2013-08-18

This Train Is On Track — The Lone Ranger (2013)


     The short version of this review is this:

     The Lone Ranger made a terrible western because it was too smart, too socially-conscious, and too well-done a movie to be a western, and you should see it on that basis.

     The longer version is as follows:

     It's no secret that the western genre is dying a slow and painful death.  The few recent successes which have been wrought by stories with elements of westerns in them inadvertently became indicators of how irrelevant the western genre has become, because they were successful largely been a result of the other elements they used:  The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. used science-fiction and steam-punk elements to build its cult following; There Will Be Blood and Deadwood were American Gothic stories about the barbarity upon which both capitalism and American culture are founded; Django Unchained intentionally tore the western genre apart by highlighting the racism upon which typical western locales built their culture and economy, and was billed by its director as a "southern" to put distance between it and the genre which it unflinchingly criticises; and when Joss Whedon wanted to make a western, he went to the length of setting it in space* so that someone would watch…

… and in doing so, implicitly conceded that sending the entire genre on a one-way trip to another solar system would improve its standing with most viewers.

     This lack on interest appears to be wrought by the genre's lack of resonance with modern audiences.  Westerns aren't easy for modern people to relate to — they use simple language, gloss over the genocide/enslavement of entire ethnic groups, wax nostalgic about an era in which widespread illiteracy and a paucity of indoor plumbing was the order of the day, and glorify guns.  None of those attributes are exactly selling points in this era — everyone in North America can read today, racial tensions are softened somewhat by official multiculturalism in Canada and a growing demographic of multi-racial households in the U.S.A. (making up 15% of the population at last estimate!) today, smartphones and toilets are now ubiquitous, and private gun ownership has become a useless liability rather than a necessary asset.  With the changes in North America's culture during the last several decades making the western genre obsolete from most people's perspectives, it doesn't attract viewers on television, comic books written in that genre are mostly ignored, and western movies have "tanked" more often than they've succeeded in recent years

     With all of that in mind, I cringed when I heard that there was a re-make of The Lone Ranger in the works.  It's one thing to use tropes of an obsolete genre as a backdrop for something else, but it's another thing entirely to try to revive a franchise which was a cornerstone of said obsolete genre for most of a frelling century — If they wanted to polish scraps of junk, I thought, they could have found something with a little less rust on it.

That train is going nowhere, is what I was saying.

     I was pleasantly surprised to find that my cringing turned out to be completely unnecessary.  When I actually plunked down into a cinema chair to see The Lone Ranger, I got the only kind of surprise one should have to endure — a pleasant one.  The Lone Ranger deftly avoided the cesspool which westerns embody in the same way that successful westerns always do these days:  by not staying true to the flawed, poorly-written source material from which it came.  In fact, it's not even accurate to say that the writers and director deviated from the source material:  it would be more accurate to say that they treated the source as ore to be mined for a small amount of useful material, and then cast something sparkly from the refined end-product — something sparkly which bore no resemblance to the muddy hillsides the writers had to dig out to get the refined end-product.

     Many people were worried that this version of Tonto was going to be the same slightly-racist caricature whom he was in the original radio series.  I can confirm that this worry (which was questionable at best, since Johnny Depp is both proud of his Cherokee descent and wields more clout in Hollywood than director Gore Verbinski does) was entirely unfounded.  In fact, the overall portrayal of the First Nations in The Lone Ranger was stimultaneously more human, more sympathetic, and more dignified than in some documentaries I've seen.  Depp's Tonto was as much an eccentric "black sheep" as any of Depp's other roles, but the explanation given for his eccentricities in the eventually-revealed backstory made Tonto even more sympathetic and easy to relate to rather than paint the Natives as weird — and strengthened the plot in the process.

     The bluecoats — who are often among the heroes of westerns, and usually for the same reasons that they are cast as adversaries by Native and Canadian storytellers — were not portrayed as unsullied heroes in this movie.  Quite the contrary, the cavalry leaders who were shown were very human — they were corrupt, they were played for fools by smarter characters, and they felt the guilt of the crimes they committed instead of celebrating them.  The blood on their hands — and their horror at it — was shown very, very clearly.

     The movie's protrayal of women was (relatively) sophisticated, and eschewed most of the sexism which is prevalent in westerns.  The genre is notorious for female characters being little more than merely either prey or decoration for male characters , but The Lone Ranger goes in the other direction for the most part:  Helena Bonham Carter's character is both a sex worker and a more assertive personality than most of the male characters in the film; and the damsel-in-distress part portrayed by Ruth Wilson was at least filled out into a fully-developed character, rather than be left at the stock caricature which movie-goers often have to suffer the presence of. 

     The Lone Ranger himself was not really the hero of this story, and this Lone Ranger is where The Lone Ranger left the most of its raw source material on the slag-heap.  Armie Hammer's Lone Ranger was still a blonde, white, middle-class all-American boy named John Reid, but with this being a reboot which re-cast the character's origin story, the similarity to previous iterations of the character ended there.  This John Reid was naïve and overly-idealistic when he was introduced, completely ignorant of how backwards Texan culture was at the time in which the movie was set.  For most of the movie, Tonto was almost dragging him along his path to hero-dom (when not saving him from predicaments which he got himself into as a result from his naïveté).  This was an incredibly welcome and refreshing change from the past — the titular Lone Ranger was a too-perfect hero in past incarnations, and seeing him re-forged into a part with actual character development (and, finally, an explanation for his unreasonably-good marksmanship!) made this version of him worth watching.  More than that, because this Reid only gradually grew into the responsibilities which were thrust upon him by the movie's events, he was forced to come to terms with the fact that the real America falls far short of the ideals it preaches, and he came to understand that he would have to fight if he wanted to make those ideals a reality — and thus his development paralleled that of a modern-day blonde, white, middle-class all-American boy (I actually applauded in the cinema when I realised that).

     As for what genre this movie actually is, well…

     Was it a Western?  Not really.  It took an approach to the source material somewhere between that of a spoof and that of a critique — and this is what made it resonate as far as I was concerned.  What aspects of the western genre weren't brilliantly de-constructed during the film were actively mocked in a tongue-in-cheek manner, poor dialogue which the original radio and television series have turned into tropes was jokingly derided instead of being simply omitted, renditions of the characters were created which were actually memorable instead of being two-dimensional clichés — and the writing was very, very clever in its execution of this approach. 

     I realise that that does not tell you what genre(s) could have described this movie. 

     Okay, try this:  It was a very dramatic action flick set in the American Old West, which included a lot of cleverly-written social commentary (particularly during a scene in which Tonto was asked what crime he'd committed) and regular doses of slap-stick comedy where appropriate.  

     I realise that that does not tell you what genre(s) could have described this movie, either.  Okay, you've got me.  I can't tell you what genre best described this movie, because this movie straddled too many lines.  The important thing is that it was a very good film.


     Unfortunately, the first slate of reviewers didn't agree — they apparently hated The Lone Ranger based on the rough cuts they were shown, and consequently the movie is already on its way out of theatres without having been seen by most of the movie-going public.  I am very sorry that so many people were so grossly misled by so many of my colleagues, whose incompetence (unlike The Lone Ranger's franchise) is not likely to be corrected any time soon. 

     I strongly recommend that everyone rectify that when the DVD comes out on 2013-10-15.


* = in the process of doing this, Whedon inadvertently created something very close to "Wagon Train To The Stars" — much closer than Gene Roddenberry had had in mind when he used that phrase as part of a clever bit of "spin" (or, as it's more commonly known, "lying") to get NBC to produce STAR TREK, which Roddenberry was actually basing on C. S. Forester's Horatio Hornblower stories.  Two lessons can be drawn from this:  that lying pays; and that Mark Twain was correct about plagiarism.

2013-06-15

A Trek Into Darkness And Lens Flare — Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)




In short:  

     If you haven't seen Star Trek Into Darkness yet, do so. 



At length (and without spoilers):

     While Star Trek Into Darkness failed to meet the standard for writing set by Star Trek:  The Next Generation, it (like its 2009 predecessor) did match the bar set by Star Trek:  The Original Series in terms of plot, dialogue, and story.  It was also somewhat better than its predecessor in that it rectified the major problem I had with the 2009 film.   



     Star Trek Into Darkness does suffer from a few of the same problems which plagued its predecessor.  


     Unfortunately, the film's facing
was far too quick — and I say that based on post-movie conversations I had with other audience members, so it wasn't just me.  Critical scenes were misinterpreted by viewers in some cases:  one audience member was confused about a character's continued active presence after he appeared to have been killed, until it was explained that no, actually, in all the chaotic fighting he'd moved (probably while said audience member was in the middle of blinking), and that t'was another character entirely who suffered a case of fatal death; the way the movie jumped from a ships' departure to its arrival left the audience with the impression that two major planets, supposedly on the brink of all-out war with each other, were mere minutes' travel away from each other (which one would think would have taken things from on-the-brink-of to mired-in-the-abyss-of in very short order); dialogue was delivered so quickly that lines which explained major plot points and shed light on developing situations went completely unheard by some members of the audience — and was so terse that words which seasoned Trekkers should have understood without difficulty and references to The Original Series didn't register for some of the audience until they were pointed out post-film.  I'll be the first to agree that movies shouldn't drag, but neither should they move so quickly that viewers are forced to prop their eyelids open with toothpicks in order to avoid missing things.  

… seriously, the studio would not be remiss if they included a set of lid-locks with the DVD release.

     One problem which wasn't seen in the 2009 film was that this time around, Abrams' team forgot that some cool-sounding phrases are in use by real-word scientists to describe things which said scientists are trying to build in said real world.  A Mac Guffin which showed up in this film was referred to as a "cold-fusion device" by the characters — despite the fact that the device bore exactly zero similarities to the cold-fusion device as sought after by actual physicists.  For you aspiring script-writers in the audience, there are far better options than using the name of a real-world concept for a fictional device which behaves completely differently:  writers who were smart and motivated have been known to name fictional devices after off-screen characters, and found that doing so helped develop their fictional universe
(the Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine which showed up in Bungie's HALO games was a good example of that);  writers wanting to be clever could just call the device a Mac Guffin Device (which would either turn a work into a spoof or make it extremely meta);  and writers have been known to make up random, innocuous-sounding names for their fictional gadgets (an action Team Abrams themselves proved to be perfectly capable of undertaking when they wrote the "red matter" into the 2009 Star Trek, making their failure to do so in this movie all the more spectacular).  Any of those options will prevent the indignity of having to concede that the armies of science-fiction nerds e-mailing you to say "Oi!  That's not the correct phrase!" are correct, and that you are a fool for not having checked the internet to see what the phrase might be used for in the real world.

     Fortunately for viewers, the pacing and that one (admittedly significant) writing error are the only real problems with this film.



     The actors have nailed their parts  — in particular, Peter Weller and Benedict Cumberbatch excelled as the megalomaniacs whose sinister skulduggery and devious deceptions drove the plot. 

     The character development in this continuity is actually turning out to be superior to The Original Series in some respects, owing to the different real-world audiences which they're aimed at.  Kirk was always a jerk, but in this continuity he has good reason to have turned out worse, and was introduced to viewers at a much younger age than he was during the timeframe of The Original Series — giving the writers an opportunity to give him a much more pronounced arc of development
.  The character of Uhura (multi-lingual, skilled at co-ordinating missions, possessing knacks for both code-breaking and signals intelligence, and positively gifted with communications equipment) was introduced as a glorified receptionist when The Original Series launched in the 1960s, and writers needed to ramp up her role slowly in order to avoid alienating the viewers of that era.  This continuity, however, is being viewed by a generation which will be alienated if there aren't well-developed female characters in a movie — giving the writers an opportunity to use Uhura's interactions with this continuity's version of Kirk to showcase her smarts and spunk, and to build on that by bringing her to the forefront of affairs in this film.  The writers have leapt on both of those opportunities like Kirk on a naïve female ensign.

     The film opened with a bang (several, actually) and maintains a good level of intensity for its entire running length.  

     Lastly, the script is very good.  Team Abrams did a huge service to old fans by incorporating plot elements which were previously used by writers for Deep Space Nine and Enterprise, and using them to craft a story which hinged on ethics as much as it did on the characters.  The banter between the characters in this film reached the level of familial dialogue which will be familiar to everyone who's seen The Original Series, and which has always captured the viewers' attention — the more familiar they act with each other, the easier it is for the audience to invest in them emotionally, after all.  The ethical issues (how much should one risk to maintain one's principles?  when is it time to resort to the last resort?  how severe can one's actions be and still be worth executing?) loom large in the script, which I was pleased to see — I was not pleased that such issues were absent from the 2009 film, and seeing them brought back to the franchise with this film is a huge relief.



     Everything that was done correctly has brought Star Trek Into Darkness very close to being the sort of film which I hoped to see when I was told that the franchise was being re-booted.  I look forward to seeing the third installment of the franchise.



     ~ STEELCAVER 

     On The Web:

An Instant Of Divergence — Star Trek (2009)

     I originally wrote this review shortly after the theatrical release of the 2009 reboot of Star Trek.  With Star Trek Into Darkness having just been released, I decided it was time to dust it off and post it.



     I am as divided personally in my opinions about J.J. Abrams' Star Trek as the Trekkers'* community is collectively.

     On the one hand, there are a lot of things that J.J. Abrams did slightly wrong with his re-boot of the franchise:  Spock was a bit too emotional;  the pacing is far too quick (scenes of ships travelling between distant worlds were shot in such a way as to make it seem as if they were in flight for only a few minutes before arriving at their destination, which was incredibly jarring); the guy who played Kirk doesn't have the correct eye colour; 
a scene which provided a crucial explanation for major plot points was deleted from the theatrical release, leaving viewers puzzled until it the scene was leaked on-line (my thanks to whoever leaked it, and shame on J.J. Abrams for not ensuring it was included in the theatrical cut);  the security guard known as "Cupcake" displayed a level of professionalism so low that he should never have gotten posted to anything more prestigious than a freighter… which wasn't capable of warp… and which was assigned to haul ore from asteroids around in-system;  most significantly, the film failed to include any of the ethical discussions which endeared Star Trek to its fan base; and lastly, there was that other thing…

 
… the man clearly has a problem.


     That being said, there are many things that he did not just correctly, but well. 


     The concept of the film was a clever trick in many ways.  An event occurred in the original Trek time-line, after the conclusion of Voyager, which resulted in several persons being sent back in time — to a date prior to the beginning of The Original Series.  They were willing to alter history to achieve a goal (although in their defence, they only took that route after having their sanity compromised by years of torture — which, by the way, is covered in the deleted scene I mentioned).  Their actions caused a separate timeline to diverge from the original one (for those of you who aren't science-fiction fans, think of what happened in Back To The Future, and you'll understand).  That starting point gave Abrams a brand new continuity within which to work and significantly more creative freedom than he'd have had otherwise — his team neither had to completely ignore the original continuity to the point that calling his film Star Trek would be a misnomer, nor were they beholden to it in a way which would force them to merely remake the existing material.  It was very smart to take that route, as it allowed them to make alterations to the back-stories of several major characters without being accused of betraying the fans (well, for the most part).  I have to tip my hat to Abrams' team on that front.  

     The story itself holds up to the bar set for Star Trek stories by The Original Series (if not quite meeting the higher standard set by The Next Generation).  As I try to maintain a no-spoilers policy for my reviews, I won't go into further details.  


     The characters themselves are still fundamentally the same people as they were in The Original Series, even if their traits are expressed differently due to the changes in their back-story.  Spock is still a solid, stand-up guy.  Uhura is still spunky and smart.  McCoy is still a blunt-spoken, heart-on-his-sleeve country boy.  Chekov is still an eager whiz kid.  Pike is still reining the heart of a swashbuckler in with a sharp mind and seasoned experience.  Sulu is still cooly competent.  Kirk is still a jerk.  The acting from the actors who play the characters is pretty solid, and the casting is almost perfect — for the most part, the actors nailed the parts flawlessly.

     All in all, the film showed promise — in that it set up the rest of the new timeline in a way that built a solid foundation for future stories to be told in this timeline.  

     However, I'll be reserving my judgement on how well that foundation holds up over the next few films.  

     The entire point of science fiction is to ask "what if…?" and explore the possibilities implied by the answers.  Those discussions I mentioned earlier — the long in-depth philosophical discussions about ethics and principles — are consequently very important for science fiction, and their absence from this movie could be felt.  

     The absence of such discussions will become a sticking point for many fans.  If those discussions don't make an appearance in future films, then a lot of Trekkers may desert the new material and spend their money on new re-releases of the old series.

     That said, the film is still more than worth watching.   

     ~ STEELCAVER

* = yes, Trekkers.  The phrase "Trekkies" is only used by etymologically-challenged half-wits who haven't bothered to ask Trek fans what they call themselves.

     On The Web:

2013-06-10

Orphan Black's First Season




     At only ten episodes, the first season of Orphan Black was short by North American standards.  BBC America should note that we're used to 23-episode seasons on this side of the pond, not British-style eight-part series which are over after a few months of air-time, leaving viewers wondering where the rest of the show went.  However, the white-knuckle ride which Orphan Black took viewers on during its abbreviated run bundled enough material together for a full season, and leaves viewers gripping their seats.

     Orphan Black follows the story of a small-time hustler (i.e., a street criminal) named Sarah Manning, who abruptly (and bloodily) discovers that she is one of many: while her unique personality is her own, her physical body is one of many copies turned out as part of a very grand (and very illegal) experiment in human cloning — rolled off of an assembly line like a new car, visually indistinguishable from the rest.  Sarah's unexpected encounter brings her into contact with a loose-knit group of her fellow clones — each of whom has become aware of each other, and are trying to gather information on where they come from, what game they are part of, and who else is aware of them.  Watched by, and occasionally forced into interacting with, informants of the unnamed organisation which spawned and studies the clones, Sarah is also confronted with agents of an even more shadowy organisation: one formed by anti-cloning terrorists whose activities make the clones' lives even more dangerous — like, a-sniper-might-blow-you-away-without-warning dangerous. 

     The acting is — and I do not exaggerate here — exceptional.  Lead actor Tatiana Maslany became a woman of many faces within a few episodes as she portrayed the clones:  one a suburban soccer mom as mentally-unbalanced as only suburbanites can be; another a driven scientist; another a fashionista, panicked at her discovery; another driven insane by her upbringing in a Christian convent (which isn't a stretch.  Having been to Catholic school, I completely understand where that clone was coming from).  Maslany made the act of jumping between these diverse roles appear effortless — a task made more Herculean by storylines which see clones passing themselves off as each other in order to keep their endeavours afloat (you teenagers who've fantasized about cloning a spare one of yourself to write your exams have no idea what applications a doppelgänger could be used for by adult with child-custody issues).  Maslany's ability to pull this off this well was a display of shocking levels of talent (and leads viewers to wonder if she won't suffer from split personalities before the series' run ends).  The supporting actors are no slouches either — ranging from seasoned small-screen veterans to relative newcomers, most of them appear to be keeping pace with Maslany (which is no small feat), and are a credit to Canada's actors' community.

     Taking cues from thrillers such as Lost, Children Of Men, The International, and 24, Orphan Black uses fear of the unknown and sudden plot twists to great effect, presents characters who never know who to trust, tells stories in which those characters' actions in the heat of a moment can have far-reaching implications for each other, and introduces mid-episode developments that make viewers' hearts skip beats (but, fortunately never stop — which would make it tricky to maintain an audience through the course of a season).  Sarah's journey throughout the first season is riddled with twists and turns as she uncovers individual pieces of the massive jigsaw puzzle which the truth has been cut into (and in the process becomes scarred for life by the sight of "herself" dying, as if she'd vividly fantasized about successfully committing a particularly brutal suicide).  The team behind the show don't shy away from revealing seemingly benign supporting characters as active players in the shell game which the clones are caught in (plenty of "HIM!  HE'S WORKING FOR THEM?!" moments are had), nor from teasing the audience by having characters begin to reveal startling new information moments before an undetected assassin strikes (the latter often enhanced by the ability which the clones have to pose as each other).  However, unlike 24, which was as notorious for its too-fast pacing as it was acclaimed for its excellent writing and production, Orphan Black's pacing is quick enough to deliver the story in a rapid-fire manner, but not enough that audiences will feel like they're being dragged along too quickly to understand events (seriously, 24, I walked away from some of your episodes with the same P.T.S.D. symptoms that Jack Bauer was suffering from)
— so watching Orphan Black is fun without being exhausting for viewers.

     The first season is highly recommended.  Have a look among your preferred sources to see about watching it.


     ~ STEELCAVER


     On The Web:

2013-06-02 — Sex Gang Children at Lula Lounge




     There aren't many live acts which can hold it together for thirty years.  I'm pleased to report that Sex Gang Children, who had not been in Toronto for three decades when they were booked to play the recent Salon Noir event at Lula Lounge, are one of them, and still play with the drive of a much younger act — but first, we digress for a bit of back-story …

     Salon Noir has become very successful at catering to Toronto's goths, who are as few in number as they are enthusiastic about their scene.  Started in 2011 by Laura McCutchan, an expatriate from New York's goth scene, the Salon Noir events have focussed on period-themed parties and performances by live acts who are rarely seen in Toronto.  Having previously brought the cheerfully spooky Voltaire, the carnivalian Deadfly Ensemble, and the sombre David J to the city, Salon Noir's summoning of Sex Gang Children — a band which influenced the later dark cabaret style — to perform at its Devil's Cabaret party was a natural progression.

     Sex Gang Children were one of the acts to come out of the very earliest days of what would later be called goth:  they often played shows at The Batcave, a club in Soho (just west of London, England) which lent its name to the batcave scene (around which, from the bumbling popular press' point of view, goth later condensed);  the band fused its post-punk music with spooky atmospheres, and with social critiques; they were noted for mixing cabaret with the Batcave sound (and for doing so a quarter of a century before Amanda "Won't Fucking Pay" Palmer became known for same); and in 1994 interview with The Alternative Press, musician Ian Astbury cited a joke between himself and Sex Gang Children's front-man as having ignited the widespread use of the word "goth" to describe the subculture that the batcave scene was at the centre of. 

     "The Goth tag was a bit of a joke," insists Ian Astbury. "One of the groups coming up at the same time as [Southern Death Cult] was Sex Gang Children, and Andi — he used to dress like a Banshees fan, and I used to call him the Gothic Goblin because he was a little guy, and he's dark. He used to like Edith Piaf and this macabre music, and he lived in a building in Brixton called Visigoth Towers. So he was the little Gothic Goblin, and his followers were Goths. That's where Goth came from."

     In short, Sex Gang Children were "goths" before goths had even been named, let alone become recognised as a major subculture. 

 

      … with the back-story in place, it should be obvious that Sex Gang Children are not young men.  That being said, their performance at the party on 2013-06-02 proved that they are still very much a proficient live act:  their theatrics were dramatic without being "over the top";  the subdued stage dress (black suits) served to enhance the actual performance by placing the focus on the performers rather than on costumes; their performance was energetic even at the slow tempo of a goth act; and despite being in their fifties they played with the attitude of a group of 20-year-old punks  — so much so that Justin David Minister, a twenty-something Toronto musician recruited to play bass for them at this gig, did not look out of place on stage next to them.

     There aren't many live acts which can hold it together for thirty years and still be worth seeing.  Sex Gang Children loudly accomplished just that, and it was a pleasure to have them back in Toronto for the night.


     ~ STEELCAVER

     On The Web:

Album Review — NINO's Début


 

     NINO's as-yet-untitled début album will be at once familiar and fresh-sounding to listeners.  It is very much a rock album in its format and execution — however, the electric guitar and keyboards familiar to North American listeners are not leading this particular parade.  Founding member and multi-instrumentalist Neal Barenblat immersed himself in various styles of Andean folk music during his time in South America, and the influence of which are front and centre throughout — along with the use of traditional Andean instruments. 

     What Barenblat couldn't explain in his biography, and what is probably impossible to convey in writing, is how incredibly well he has formed a single orchestra from instruments and styles which should, on paper, be disparate.  The album is focussed on ensemble pieces in which no one instrument is given prevalence over another, and the instruments form a tight choir in his hands  — a listener wouldn't know that synthesizers weren't designed from the ground up to be used in tandem with charangos and sikus, or that rock drum kits weren't developed for use with cuatros and quenas, or that electric guitars weren't crafted specifically with djembes in mind. 

     The fun that Barenblat had on his Andean jaunt is apparent — the entire album is infused with a happiness that is bouncy but never gets overbearing.  At some times epic and sweeping, at others intimate and down to earth, the music sounds like the work of someone thinking much much bigger than the confines of a single album, as if Barenblat was trying to convey the entire scope and scale of the Andes in 4/4 time — and largely succeeding.


     ~ STEELCAVER

     On The Web:

2013-05-25 — Squid Lid at Kitch



     Kitch is an unusual space for a bar.  Located in an area which is largely zoned for industrial use, the unit which houses it is long and narrow, features a small second floor that overhangs the main section, and most of it is a high-ceilinged open-concept space.  This forced the band to get creative with their stage placement when Squid Lid played there as part of Sensational When Wet.  The result of their combined logistical solutions and décor was a brilliant live performance worthy of the band's reputation.

     Befitting the band's underwater aesthetic theme, blue lighting was used, Kitch's high ceilings were strung with large clear balloons to mimic underwater bubbles, AirSwimmer toys were deployed in the space, and blue laser lights were used to illuminate the balloons.  The visual results were quite impressive to say the least — if someone had wanted to throw a rave with an
under-the-sea theme back when raves were still being thrown in warehouse spaces and attended by people who were there for the music more than the drugs, this is what they would have aspired to.

     The band's legendary stage show did not suffer from the tight space.  Rather than performing against one of the narrow end walls, the band used a shallow stage against one of the long walls.  The primary musicians held positions in a straight line parallel to the wall while
Chloe Dellark, their vocalist/suit performer/acrobat, moved around at will, at times in front of the line of musicians, at times beside them on one end of their line.  The bizarre burlesque she performs by stripping down from a grotesque sea-monster costume to one of a crazy-eyed nubile sea witch (a staple of their performances since she joined the project) was included, even though it required her to be snout-to-nose with audience members.  A screen placed her in silhouette during a costume change, which allowed for a complete costume change in spite of the complete lack of a backstage area.  And the bands constantly-changing facial appearances, brought about by the rotation of masks which members Jonah K and Zirco use during performances, was enhanced by the close-in audience position which naturally resulted from the shallow stage.  The band's musicianship was as tight as always — in this case, as tight as the space was. 

     In spite of the unusual layout, Kitch proved to be a good spot to see the show, and Squid Lid's adaptability to the space proved to be a good example of what they're capable of.


     ~ STEELCAVER

     On the Web: