Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Wachowskis Weave an Intricate Tapestry With Cloud Atlas

This time last year, there was only one movie that was on my absolute must-see list for the 2012 Christmas season. I’ve been waiting for The Hobbit, Peter Jackson’s adaptation of the first novel that captured my imagination, for nearly a decade, so naturally that was my top priority, and it still is. But more recently, other movies arriving in the theater have piqued my interest. One of those was Cloud Atlas, a lavish tapestry of storylines set in six different times with the same actors portraying multiple characters.

Tom Hanks fan that I am, he was the actor whose presence in the movie most drew my interest, especially after his slip of the tongue when he got a little too into character for a PG-rated morning show. He is one of only five actors to portray a character in all six timelines, and I was amused to discover that the character that got him into trouble only appears in the movie for a few minutes and is the only one of his characters with an R-rated mouth. Generally speaking, foul language is not prevalent. However, violence is, and I found myself averting my eyes on several occasions – and wishing I had on several others. Nonetheless, I considered it a thoroughly worthwhile cinematic experience.

The Wachowskis adapted and directed this very expensive indie based on David Mitchell’s novel, which I have not read, but in reading about it, I am intrigued by the difference in format between the two and how that affects the stories they tell. In the novel, Mitchell starts with the earliest story and stops midway through each until he reaches the story set furthest in the future, which he tells in its entirety before doubling back and ending the others, concluding at the beginning. By contrast, the film begins and ends in the future, and the structure is far more complex as the threads of each tale interweave. In the beginning, it’s very confusing, but then things slow down enough for us to get to know the characters in each setting a little before we depart, and then the whole movie becomes like a Magic Eye painting as you sit back and try to see the grand picture amongst all those short scenes.

I am a person who deeply loves finding connections between seemingly unrelated things, so this movie was an absolute treat for me. It’s a joy to try to predict what is going to happen in one timeline based on what is happening in another and to speculate on why certain scenes were arranged the way they were. This is a story about stories, about how our stories affect each other and those who are born long after us. It’s a movie that shows just how profoundly interconnected we all are, despite systems that attempt to separate us. Cloud Atlas encourages viewers to see beyond such cultural and societal divisions to the fundamental beauty and dignity of each person. Despite moments of horrific violence in each timeline, not to mention environmental devastation in the future stories, the overall tone is optimistic. Good may have to sacrifice a great deal, but it remains triumphant.

Another fascinating aspect in the movie is the game of trying to identify a particular actor in each story. Hanks, Halle Berry, Jim Sturgess, Hugh Grant and Hugo Weaving all appear in every timeline, albeit sometimes only very briefly. Jim Broadbent and Ben Whishaw appear in five each, James D’Arcy, Keith David and Susan Sarandon in four, and Doona Bae, Zhou Xun and David Gyasi in three. It’s interesting to ponder how these actors were selected for these particular roles. Given the fact that the film seems to espouse the idea of reincarnation, are we to believe that each character played by a particular actor is the same soul in a different time? Are they just similar types? Is it totally arbitrary? I can’t quite decide myself.

Weaving, for instance, plays a vile, oppressive character in every timeline, so it’s easy to imagine that he really is the same person in different times. Hanks, on the other hand, is repulsive in the 1800s but heroic in later timelines, though this could still apply, as it would show that he is progressing. However, his 2012 incarnation as a vengeful author seems like a major step in the wrong direction, unless it’s just the Wachowski’s sly way of stickin’ it to critics who have panned their movies. In any case, it makes for interesting conversation and ensures that this is the sort of movie that you could watch multiple times and always find something new.

Each story has to do with a character battling some type of oppression. In the 1800s, well-to-do Adam Ewing’s world is turned upside-down when he recognizes the humanity in a slave named Autua. In the early 1900s, brilliant composer Robert Frobisher apprentices himself to an arrogant musical genius who demands he relinquish ownership of his work. In the 1970s, plucky journalist Luisa Rey fights for her life while attempting to uncover deadly information that a corporation wants kept quiet.

In 2012, down-on-his-luck publisher Timothy Cavendish is tricked into taking up residence in a horrific nursing home and recruits several conspirators to help him stage a break-out. In the 2100s, a clone named Somni-451 learns that the world is far more beautiful and terrible than she has perceived in her existence under a totalitarian regime, and she attempts to enlighten others. Finally, the 2300s bring us to primitive villager Zachry, who must overcome his prejudices and guilt in order to help a technologically advanced visitor.

Hanks plays the grizzled Zachry, who may be my favorite character in the movie, though there are many wonderful ones. His peculiar speech pattern and the rugged landscape he must traverse makes this a role I suspect would be almost as demanding as his role in Cast Away. There’s a certain appealing purity about this story, and I love its adventurous scope. I also love the more light-hearted present-day story, which is far and away the funniest of the tales, filled as it is with over-the-top, wacky British humor. At the same time, the triumph Timothy and his fellow “inmates” pursue feels very real. The only storyline I’m not especially fond of is the one involving the clones. Both very creepy and extremely violent, it makes me shudder to think what could become of the world if technology continues to advance so quickly. However, there’s no doubt it is a compelling cautionary tale.

Cloud Atlas is a most impressive movie, and I’m sure it will receive plenty of recognition when the time for Oscars comes around. Its richly layered stories and expertly acted characters emphasize the beauty and terror of the world and the rich composition that can result from intertwined lives.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Amy Heckerling Is Not Clueless When It Comes to Adapting Austen

On a recent visit to my friend Libbie’s house, she expressed surprise that I had never seen Clueless, one of the classic teen movies of our generation. I was happy to fill in that gap in my cinematic knowledge by sitting down with her to watch this 1995 movie written and directed by Amy Heckerling, particularly since I knew that the movie was a contemporary adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma.

Alicia Silverstone plays Cher, the protagonist who is sweet and bubbly but totally insulated from the realities of the world. An heiress with an immaculate wardrobe and a knack for charming her way out of sticky situations, Cher takes to matchmaking as part of an attempt to improve her debate grade. After her plan to unite two lonely teachers (one of whom is played by the always-hilarious Wallace Shawn) proves even more successful than she dared hope, she turns her attention to her peers, and that’s where the trouble begins…

It was interesting for me to watch this because of my familiarity with Emma. I’m sure I would have found it quite enjoyable had I watched it without comparing it to anything else, but I think my awareness of the source material made it even more fun to pick out characters and plot threads and try to guess how they would be expressed in a modern setting. It made the movie more predictable, but it also led to some nice surprises when Heckerling changed things up a bit.

I love the relationship between Cher and her irascible father (Dan Hedaya), which is one of the chief indicators that Cher is not quite as clueless as she seems, since she takes great care to look after his health and well-being. Meanwhile, the squabbling dynamic between her and her activist-minded older stepbrother Josh (Paul Rudd) is a lot of fun and at the heart of several of the movie’s best scenes. The most maddening of her relationships is the friendship she develops with offbeat new student Tai (Brittany Murphy). While she means well in trying to make her hip and snag her a super-cool boyfriend, she never really takes the time to listen to what Tai wants.

The cast in general is strong, particularly Silverstone, Rudd and Murphy, and I found Breckin Meyer quite adorable as the good-natured stoner slacker who initially catches Tai’s eye. These characters are lovable even when they are aggravating, and Silverstone particularly brings that dichotomy across well. How can such good intentions go so terribly awry? It happens all the time, and things get pretty messy here for a while, but ultimately, we’re brought to a satisfying conclusion. The twists and turns are largely Austen’s, but Heckerling is to be congratulated on how well she incorporates them into a tale set in Beverly Hills in the 1990s.

While Clueless is rated PG-13 and is definitely best reserved for teens and adults, there’s still a certain sense of innocence about it. I imagine Jane Austen would be mortified by some of the material here, but for the most part, Heckerling does the story justice, demonstrating the troubles that can result from trying to run other people’s lives instead of supporting them as they make their own decisions.

Monday, November 26, 2012

A Lonely Girl Reaches Out to Her Father in The House Without a Christmas Tree

I have always been very fond of Christmas movies and specials, but this year I am becoming aware of how many I have missed over the years. Last night, I watched The House Without a Christmas Tree, a 1972 television special that my boyfriend Will especially likes. About an hour long, it deals with a small family striving for a Christmas miracle of which the titular tree is only a symbol.

It’s 1946, and 10-year-old Addie (Lisa Lucas), a precocious girl with spectacles and long, braided brown hair, decides that she would really love to have a tree this Christmas, even though she is reluctant to admit how much this long-neglected tradition tugs at her. She lives with her practical but warm-hearted grandmother (Mildred Natwick), who is the most attentive adult in her life. Addie also receives support from her sweet-natured fifth-grade teacher, Miss Thompson (Kathryn Walker), which makes her eager to lead the class effort to buy her an extra-special Christmas present.

Unfortunately, the person she most longs to connect with remains consistently distant. Her father Jamie (Jason Robards) is stingy with his money, which is frustrating for a lively child but understandable for someone who lived through the Depression not long ago. What’s more demoralizing is his stinginess with his time. Jamie rarely converses with Addie or engages in any kind of quality activity with her, and most of his interactions with her are brusque and disapproving. Addie wants a tree to bring light and life into a drab home, but what she really wants is a relationship with her father.

All three leads do a wonderful job in establishing the characters as individuals of depth and real human emotion. Lucas brings an intellectual but angsty quality to her performance, revealing hues of sweetness and dejection at being so disregarded by the most important person in her young life. Natwick’s is a maternal presence, and while her performance is subtler, we also see the emotion bottled up behind a stoic veneer.

Of the three, the only one I was previously familiar with was Robards, and he is excellent as a man who has retreated into himself in the aftermath of tragedy. He speaks little, except when he is pushed to point of a frightening outburst, but his craggy visage says a great deal. The change that occurs within this weary widower over the course of the special is not so dramatic as Ebenezer Scrooge’s but is deeply touching nonetheless.

Adding to the charm of the tale are the flannelgraph-style illustrations that punctuate the action and the cute sub-plot about Addie’s love-hate relationship with classmate Billy Wild (Brady McNamara), which shadows her relationship with her dad in some ways. The historical setting is also fun and most noticeable through the girls’ dresses and Addie’s constant use of the word “nifty,” along with the difference in prices that makes a shop owner’s kind gesture considerably more significant than it would seem by today’s standards.

At just over an hour in length, The House Without a Christmas Tree doesn’t take long to watch, and its heartfelt tale still has the time needed to let its events unfold gradually. A stirring story of reconciliation, it celebrates the beauty of traditional Christmas trappings but, more than that, of a family whose members truly appreciate, respect and make merry with one another.

Blake Shelton Offers a Very Country Yuletide Album With Cheers, It's Christmas

Blake Shelton is not an artist I know much about, but based on my first impression of him with the recently released Cheers, It’s Christmas, I would certainly not be opposed to checking out some of his other music. This is an album firmly within the country genre, so that could be a turn-off to some, but for those who enjoy country or are at least open to it, Shelton has created a holiday treasure.

Several of the songs on this album are extra-peppy Christmas classics like the Miranda Lambert duet Jingle Bell Rock, the short, tambourine-laden Winter Wonderland, and Blue Christmas, which is unusually chipper and features a nifty saxophone solo. On the slower side of things are the piano-driven White Christmas, the leisurely Christmas Song and I’ll Be Home for Christmas and the mellow acoustic guitar-driven Silver Bells, a duet with Xenia. Right in between is Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!, which is upbeat but cozy.

Impressively, nearly half of the songs on this album are new or at least not the standard Christmas fare. There’s a New Kid in Town isn’t original to this album, but it is a newer song, and a lovely one at that. This duet with Kelly Clarkson is reverent and slow-paced as it speaks of the wonder of Christ’s arrival. Michael Buble joins Shelton for a Christmasized version of the Canadian crooner’s hit song Home; with just a few adjustments, the mellow ballad becomes such a natural cozy Christmas tune that it seems a wonder it didn’t start out that way.

Oklahoma Christmas is a charming duet with Reba McIntyre. Fiddles add to the down-home feel of this song about longing for an Oklahoma holiday while being stranded in a snowstorm in Tennessee. Time for Me to Come Home, a duet with co-writer Dorothy Shackleford, is romantic in tone, having to do with the yearning to return to a loved one at Christmas. As with Oklahoma, the fiddle really adds to the homey feeling of the track.

On the whimsical end of things, we have the fun Santa’s Got a Choo Choo Train. With fast-paced guitar to simulate the rhythm of the rails and a train whistle as a more overt reminder, it’s an old-fashioned story-song about Santa using a train instead of a sleigh and is one of my favorite tracks. Finally, there’s The Very Best Time of Year, a low-key track he performs with Trypta-Phunk. Its domestic images of comfort radiate general goodwill for all as the album closes.

All told, this is a solid Christmas album with a nice mix of new and classic, sacred and secular. Anyone who doesn’t mind such an unapologetically country album should be able to find something to enjoy here.

Friday, November 23, 2012

Cee Lo's Magic Moment Lives Up to Its Title

I know next to nothing about Cee Lo Green aside from the fact that he released a foul-mouthed but oh-so-catchy kiss-off song that I’ve heard several times with altered lyrics. Considering the bleep-worthiness of this song, I wasn’t at all sure I’d like his Christmas album, Cee Lo’s Magic Moment, so it ended up being one of the sweetest musical surprises of the season for me.

Cee Lo has a deep, soulful voice that makes him well suited to R and B-style Christmas classics such as What Christmas Means to Me, first recorded by Stevie Wonder; Donny Hathaway’s funky This Christmas; and Charles Brown’s soul-stirring Please Come Home for Christmas. There’s a sense of passion and sincerity in his delivery that really grabbed me and held my attention.

Songs of romance are plentiful here, and he fares similarly well with those. His rendition of Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is peppy and includes some vocal acrobatics, as does the duet Baby It’s Cold Outside; while it starts off fairly sedate, he and Christina Aguilera soon let their voices go wild as they sing over top of each other. Meanwhile, the brass-heavy Merry Christmas, Baby is a fun number that ties into the Christmas album of Rod Stewart, who guests here alongside Trombone Shorty.

The smooth but percussive Christmas Song is warmly relaxing, while The River is melancholy without being morose and his version of White Christmas is one of the bounciest I have heard. The rollicking keyboards are the real stars of Run Rudolph Run, but the vocals are great in a retro rock kind of way.

Silent Night has a truly reverent Gospel feel to it, with faint choral backing to a gorgeous lead vocal. After I listened to the album, I watched the video, which features a lanky Santa and several scantily clad women in red and white running in slow motion; the bizarre spectacle certainly detracts from the beauty of the music and the sense of sincerity, which is a shame. Thankfully, there is no such video for Mary, Did You Know?, which has rich instrumental backing and an even more soulful sound to it.

Cee Lo’s two most unusual tracks still are not wholly original, but they are a lot of fun. He teams up with the brilliant Straight No Chaser for a hugely entertaining rendition of You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch that is loaded with harmonic surprises. His recitation of several lengthy passages from the book adds to the enjoyment as well.

All I Need Is Love is weird and wacky, drawing from the Beatles’ All You Need Is Love with a beat straight out of Mambo No. 5 and a strong sampling of Muppet classic Mahna Mahna. Several Muppets have a solo line or two, so picking them out is a lot of fun, even though it takes a few listens to catch everything. Make sure to listen through to the end to allow perpetually cranky Statler and Waldorf their opportunity to weigh in, even though their assessment naturally differs from mine. This isn’t an easy track to sing along with, but it’s loads of fun, and it also has some nice sentiments about the joy of togetherness this time of year.

I’m still not entirely sure where Cee Lo is coming from, especially after seeing that Silent Night video, but his album is a joy to listen to nonetheless. If you’re into soulful renditions of Christmas classics, you should give it a spin too.

Christmas with Scotty McCreery is Cozy Indeed

Last year, I got more excited about American Idol than I have in years. That was because of Scotty McCreery, the sweet-mannered teen with a deep, old-fashioned country voice who wound up taking the crown. I enjoyed his debut album last fall, and I was thrilled to find out that he had a Christmas album out this year. As I expected, I found Christmas With Scotty McCreery to be a delight.

McCreery includes a good mix of the sacred and secular. Among the more lightweight tracks are the two-minute-long, fiddle- and piano-heavy Let It Snow; the bluesy Jingle Bells; the fast-paced, electric guitar-backed Holly Jolly Christmas; and the jazzy, piano-driven Winter Wonderland. These are fun, lively and ideal for clapping or even dancing along. So is the less familiar Santa Claus Is Back in Town, a rockin’, bluesy Elvis cover for which he adopts a different tone in imitation of the King of Rock and Roll.

On the solemn end of things is the reverent The First Noel, which is backed by acoustic guitar and occasional vocal harmonies and is marvelously mellow; Mary Did You Know?, a sincere if slightly too fast-paced rendition of this thoughtful examination of Mary; the leisurely The Christmas Song; and the nearly five-minute-long O Holy Night, which is very sedate and is augmented by the presence of the harp, not to mention my favorite, often-omitted verse.

Happily, this album also includes two originals. Christmas in Heaven, a lovely duet with Jenifer Wrinkle, is written from the perspective of someone recently bereaved who is observing the sights and sounds of the season and wondering what the departed loved one is experiencing. A gentle song backed by acoustic guitar, this would work well alongside Ryan Kelly’s Not Far Apart, which takes the perspective of the one in Heaven.

While that track is very sweet, I prefer Christmas Comin’ Round Again a peppy four-minute-long song about the tendency of Christmas to inspire reconciliation. With its heartfelt harmonies and its array of instruments including mandolin, accordion and tambourine, it’s a joy to listen to, and its point that “It’s time to let go and let the love in,” exemplified by several anecdotes about mended fences, is well taken.

I’ll admit I’m a little prejudiced when it comes to Scotty McCreery, as he’s one of those singers whose voice just melts me after a couple of notes. I think it’s clear, though, that this is a young man with a bright musical future, and I’m glad he didn’t dilly-dally in putting out his first Christmas album. I’d be happy to invite that low voice and bright spirit onto my stereo anytime, especially during this festive season.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John Reunite for Christmas

John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John made a great pair in Grease, so it stands to reason that they might do well to team up elsewhere too. Still, it surprised me to see that they had decided to collaborate on a new Christmas album. This Christmas is not an album I would listen to repeatedly, but it is fun to listen to these two sing together and imagine them as Danny and Sandy decades into the future.

The album consists mostly of traditional Christmas songs, a couple of which, unsurprisingly, have a predominant romantic theme to them. Baby It’s Cold Outside makes for a fun duet, particularly since Newton-John is the one imploring Travolta to stay rather than the other way around. While the pace feels overly slow to me, the flirtatious bickering fits these two well, while the brass-heavy This Christmas, which features a lengthy piano solo, presents a more united expectation of a cheery Christmas.

Several of the songs have a jazzy feel to them, particularly the peppier numbers such as the two-minute-long Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, which includes a smooth sax solo by Kenny G, and Winter Wonderland, which includes Tony Bennett and the Count Basie Orchestra. Slower songs include the melancholy I’ll Be Home For Christmas, which is augmented by the presence of Barbra Streisand, and White Christmas, which includes the often-omitted introduction and resolves with some lovely harmonies.

Of the two, I would say that Travolta’s voice has held up much better than Newton-John’s, and his sounds particularly strong on Rat Pack-style numbers like The Christmas Waltz, which he performs by himself, and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, in which he sounds much better in his solo lines than she does. Together, however, they fare very well, particularly in the cozy The Christmas Song, which concludes with them wishing each other a merry Christmas.

They also sound quite nice in conjunction with others. With James Taylor in Deck the Halls, they make a terrific trio, and they complement choruses of children and adults well on the Celtic-flavored Silent Night and the intriguing medley of Auld Lang Syne and Christmastime Is Here. While I don’t think the blend entirely works, the focus on nostalgia is present in both, and it makes for a memorable album closer.

OF course, given the parties involved, I was hoping there would be a song specifically written to emulate the feel of Grease, and that comes with I Think You Might Like It. This bouncy number does have a rockin’ 50s style to it, but it focuses on a couple who have already found domestic bliss and have just been separated from each other a while. It’s a nice song, but it doesn’t really stick out in my mind, and I doubt it will become a big radio hit.

Ultimately, this album delivered about what I thought it would. Sometimes it comes across as pretty campy, though it also is quite nice in places. If you’re looking for a true fusion of Grease and Christmas music, you’ll be disappointed, but as a sweet reunion between two old friends, This Christmas is worth a listen.

Originals Augment Colbie Caillat's Christmas in the Sand

My familiarity with pop songstress Colbie Caillat has mostly been limited to her effervescent hit single Bubbly, but that one song is fun enough that I was eager to see what her Christmas album would sound like. Entitled Christmas in the Sand, it’s upbeat and bouncy, and at least one of the four original songs seems like it has the potential to make a splash. If you’re looking for a sunny alternative to all of the wintry albums out this time of year, this isn’t a bad option.

Of course, that’s not to say that winter weather doesn’t come up in several of these songs. We’ve got the playful Baby, It’s Cold Outside, a duet with Gavin DeGraw; the leisurely The Christmas Song, which features Justin Young, a mandolin and sleigh bells; and the bouncy, choir-backed Winter Wonderland.

We’ve also got traditional Christmas elements like Santa Claus. Given the unfortunate fondness female pop singers seem to have for the avaricious Santa Baby, I’m not surprised to see that here, though I always consider that one skippable. More enjoyable is Santa Claus Is Coming to Town, which has an interesting rhythm, starting out slow and then becoming much more of a rock tune halfway through.

Other familiar tunes delve into the cozy elements of Christmas. I really like her take on Silver Bells, which features some nice music box-style accompaniment as well as harmonizing with herself, and the changing of the line “Christmastime in the city” to different locales such as “the country” and “Hawaii” adds to the sense that this is an album for those who don’t connect as much with the most prevalent Christmas images. Auld Lang Syne, with its acoustic guitar, fiddle and choral backing, makes for a nice end to the album, while the peppy, romantic Merry Christmas, Baby, a duet with Brad Paisley, is a fine beginning.

Most interesting, though, are the original songs, and I was impressed that Caillat included four, a full third of the tracks. The title track includes sleigh bells but discusses Christmas on the beach, proclaiming, “I saw Santa in his bathing suit!” The tone seems rather risque to me, and it’s probably my least favorite of the four because of all the innuendo, but it’s also fun to think of these figures commonly associated with snow hanging out on the beach. Also on the slightly naughtier end of things is Mistletoe, a plea for romantic reconciliation which isn’t strictly new but which Caillat co-wrote.

I prefer Every Day Is Christmas, a four-and-a-half-minute-long love song along the same lines as Neil Diamond’s You Make It Feel Like Christmas. “Every day is Christmas as long as every day you are mine,” she declares in this choral-backed pop-rock ballad. My favorite track, though, is Happy Christmas, which lists of all the stuff associated with Christmas before taking an opposite stance to Santa Baby. “Maybe we worry too much about wishing and not enough about giving,” she muses. This endearing track espouses random acts of kindness and general goodwill, and for its refreshing message, it’s the one I most hope to hear on the radio.

Caillat has a unique voice that just seems to exude happiness, so I’m glad that she decided to release an album in a genre so marked by happy music. The fact that her father produced the album adds to the sense of authenticity that particularly comes from her self-penned songs. While I would have liked to hear a more personal touch on some of the other songs, this would make a charming gift for those who already enjoy her laid-back style.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Disney Offers a Nice Mix of Christmas Classics With a Few New Tunes

We've moved into full-on Christmas mode in my house this year, so when I recalled that yesterday was Mickey Mouse's birthday, a Disney Christmas album seemed like a good way to celebrate. So it was that we stumbled upon Disney's Family Christmas Collection, a group of 20 songs befitting the season.

Many of the songs here just have a pleasant, generic feel to them. Some have a peppy kid's chorus and sometimes an adult soloist in the tradition of many classic Disney recordings. Songs in this vein include Frosty the Snowman, Joy to the World and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. Most of the tracks are quite short, ranging from about a minute to two and a half minutes, which keeps things moving along quickly and almost guarantees that if you don't like the current song, you'll soon find a song that you do like.

The album isn't especially well mixed, as the first batch of songs generally has a much more upbeat feel, while the second batch is more sedate. Still, this could be handy, as kids might prefer the first half and adults the second. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing and Winter Wonderland are both tracks that appear earlier on the album but better fit the tone of the second half, as they are short choral arrangements with plenty of harmony. Other tracks in this style include the serene Bring a Torch Jeannette, Isabella, the madrigalesque Carol of the Bells and the reverent O Come All Ye Faithful.

Then there are the traditional songs that highlight individual singers. My favorite of these is probably Jolly Old St. Nicholas, which is performed by Anndi McAfee, whose childlike voice is sweet, strong and perfectly suited to the innocence of the narrator. Though I didn't realize this initially, she voiced Cera the triceratops in several sequels to The Land Before Time, a staple of my childhood.  Catherine Lucille's lovely version of Silent Night, backed by an "ooh"-ing chorus, is one of the album's longest tracks at nearly four minutes in length. Another is Chris Martin's slightly Celtic-tinged What Child Is This? Meanwhile, Terry Wood's a cappella rendition of Away in a Manger is just over a minute long.

Other songs seem to be new. The album concludes with Martin's touching Angel Time, which has to do with the idea that we are all observed and protected by angels. On the sillier end of things is Rayvon's Santa Rap, a beatbox-heavy rap that deals with the distribution of toys to kids. My definite favorite song along these lines here is Rare Old Christmas, an old-timey, pipe-laden song performed by Ed Miller, who sounds like a charming elderly Irish pub denizen as he offers a benediction to listeners, wishing them laughter and the joy of music.

Of course, it would be disappointing to listen to an album in honor of Mickey if the mouse himself didn't put in a few appearances. He, Minnie and Goofy are an integral part of the bouncy Jingle Bells and Deck the Halls, and they also chime in on Here Comes Santa Claus. Donald is a bit quieter on this album, perhaps because of his poor enunciation skills, but he's right in the thick of things on the sound effects-laden Sleigh Ride. The more prominent duck, however, is Ludwig Von Drake, who sings the only unique Christmas song that involves the Disney characters. That would be the very entertaining The Science of the Season, which attempts to explain such phenomena as flying reindeer and Santa squeezing into chimneys but ultimately chalks much of it up to magic.

This album includes 20 tracks but is only 45 minutes long, so it really is fast-paced. Plenty of certified Christmas classics appear here, though, and most of them are quite straightforward. While I generally prefer a little more personality and comedy in a novelty Christmas album, the more general tone of most of these tracks makes it fitting for background music at a party, and if anyone listening closely happens to recognize Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Donald or Drake, that should just be more reason to smile.

Lady Antebellum Emphasizes the Harmony of the Season in the Lustrous On This Winter's Night

My familiarity with the country group Lady Antebellum is pretty limited, but I have heard the trio on various awards shows and the like, and I’ve loved the tight harmonies and the bluegrass-tinged instrumental accompaniment, so I was eager to give their new Christmas album, On This Winter’s Night, a listen. I was not disappointed; thus far, it is my favorite of the Christmas albums I have heard for the first time this year.

Hillary Scott, the only woman in the group, takes the lead on several tracks. Her pleasant voice is the most prominent on the brief, big band-sounding A Holly Jolly Christmas and the mellow All I Want for Christmas Is You, which highlights an uncharacteristically merry-sounding mandolin. The First Noel begins as her solo, but it soon incorporates some lovely vocal harmonies, and she alternates with Charles Kelley and a choir for Silent Night (Lord of My Life), a beautifully reverent track whose descant pleading for Christ’s presence is its most memorable feature.

Given my limited familiarity with these singers, I wasn’t as sure of the identities of Kelley and Dave Haywood, though I understand that of the two, Kelley usually takes the lead. Male solos – albeit usually with some harmony here and there – include the plaintive I’ll Be Home for Christmas; the brass-heavy This Christmas; and the electric guitar-backed Silver Bells, which is the longest track on the album at five minutes long.

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) ultimately feels more like a duet, though it starts out as a male solo. It’s livelier and less morose than I’m usually accustomed to hearing it, which is also true of Blue Christmas, which actually includes some whooping, along with electric guitar and brass. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas alternates soloists, who are accompanied by gentle acoustic guitar and later piano, while the short but charming Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow is a true group effort that incorporates some cheery piano and fiddle.

On This Winter’s Night is the title track, and it’s also probably my favorite. Aside from the descant on Silent Night, it’s the only song unique to the album, and it manages to touch on romance, general goodwill and the birth of Christ all in one song. Nearly four minutes long, it starts as a mellow male solo and builds to a full, rich sound bolstered by an angelic-sounding children’s choir. Particularly potent is the bridge, which declares, “The king became a child a long, long time ago, and the child became a king so the whole wide world will know what Christmas really is.”

The intricate harmonies of these three singers underscore the sense of harmony that Christmas is meant to bring about, and the rich instrumentation adds to the beauty of this collection of 12 songs. While it will probably appeal most to country fans, this sometimes reverent, sometimes playful album is suited to anyone who loves harmonious Christmas music.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Rod Stewart Delivers a Long-Overdue Yuletide Album with Merry Christmas, Baby

I have never counted Scottish pop star Rod Stewart among my favorite entertainers, but his raspy voice has a certain appeal by mere virtue of its unusual sound. I’ve also enjoyed several of his hits over the years, particularly the tender benediction Forever Young, which ran on repeat alongside a slideshow of photos of me that my dad put together for my college graduation party. When I saw that he had a new Christmas album out, my interest was piqued.

What really surprised me was the fact that this is the first Christmas album to be released by the seasoned recording artist, who has recently turned to crafting albums of standards. Granted, I’d never associated him with any Christmas recordings, but it was hard for me to believe that in his long career, he’d never come up with the almost-ubiquitous Christmas album. That knowledge just made me all the more eager to enjoy the David Foster-produced Merry Christmas, Baby, is a nice jazzy backdrop to a cold winter’s evening.

As is typical for albums of this type, many of the tracks have a similar sound to them. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Santa Claus Is Coming to Town and Blue Christmas share a leisurely pace and prominent piano, with other instruments coming in during instrumental sections. The little hint of Jingle Bells that concludes Merry Little Christmas is a nice touch, as is the bit of scatting toward the end of Santa Claus, but none of these tracks is particularly distinctive.

Guitar is more the standard for White Christmas, which is distinguished by a groovy riff at the beginning and end, and Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!, in which the guitar ripples nicely and is ultimately joined by the saxophone. When You Wish Upon a Star doesn’t really offer anything new, but it is a nice relaxing track, even if I always scratch my head a bit when it appears on a Christmas album.

Stewart changes things up a bit more with several collaborative tracks. Merry Christmas, Baby is a fun duet with up-and-coming master brass man Trombone Shorty. The electric organ and jingle bells add to the exuberance of the track, as does the backing chorus, and the addition of the line “May the good Lord be with ya” both recalls Forever Young and gives the secular song a touch of a gospel flavor. Another romantic track is What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?, which is peculiar in that it is spliced together with an old recording of Ella Fitzgerald, creating a virtual duet. Of the duets, this one struck me as the least dynamic, and once I realized the way it had been compiled, I understood why.

By contrast, I found Winter Wonderland, the duet with modern-day crooner Michael Buble, a vibrant delight. The two alternate lines then harmonize on the chorus, and both seem to have fun playing around with melody. It’s especially enjoyable when one starts and another starts a few seconds later, creating an almost round-like effect. The burst of snow-like noise that concludes the track is the perfect icing on what probably ties for my favorite track. The other is We Three Kings, a duet with Mary J. Blige. While the two of them sound very good together, it’s the instrumentation that really knocks me out on this one, with spooky pipes and pounding drums giving it a very mystical feel and making it one of the neatest versions I’ve heard.

I always hope that any given Christmas album I listen to will include at least one song I haven’t heard elsewhere, and this album did not disappoint me there. Trombone Shorty returns for the boisterous Red-Suited Super Man, a lively song that begs, “Santa, bring some love to us all.” The sound is fun, but the message is fairly serious as it expresses a desire for peace and brotherhood throughout the world. Hence, it reminds me quite a bit of “My Grown-Up Christmas List,” though the tone is peppier and less earnest. It’s not a song I see becoming a favorite, but it is an enjoyable track.

The album ends on a very traditional note with the final two tracks. Silent Night begins with simple acoustic guitar accompaniment, but by the third verse, he is joined by an angelic-sounding children’s choir, and adults backed by an organ join in for the grandiose repetition of the first verse. Finally, given Rod Stewart’s heritage, it seems particularly fitting that he chose to conclude with Auld Lang Syne, the traditional New Year’s blessing crafted by lauded Scottish poet Robert Burns. The flutes and pipes add to the Celtic flavor of this song that ends the album on a note of wistful gratitude.

There are times when the album gets a bit snoozy for my taste, but the tracks are nicely arranged so that the bouncier tracks punctuate the slower ones before there is much danger of nodding off. While it’s not the most dynamic or original album out there, Merry Christmas, Baby is a finely crafted Yuletide treat that should please fans of Rod’s distinctive voice and Christmas music in general.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Number 3300: Kevin Arnold Navigates Adolescence and the Vietnam Era in The Wonder Years

Several years ago, my brother Nathan informed me that he dislikes Joe Cocker's cover of the Beatles' With a Little Help From My Friends. He wasn't accusing him of singing out of tune; he merely objected to the morose tone of what was originally a very peppy song. For me, however, Cocker's was the first version I heard, and it's Ringo Starr's bouncy delivery that feels a bit foreign. His soulful take on this tribute to friendship serves as the theme song of The Wonder Years, in which the bonds forged in childhood are looked on with reverence and regret. I watched the show enough as a kid to understand its expert mix of mirth and melancholy and regard the characters with affection, but it wasn't until this year that I saw it from beginning to end and truly appreciated its brilliance.

The Wonder Years, created by Carol Black and Neal Marlens and starring an irresistibly cute Fred Savage as lovable but snarky and sometimes downright stupid Kevin Arnold, is set in the late 1960s and early 1970s, a turbulent era of great social and political change. It also happens to be my favorite period of music, which the show exploits generously, incorporating the hits of yesteryear to great effect in each episode. As today is the 71st birthday of Art Garfunkel, half of the iconic duo Simon and Garfunkel - whose music accompanies, among other moments, the bar mitzvah of Kevin's best friend, Paul Pfeiffer (Josh Saviano) - I thought it a fitting day to reflect upon this series and celebrate it with my 3300th review.

There are many television series I regard with great fondness but few I have watched from beginning to end, not missing an episode. Perhaps the first to fit this category was Freaks and Geeks, Paul Feig's tender, wickedly funny tribute to his childhood. That was pretty easily accomplished since the entire series sadly consists of only 18 episodes. Despite this limited number, I consider it a truly sterling series and have watched most of those episodes several times over. Watching The Wonder Years, it was easy to draw parallels and see how the later show drew inspiration from it.

Both are set in a very particular time and use pop music to help keep us rooted there. While I don't particularly care for the screechy hard rock that largely forms the soundtrack of Freaks and Geeks, I'll readily agree it's brilliantly incorporated, and the use of Styx's Come Sail Away in the pilot episode remains one of my absolute favorite applications of music in a television series. With The Wonder Years, I watched every episode eager to hear which hits would be pulled out of the generous catalog of that time.

More often than not, they were songs I already loved and that gained power in the context Kevin provided. Along with the aforementioned use of Simon and Garfunkel's Bookends, particularly potent examples include Bob Seger's Why Don't You Stay?, which accompanies Kevin's vigil over his beloved Winnie Cooper (Danica McKellar) after she is injured in a car accident, and Paul Stookey's The Wedding Song (There Is Love), which serves as the backdrop to the unconventional but beautiful nuptials of Kevin's hippie-ish sister Karen (Olivia d'Abo).

Both shows center on one family and a few close-knit friends. The Arnolds and the Weirs are similar in many ways, both salt-of-the-earth families with a cantankerous, hard-working father and a sweet-as-honey stay-at-home mom. Sam is like Kevin in many ways - sweet, dorky, very loyal to his best friends. For Kevin, that's just Paul, who, like the later Bill, is tall and awkward with glasses and a boatload of allergies. Sam also has Neil, who is like the smart-alecky side of Kevin separated out into a different person and who, like Paul, is Jewish. Meanwhile, Sam's sister Lindsay is a non-conformist like Kevin's sister Karen, albeit a much more likable and fully-realized character.

Freaks and Geeks also tackles many of the same subjects as The Wonder Years, from athletic aspirations and romantic yearnings to academic crises and domestic disasters. As I watched The Wonder Years, I saw many moments from which the later show seemed to borrow. For instance, in the second episode of the series, Kevin and Paul become curious about the birds and the bees and sneak a peek in a detailed how-to book before deciding to stick to more innocent activities for the foreseeable future. In Freaks and Geeks, James Dean-esque rebel Daniel hooks the naïve Sam, Neil and Bill up with a pornographic movie, which sickens them. The first couple seasons in particular offer enough parallels with Freaks and Geeks that I can't help thinking there was some influence.

One thing that the two series do not have in common is the narration. While Freaks and Geeks feels nostalgic, everything is in the moment; we don't see Sam or Lindsay looking back and trying to make sense of it all. On The Wonder Years, however, that is an integral part of the series, and it amplifies the show's melancholy tone. While the futures of the main characters are not explicitly revealed until the final episode, much can be gleaned from the way that the older Kevin discusses certain events and characters. Daniel Stern's pensive monologues, particularly at the end of episodes, feature some of the most poetic writing ever to grace a television show.

While the immediate events themselves would provide ample fodder for discussion on their own, these often philosophical musings sparked many an intense conversation between me and my boyfriend Will, who watched it with me over the course of several months, usually long-distance through the magic of synchronized Instant Netflix, often with my parents joining in on my end. We've watched a lot of things together, but so far, this is the only complete series, and I can hardly imagine a more appropriate choice. It examines the painful journey that turbulent change sparks in all of us, as well as the profound beauty to be found in meaningful relationships and the peace of mind that comes from being able to laugh at our own imperfections, and it does all this through the lens of an era in which Will grew up and which I always embraced as my own despite missing it by a decade or so.

The Wonder Years is a show about love and loss. It is fitting that its magic begins to wear off with the advent of the fifth season; those last two seasons, which find Kevin in senior high school, often distanced from Paul and Winnie, are hit-or-miss, with several episodes detailing exploits involving friends who are neither very memorable nor deeply bonded to him. Even the teachers are something of a disappointment; while we see the same teachers again and again in junior high, particularly irascible Coach Cutlip (Robert Picardo), no one from that last couple of years makes much of an impression. The early seasons are the funniest and the most golden.

Nonetheless, when Will suggested early in the fifth season that we skim the rest, I recoiled, and I'm glad I insisted we stick it out. Otherwise, we might have missed some powerful episodes focusing on such subjects as the effects of the Vietnam War on the best friend of Kevin's older brother Wayne (Jason Hervey), the trauma of Kevin's beloved grandfather (David Huddleston) having to give up his car, the efforts of Kevin's mother (Alley Mills) to distinguish herself in the workforce and how deeply his overworked dad (Dan Lauria) yearns for the tranquility of a fishing cabin in the woods. These are episodes that needed several years of painstaking character development to pack the punch they do.

This is a series with many characters, but only a few are truly key. When someone mentions The Wonder Years, usually what springs to mind first is Kevin and Winnie. The absolute sweetness of that first relationship, even with all its ups and downs, has a halcyon quality to it that makes them one of television's most enduring couples. Composer W. G. Snuffy Walden even has a special guitar riff that accompanies many of Winnie's appearances, reminding audiences just how perfect she is in Kevin's eyes, even after the passage of two decades. Similarly, Kevin enjoys the sort of ironclad friendship with Paul, particularly during the early days of the series, that every kid wishes for. In some ways, the series is very much about Kevin's relationships with these two peers.

However, the show is also about family, and Kevin has just as much to navigate there. We see him dodge the cruel whims of bullish Wayne, whose maturation process is particularly slow, and scratch his head at the changes in Karen, whose enthusiasm for the ideals of the counter-cultural movement yields snippy self-absorption that fades as she finds happiness with a gentle, rumpled fellow college student played by a more-endearing-than-I've-ever-seen-him David Schwimmer. We see him struggle to assert his independence from his mother's smothering affections. Most of all, we witness his attempts to understand his father, a man he sometimes loathes and sometimes admires but always loves more deeply than he is able to comprehend during the confusing rush of adolescence.

The Wonder Years is an exceptional show. You can certainly watch it in dribs and drabs as I did in my childhood, and more likely than not, you will have a thoroughly satisfying viewing experience. However, if you really want to get the full benefit of the series, I highly recommend the immersive route I took this year. Not only is it an exquisitely crafted series in all respects, it is an outstanding catalyst for in-depth conversation, so watch it in the company of those without whom you couldn't get by and walk away from it with a deeper appreciation for the wonder of life and the ways in which they contribute to that.