We Need to Talk About How Much I Disliked We Need to Talk About Kevin

My taste in movies is fairly broad, but I definitely veer more toward the feel-good end of things, and I try to avoid films with an overabundance of violence. However, sometimes someone else picks the movie, and I’ll wind up watching something I never would have picked on my own. Sometimes I’m glad I took this venture into darker territory, sometimes not. In the case of We Need to Talk About Kevin, the latest such film I viewed, I’m definitely not.

This movie, which was written and directed by Lynne Ramsay, stars Tilda Swinton as Eva Khatchadourian, a cowed, disturbed woman who spends most of the film looking severely traumatized. We’re not quite sure why at first, though a safe guess is that it involves the titular Kevin, her son. The movie is incredibly disorienting, hopping around in time every few minutes, and at first I had a very hard time following it, though I eventually grew accustomed to the different time periods and could usually tell which one we were in by looking at Eva. If not, a glance at Kevin was sufficient, since we see him as an infant, a toddler (Rock Duer), a young child (Jasper Newell) and a teenager (Ezra Miller).

Of course, since Eva, not Kevin, is the central character, there are a number of scenes in which he does not appear, but most directly involve him. Each of the actors portraying him is startlingly skilled at conveying Kevin’s sociopathic tendencies. Even at the age of three or four, this child is frightening, and it’s little wonder that Eva does not relish the time she spends with him, though it is a wonder that she doesn’t aggressively seek psychiatric help for a child with such obvious emotional problems. Then again, she does not have the support of her affable but oblivious husband, Franklin (John C. Reilly), who tunes out any of Eva’s protests that Kevin is an atypical boy, in part because Kevin acts differently around him than he does in her company.

Once I got used to the movie’s nonlinear format, I had a better understanding of how it was building toward one grand traumatic event by showing us ever more unsettling scenes from Kevin’s life, along with a few from before his birth and several that occur after the calamity in question. We don’t know precisely what happened until quite late in the film, but it becomes easier and easier to guess as the scenes progress.

I nearly always find Reilly very likable in his roles, and at first I did here too, but at a certain point, Franklin’s complacency and refusal to take any stock in his wife’s concerns became deeply frustrating. Eva is icy and distant with her son and never bothers to hide the fact that she resents his presence in her life. In fact, she tells him this to his face when he is a toddler. However, in the end, it’s hard to say which parent bears more responsibility for the fact that he just continues to grow more and more cold and calculating, seemingly taking pleasure only in defiance and destruction.

Miller is particularly chilling, reminding me of Sterling Beaumon’s performance as a teen serial killer in Criminal Minds. The title reflects the deep communication rift between Eva and her husband, to say nothing of the total lack of useful interaction between her and Kevin himself, and one wonders whether talking to and about Kevin more effectively could have led to his turning out well-adjusted and sociable. These are the sorts of questions that the sixth Harry Potter book explored about Voldemort, and there’s no easy answer. This is a kid whose life revolves around openly tormenting his mother, deceiving his father and subtly terrorizing his gentle little sister Celia (Ashley Girasimovich). How much of that was preventable?

Both parents here have their issues, but it’s hard to see how any parent could cope very well with the seething malice that Kevin displays from his earliest years, so it’s not clear whether the film is advocating more checked-in parenting or just trying to scare the heebie-jeebies out of anyone who’s ever considered becoming a parent. In the special features, author Lionel Shriver notes that her novel was inspired largely by her examination of her long-held disinterest in motherhood, leading me to lean toward the latter. The friend I watched it with concluded that the message was, “Don’t have kids; you never know what you’re going to end up with.”

If that is indeed the conclusion we are meant to reach, then the film certainly succeeded for me, and I sure wish I could go to sleep without the scarring images from this movie rattling around in my brain. The movie is horrifying and revolting, but I don’t think my strong negative reaction is enough to classify this as a cinematic triumph. It stuck with me, but I certainly didn’t enjoy it, and the only talking about Kevin I want to do now is warning people off it unless they like having their stomachs churned.

Janet Aylmer Attempts to Tell Darcy's Story

I’ve been on a Jane Austen kick lately thanks to a friend who lent me several Austen tie-in novels. Unsurprisingly, several of them take heavy inspiration from Pride and Prejudice, and that is certainly the case with Darcy’s Story, which follows the plot of that book but focuses on Darcy’s perspective with over-the-shoulder narration that follows his thoughts instead of Elizabeth’s.

This novel by Janet Aylmer is considerably shorter than Pride and Prejudice and was originally written upon request from her daughter. Its purpose is to really get into Darcy’s head and show events from his point of view. However, the manner of writing conveys that Aylmer did not want to stray too far from the established narrative. In fact, quite a bit of dialogue is lifted from the original novel verbatim, and some quotes turn up multiple times throughout the novel as Darcy mulls them over or agonizes about them.

While this tactic does allow for some interesting opportunities to look at established dialogue in a slightly different light, it mostly feels like a retread, especially when the quotes resurface later on. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of wiggle room for Darcy and Elizabeth’s scenes together, so the novel is usually at its most interesting when Elizabeth is absent, since we are covering new territory. However, the scene in which Darcy first proposes to Elizabeth is well-drawn and manages to aptly demonstrate how unsettling an experience it is for him. Other established scenes emphasize Darcy’s social discomfort, making shyness as much to blame for his behavior as overattention to social station.

My favorite aspect of the book is the relationship between Darcy and his younger sister Georgiana, who comes across as just as sweet and judicious as Elizabeth’s sister Jane. In fact, she serves a similar role in helping him consider a new perspective. I also enjoyed Darcy’s reflections on Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle, the Gardiners, and how their genteel manners and kindness help him overcome his prejudices against those with a lower social status.

At about 270 pages, Darcy’s Story isn’t terribly long, especially if you skim through all of the portions that are quoted. However, that doesn’t leave too much wholly original material. Everyone who’s loved Pride and Prejudice has probably done a bit of speculating on Darcy’s doings during his absence from the story; I doubt this is the best of all possible versions. Additionally, while there would still be an element of surprise to those who read this first, I wouldn’t recommend anyone depriving themselves of letting their first encounter with Pride and Prejudice be the original novel. Still, if you don’t mind all the repetition, which is a liability of tales of this type anyway, Darcy’s Story, and particularly its midsection, is an enjoyable enough read for Austen fans.

The Avengers Usher in the Summer Movie Season

For the past few years, I have reveled in the geekiness of The Big Bang Theory, which includes plentiful references to Marvel Comics. Aside from the Spider-Man movies, however, my own familiarity with these superheroes has been limited enough that uber-geek Sheldon would probably shake his head sadly at me. At least I can now add another Marvel movie to my list, since my parents, my brother Nathan and I went to see The Avengers last night - the first time, incidentally, that I had set foot in a movie theater since I saw Chipwrecked in December. While I didn't always follow exactly what was happening, I think it's safe to say that this was the superior offering.

Written and directed by Joss Whedon, whose geek cred knows no bounds, this is an action-packed race against time as international peacekeeper Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) scrambles to assemble a team of superheroes to protect the world against Loki (Tom Hiddleston), a newly-arrived being who intends to subjugate all of humanity. I didn't see any of the movies building up to this, but the Iron Man, Thor and Captain America films set up this one, generating ample buzz for the movie years in advance. No wonder it's smashing box office records like the Hulk smashes... well, everything.

The heart of the movie is Nick's attempt to turn this ragtag group of superheroes into a cohesive unit, which is no easy task. Some of them have never even met, and personality clashes abound. Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark, otherwise known as Iron Man, is abrasive with his acerbic manner and quick-witted quips. I found Mark Ruffalo's Bruce Banner, a meek scientist who has made a valiant effort to get the rage that turns him into a green monster under control, to be the most likable of the lot, though Chris Evans is very charming as the slightly out-of-touch Steve Rogers, more commonly known as Captain America.

I was least familiar with Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow, a sassy spy played by Scarlett Johansson, and Jeremy Renner's Clint Barton / Hawkeye, an archer and the only member of the group I didn't really feel like I knew at the end of the movie. Also in the mix is Thor, the muscle-bound Norse god of thunder who is Loki's brother and therefore has a very personal stake in the success of this mission. Chris Hemsworth gives an intense performance as someone torn between affection and revulsion as he deals with what his adoptive brother has become.

My favorite parts of the movie involve these heroes getting to know each other, swapping barbs and gradually working through their own issues to truly become a team. I love Jackson's frank but passionate delivery throughout the film as someone trying to ward off disaster, and Clark Gregg is endearing as his idealistic assistant Phil. Downey drily utters most of the movie's funniest lines, though Ruffalo gets my favorite, and Hiddleston is unsettlingly mesmerizing as he silkily caresses each word.

We watched the movie in 3-D, and I'm not sure how big a difference it made, though I did feel I was pretty well immersed in the movie and probably jumped a couple of times where I wouldn't have if we'd been watching without the glasses. The special effects looked very realistic to me, and they were used plentifully. I found some of the action sequences a little confusing as they hopped from character to character and went on for quite a while, and it wasn't until the team was assembled that I felt fully invested in the movie, but once I really had those characters to latch onto I found the film a very fun ride, right down to the peculiar little scene that follows the credits.

While it's not my favorite of the superhero movies I have seen, The Avengers does make me want to see the movies dealing with the group's individual members, and I found this adrenaline-soaked action flick an ideal way to kick off the summer movie season.

The Smurfs Is Silly But Fun to Watch Once

Like many children of the 1980s, I grew up with the Smurfs. The cartoon about the little blue fellas were never my favorites, partly because Gargamel, the sorcerer always out to get them, gave me the willies, but I still watched the antics of Papa Smurf and the dozens of younger Smurfs by his side. Recently, I indulged in a bit of nostalgia when my friend Julie and I watched the recent feature film, and while it’s probably not a movie I would watch again, it was a fun trip to take once.

The movie is a mix of live action and computer animation, and its premise is reminiscent of Enchanted as several Smurfs, along with Gargamel and his cat Asrael, go through a portal and find themselves in New York City. Gargamel has evil plans for the travelers, while the Smurfs just want to get home. Helping them in their quest are a young couple, workaholic ad man Patrick (Neil Patrick Harris) and sweet-natured Grace (Jayma Mays), who is expecting a baby soon.

Slapstick abounds here, particularly in a raucous scene that takes place in a toy store, and the movie makes numerous references to other films, with my favorite being an extended nod to Gandalf’s conference with the moth in Fellowship of the Ring and subsequent rescue. Hank Azaria is a very campy Gargamel; I doubt he’d seriously scare too many kids, especially since Asrael seems by far the smarter of the two, but he poses enough of a threat to keep things interesting.

The film’s opening in Smurf Village is idyllic, and we get to see all sorts of little blue creatures with specific specialties. Only a few of them wind up in New York City: newcomer Gutsy (Alan Cumming), a stout-hearted, kilted Scotsman (whose presence among a bevy of mythical Belgian creatures remains unexplained); irascible Grouchy (George Lopez); indispensable Brainy (Fred Armisen); lone female Smurfette (Katy Perry); sage patriarch Papa (Jonathan Winters) and disaster-prone Clumsy (Anton Yelchin).

While Clumsy is arguably the central Smurf character, as he spends most of the movie feeling ineffective and unwanted before mustering his resolve for a daring rescue, Smurfette grows especially close to Grace, the first female she’s ever encountered aside from herself, and Papa is instrumental in helping to ease Patrick’s apprehension about fatherhood, with Winters’s warm reading my favorite of the voice performances. Harris and Mays are extremely likable here, and the way the Smurfs’ presence deepens their hosts’ relationship is very sweet.

I wouldn’t call the animation remarkable, and those Smurfs still look pretty weird against a live action backdrop, but it works, and the humor is hardly sophisticated, but I laughed. The movie does not take itself too seriously; this is as much for adults as for kids, with a hefty side of, “Boy, wasn’t this show we watched every Saturday goofy?” Yes. Yes, it was.

A Naive Teen Becomes Schooled in Dance and Romance in Dirty Dancing

A couple months ago, I watched the remake of Footloose, which inspired in me the desire to see the original movie, along with Dirty Dancing. While I still have yet to witness Kevin Bacon tripping the light fantastic, I can now check Dirty Dancing off my list of must-see movies.

As I started to watch this the other day, I was surprised at the setting. Considering that this is a quintessential 80s movie, I assumed it took place in that decade, but it’s actually set in the 1963, which upped the appeal for me. The soundtrack is filled with familiar oldies, and the naivety of the main character reflects a more innocent time, though some of the circumstances she encounters remain prickly to this day.

That main character is Baby, portrayed by Jennifer Grey with timidity that blossoms into self-assurance. Baby is a sheltered rich girl who worships her father, a genteel doctor played by Jerry Orbach. Unlike her vapid sister Lisa (Jane Brucker), Baby is a globally-minded intellectual, and her dreams include getting an Ivy League education and joining the Peace Corps. However, when her family takes a long vacation at a picturesque resort in the Catskills, her focus shifts as she becomes entranced with a tough-talking dance instructor named Johnny (Patrick Swayze).

This is a coming-of-age story, and it’s hard to say who is more surprised at the metamorphosis Baby undergoes, her father or Baby herself. Far from a natural dancer, she initially stands in awe of Johnny and his dance partner, Penny (Cynthia Rhodes), whose skill on the dance floor masks an otherwise troubled life. While Penny is initially snide and dismissive toward this visitor, a grudging respect develops as Penny is forced to forgo her role and Johnny trains Baby as his replacement partner for a big upcoming performance. As in Karate Kid, Rocky and many other movies about novices training for an important event, we see Baby’s clumsiness gradually give way to grace, with plenty of amusing missteps.

As much as the story is about Baby gaining the ability to dance a complex routine, it’s equally about her walking the tightrope between childhood and adulthood and redefining her father’s role in her life. A terrible tension develops between them as she deceives him and he struggles with her romantic involvement with a man well into adulthood. Orbach does a masterful job of conveying the pain of this adjustment in a way that allows us to sympathize with father and daughter alike.

Of course, a lot of the movie’s popularity lies in the visual spectacle of dance in its various forms, the more intimate the better. Swayze and Grey have excellent chemistry, with him taking the lead but her confidence growing with each subsequent practice until they’re finally ready to strut their stuff before a slack-jawed audience. It’s a sweet but steamy tale of romance born of a shared passion. However, even if you take that out of the equation, it carries the encouraging message that no matter how hopeless you think you are, if you work at something hard enough, you’ll probably be surprised at how much you can accomplish.

Ryan Kelly and Neil Byrne's Acoustic By Candlelight Tour - 5-10-12, Buffalo, NY

St. Patrick’s Day was almost two months ago, but the other night, I felt like I celebrated it again when Ryan Kelly and Neil Byrne brought their Acoustic By Candlelight Tour to the Shannon Pub in Buffalo, NY. I consider myself a pretty ardent Celtic Thunder fan, but it’s been a year and a half since I saw the lads in concert for the second time, and so when I heard that Ryan and Neil would be appearing together so close to us, I was thrilled. Ryan is the first member of the group I really latched onto, while Neil has consistently impressed me with his outstanding musicianship. I knew that they would make a wonderful duo, and I relished the thought of seeing them perform together in such an intimate setting.

Mom and Dad were up for it, so we ordered the tickets. I figured that since it was such a small venue, the chances of their selling out quickly were good. Thus, I didn’t want to wait to see if my brother could join us, but I wanted to check if he would be able to sit with us if he decided to come along later, so I e-mailed the pub and asked. I’m glad I did because they told me to reserve a table, which I wouldn’t have thought to do. As it was, I was one of the first to do so, and we wound up at the nine-seat table up against the stage. I couldn’t have been more than ten feet away throughout the concert.

We arrived about 7:15 for an 8:00 show, so we settled in and talked to our six tablemates, most of whom were charter fans who had been to well over a dozen concerts. It was fun to listen to their stories while enjoying the ambiance and trying some of the pub’s “world-famous” potato chowder, which I will attest was delicious. The décor was grand as well, particularly the array of Guinness signs that peppered the wall at the back of the stage and the framed sheet music in the hallway. Around 7:45, the lights dimmed and the wait staff, who were friendly and attentive, came around to light the little candles decorating the tables so that the concert would live up to the “candlelight” claim.

Just a little after 8, Ryan and Neil materialized, striding onto the stage in blue jeans and button-up shirts with no fanfare but the applause that went up when we realized they had emerged. What a difference from the high production of a Celtic Thunder concert! I witnessed that from the front row in 2010 and believe me, it is impressive, but it felt so much more personal to be sitting a few feet away and giggling as Ryan and Neil tinkered with the microphones for 15 minutes. At first there was just breathless silence, but after a couple of “Test, one-twos,” Ryan broke the tension with, “You’re all very quiet. Talk amongst yourselves!” So the buzz of conversation continued, albeit at a lower hum than before.

The concert began with a duet on a song I’d never heard before, but most of the songs were familiar. The only other one I’m not sure if I’ve heard before was Carrickfergus, which Ryan identified as his favorite traditional Irish tune. Rock and Roll Kids only rang a bell because the promotional video for the tour featured that song, a nostalgic ode to bygone days that reminds me of Crocodile Rock, only mellower and more wistful. Ryan explained that it had won the Eurovision Song Contest in the 1990s and was now the unofficial theme song of the tour, and it was a definite harmonic highlight.

A Celtic Thunder concert is streamlined and tightly choreographed, and nobody ever says much beyond a quick greeting at the beginning and a farewell at the end. That was far from the case here, as Neil and especially Ryan were quite chatty between songs, bantering with each other and the audience in a very casual, light-hearted, off-the-cuff fashion. Neil discussed the rather daunting experience of two Irish guys driving up America’s East Coast for the first time, acknowledging that Irish roundabouts are just as intimidating to American drivers as opposite-side driving was to them. Ryan’s description of New York was particularly entertaining. “Now, I know they say New York City is really unfriendly, but I don’t know what they’re talking about. When we were driving through there, everyone kept beeping their horns and shouting at us. We got a grand welcome!”

Neil and Ryan each did only one song from his solo album. Neil’s was the peppy Sadie Jones and I, a cheerful tune on which he and his dad collaborated and for which he created one of the most charming music videos I’ve ever seen. It’s my favorite of his solo songs so far, and it was fun to see Ryan chiming in with the tambourine. Ryan’s was Broken Things, which Neil began to introduce before amusingly deferring to Ryan, who said that many people had told him how deeply moved they’d been by this song about a broken individual finding someone to pick up the shattered pieces of his or her life. That was the first of his solo demos I heard in 2009, and it was a wonderfully poignant moment.

The two of them switched off between solos and duets, though most solos included some vocal and/or instrumental back-up from the other. At first, the audience was very quiet. I mouthed the words to most of the songs but didn’t want to annoy anybody by actually singing along; while Ryan had given us leave to be as participatory as we wanted, everyone seemed to be feeling a bit shy. At one point toward the end of the first set, however, Ryan specifically encouraged the audience to sing along, and after that, we did so on almost every number. It felt very much like being at a little folk club in the 1960s, and it warmed my Simon and Garfunkel-loving heart when they chose to conclude the show with an Everly Brothers medley (All I Have to Do Is Dream and Bye Bye Love). These two have only known each other about five years, but the bond of friendship felt just as firm, and the musical compatibility was unmistakable.

More than half the songs of the night were from the Celtic Thunder catalog, which was nice because they were so familiar to most of the audience, though the sense of excitement was greater when they did something off that beaten path, particularly if it was a popular song like California Dreamin’, which Neil led, with Ryan doing the echoes. Brown-eyed girl that I am, I was tickled when the first set ended with that lively Van Morrison hit, a rather natural follow-up to Ryan’s earlier solo of Moondance. I also thrilled to the opening chords of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, even though it turned out to be I Wish I Was Back Home in Derry, a protest song with the same tune that I don’t know too well. There were actually some visitors from Derry near the front of the audience, and after the song ended, Ryan said, “I hope you don’t wish you were back home now. Or not right this minute, anyway!”

Ryan dipped into his Celtic Thunder catalog with two songs famously covered by Irish balladeer Christy Moore, one of his musical heroes. Black Is the Colour was in the first set, Ride On in the second; both times, he noted that his acoustic rendition would be much more like what he’d grown up listening to rather than the adrenaline-pumping arrangements from Celtic Thunder. I particularly cracked up when he vowed before Ride On, “There’s no jumping off of rocks or giving people mean glares. This is a friendly version.” I’ve always found that glare pretty silly…

Ryan also sang Every Breath You Take after explaining that he used to cover this song a lot with Emergency Exit, a duo he’d been a part of during his early days of working the pub circuit. Of the name, he confided, “My bandmate came up with it. He said it’s perfect because wherever we go, we’ll see our name up in lights!” While most of Ryan’s solos - aside from the wonderfully raucous Bad Bad Leroy Brown - were mellower in this venue, Neil still cranked up the angst a bit for a riveting rendition of Past the Point of Rescue.

One of the most touching moments was when Neil sang Noreen, the Phil Coulter song originally written for the wedding of Liam Neeson and Natasha Richardson. The lyrics, added after her death, speak of the pain of separation, though in the case of the song, it is geographical distance keeping them apart. This was the first ballad everyone joined in on, and the effect was quite lovely. A similarly harmonic group experience occurred in the second half of the show when we accompanied Ryan and Neil on their duet of Hallelujah, which Dad declared his favorite version of the ubiquitous Leonard Cohen song yet.

Of course, there’s nothing like a raucous group song to get the crowd going at a Celtic Thunder concert, so Ryan and Neil pulled out some of those as well. Galway Girl and Whiskey and the Jar were tons of fun, but the most entertaining numbers had them imitating George. In Raggle Taggle Gypsy, Neil mimicked George’s deep voice for the verse about the lord searching for his vanished wife, earning a laugh from us and a head-ruffle from Ryan. Even funnier was when they did 500 Miles, normally a George solo, and flubbed the second verse, prompting Ryan to introduce the next song with, “And now we’re going to sing a song we know the words to!”

His introduction to Seven Drunken Nights was a hoot as he talked about how one of the goals of Celtic Thunder was to dispel certain myths about the Irish, such as that they’re a bunch of drunks… and then the most popular song on their last tour was this ribald drinking song. “Oh, well,” he said. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!” And he and Neil switched off verses, with Ryan echoing George’s dramatically rolled “r” on the word “Friday” and incorporating his name into the lyrics, which threw him off as he headed into the chorus, which just added to the relaxed feel of the evening in general and the rowdy tone of the song in particular. His intro to I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For was similarly funny, as he claimed that he and Neil had written the song together in the 90s and Bono had stolen it from them and then Celtic Thunder producer Sharon Browne had stolen it from him so they were taking it back. This was the last song before the encore, and it made for a hearty closing number.

While I was fortunate to be able to snag such excellent seats – and pleasantly shocked when the server led us to our table – everyone was within a couple hundred feet of the stage, so there really were no bad seats. Being at tables instead of in rows of seats as we would be in a concert hall made it easier for people to talk to each other before the concert and during the generous intermission, when we were invited to make a run for the restrooms or to head up to the merchandise table to buy one of the tour’s classy posters or the lads’ solo albums. This was also a good time to go up and sign the bedsheet that they are using as a souvenir of their first tour together.

After the concert ended, most of the people in the audience got up to have Ryan and Neil sign things and get photos with them. We chatted with another fan on the way to the table, and then we spoke to Ryan and Neil for a few minutes. Neil commented on the photo of him that I’d brought, a shot of him on a bike in his garb from the Sadie Jones video. “Now there’s a blast from the past!” he remarked. As he signed the liner notes of his album, In Time, I mentioned to Ryan how much I loved The Village That They Call the Moy, his tender tribute to his hometown, and he turned to Neil in dismay and said, “We forgot to do the Moy song!” Gee, if only I’d shouted out a request… He also said that he’d noticed us singing along with a lot of the songs. If they bring the tour to Erie, you can bet I’ll be singing along with the Moy song then!

Before we headed out, I got a photo with them, which I was very happy about since, though I’d met Ryan once and Neil twice previously, photographic documentation of that fact eluded me. While I love the Celtic Thunder concerts, I have to say that this was probably the coolest of the three concerts I’ve seen with them. We got to see them with their guard down just being a couple of ordinary guys who happen to have extraordinary musical talent.

In addition to the warmly complementary vocals, the guitar playing was wonderful, especially from Neil, who really knows how to make that instrument sing and at one point impeccably imitated a mandolin. Ryan, meanwhile, surprised me with his jaunty tin-whistle and bouncy tambourine. It was a stripped-down, intimate experience complete with technical difficulties, awkward pauses and last-minute set list changes announced by a “secret code” between the lads involving eyebrows, nods and a wee bit of mind-reading. These guys are really attuned to each other and to their audience. If you love them as a part of Celtic Thunder, you won’t want to miss out on the opportunity for some grade A craic with two superlative Irish musicians.

Celebrate Independent Music Stores With the Quirky Empire Records

The independent record store, like the independent bookstore, is an increasingly rare breed nowadays. After watching the 1995 indie comedy Empire Records last week, I am reminded what a great shame that is.

This movie, written by Carol Heikkinen and directed by Allan Moyle, centers around the titular store, where a small, close-knit group of teens and early 20-somethings work together under the easy-going management of the slightly older Joe (Anthony LaPaglia).

Three major events punctuate the movie. The first is laconic philosopher Lucas’s (Rory Cochrane) decision to take all of the store’s cash at closing time and go to Atlantic City. His aim is noble; he has just learned that a big music franchise intends to buy out the store, and he wants to generate enough money to stop that from happening. However, it’s a risky gamble that doesn’t pay off. How is the store going to recover the lost $9000, let alone avoid this hostile takeover?

The second is the arrival of has-been teen idol Rex Manning (Maxwell Caulfield) for an album signing. This is an especially big deal to Corey (Liv Tyler), a rather naive and mostly straight-laced young woman who has just been accepted to Harvard. In fact, she is determined to get her first taste of intimacy with him, little realizing in her teeny bopperish fervor that her coworker A.J. (Johnny Whitworth) is madly in love with her.

The third is a pair of shoplifting attempts by a mouthy teen who identifies himself only as Warren Beatty (Brendan Sexton III). These incidents demonstrate how well the employees work together to solve a crisis and how unique Joe’s management style is. The latter attempt also provides an opportunity for jittery aspiring singer Mark (Ethan Embry) to practice his assertiveness.

Interspersed with these occurrences is plenty of endearingly delinquent behavior such as confrontational clothing and jewelry choices – especially from the worldly Gina (Renee Zellweger) and goth Debra (Robin Tunney) – and music cranked up to ear-splitting volumes, as well as dangerous deeds like drug use and wrist-cutting. The dialogue is zingy, with plenty of memorable lines that elicit a laugh, and while the era of music being represented isn’t really my scene, the soundtrack definitely helps root the movie in a particular time and demonstrates the passion these employees have for the albums they’re selling.

The best way to be introduced to a quirky cult film is by someone who already loves it, and I was fortunate to have that experience. Even if you’re going into the movie cold, though, it shouldn’t take long to warm to the characters, all of whom are flawed but keep their shenanigans to a level appropriate for the PG-13 rating.

I especially enjoyed LaPaglia’s performance as a guy who seems quite deserving of a World’s Best Boss mug, and Cochrane got to utter many of the movie’s most memorable lines, but the ensemble in general is strong, and it’s fun to recognize some of these actors from later roles. It also made me smile that two of the actors – Tyler and Embry – in this film about a Little Record Store That Could co-starred the next year in That Thing You Do!, a thoroughly charming movie about a plucky one-hit wonder band. This movie isn’t as family-friendly as that one, but for older teens and young adults – and those who remember what it was like to be both – it is equally engaging.