, and ends a beef with Insane Clown Posse, and is complementary to "Stan". After listening to it a few times, you can't help but feel sorry for the guy ("Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?").

Out of the final few songs, "Bitch Please II" stands out as the one of the best group efforts on the album, and probably is the most memorable W.C.-Jam of the last years, with Eminem being the best of the bunch (Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg and Xzibit). "Kim" follows, a brutal mock-murder of his then-wife, a song that will remain in history as the most strange, paranoid, and disgusting love-letter ever. "Under the influence" is a fantastic song for D12, Eminem acting as a deranged conductor to his own take on the tired "boy-band" concept he so happily smashed on this record. It's quotable line for line, as is the last song, "Criminal". On these two, he dispels any doubts: he's the bad guy, and he loves it, for better or worse.

I was 9 years old when I first bought and even though I only recently fully understood just how fascinatingly sick it is, I was still mesmerized. People listen to Eminem without even thinking about the lyrics and that's a shame. They nod their heads to murders, rapes, and hate. It's not the beats (although they help), it's Eminem's undeniable talent. This album feels like a train-wreck, an accident, something that you shouldn't like listening to, but are compelled to. It's so vulgar and profane, no fully uncensored version exists. It's bloody, and bloody brilliant."The Marshall Mathers LP" is one of the best albums of all time, created by the most talented guy of his generation, at his peak. Eminem knows this, and juggles between fact and fiction, in creating the most fascinating character we've ever witnessed in music: himself.

10/10 Stefan

Room on Fire

Following up to an amazing first album is a daunting task for any band who's made it big on their first try. The Strokes were facing one such task in 2003 when they launched their sophomore effort "Room on Fire", because comparisons to their landmark "Is This It" were inevitable. It's hard not to compare the two albums: both have eleven songs, both run approximately the same, and both are largely about the same things. Consider the band first, though. A laid-back, young, brash assortment of "garage-rock-revivalists", that surely were having the time of their lives. It's a stretch to expect a great deal of change (musically speaking) from guys like these. But if it's not broken, don't fix it, right?

The Strokes are ever ironic, and so is the album's first track, opening with another rhetorical question, a la "Is this it". "What Ever Happened?" jumps between romantic musings and more or less subtle jabs at critics ("Did they offend us and they want it to sound new?"), while being catchy all at once, no small task. The second track, "Reptilia" gives the album its name ("The room is on fire as she's fixing her hair"), and Casblancas yells his lungs out about "not trying hard enough", and it feels as though The Strokes aren't even breaking a sweat. The themes approached by the band in their debut are still here: "Automatic stop" is about a failed relationship, featuring the staccato guitar riffs that were ubiquitous in most alternative rock albums of the time (if you're sick of them already, blame not The Strokes, but all the imitators).

The Strokes deserve credit on this one: even songs about sad attempts at reaching the past are catchy as hell (what song up to here has not been?), "12:51" for example (with lyrics such as "The world is shutting out...for us. We were tense for sure, But we was confident... ").For the band, it appears life should be taken with a pinch of salt, especially when it's hard, or sad. This optimism feels like a breath of fresh air after the avalanche of angsty rock music from so-called "emotional" bands that came after. "You talk way too much" is a blast, one that makes up for any lost energy while keeping that ironic tone, always hovering between serious and laugh out loud moments ("You talk way too much/It's only the end").

"Between love and hate" is again about a failed relationship, and sometimes I wonder whether Casablancas has approached this particular subject one time too many. It only takes a chord or two to bring me back, because it's just too much fun to matter. "Meet me in the bathroom" is an obvious shout-out to their first album, and by this time listeners must have realized that "Room on fire" can be the soundtrack to mostly everybody's teenage years, and only a band a few years removed from adolescence can reignite that elusive spirit. The Strokes, it seems, can capture lightning in a bottle, and sell it back to us.

The melancholy "Under Control" exudes feels infectious, and is one of the few tracks this band has produced that feels like a confession, but it's not pathetic in the least. It feels more like a pat on a shoulder after realizing some things are impossible no matter how much you want them to be true. So even if "You are young, darling", it's only " For now, but not for long". You'd be hard pressed to find a more descriptive evocation of youth, just ask someone who's no longer young.

Taking the lyrics form "The way it is", and putting them on a slow ballad tune would result in a blueprint for all the James Blunt wannabes that kept on popping up these last few years like mushrooms after rain. Lyrics like that have no place being yelled around, it doesn't feel right for any serious musician. Serious is not an entry in The Strokes' dictionary, at least not in the traditional sense ("Without humor or expression of happiness; grave in manner or disposition; earnest; thoughtful; solemn."), and their energy is viral. No other band could have pulled off an album like this, not like this. "The end has no end" is almost schizophrenic, with disjointed lyrics, but is quotable almost line for line ("Said I can do a lot of things, but I can't do that/Two steps forward, then three steps back"). It's reminiscent of "Hard To Explain", in that you need to listen to it for a few times before actually understanding what they meant. The final song is a distillation of everything that came before it: it's a song about failing (with a title like "I can't win", that comes as no surprise), but not caring about the vicissitudes life throws in front of you.

If you compare "Room On Fire" to "Is This It", you'll surely feel it comes up short. But that would mean you have not been paying attention, because it's not about that. It never was. It's about being young even if you're not anymore, about smiling when you should frown, about looking fate in the eye and laughing. Some people can't even say those things, let alone do them. The Strokes do it with the ease a child plays with his cubes, and maybe that's the crux of their legacy: no matter how hard, they made it seem so fucking easy.

10/10 Stefan