Beltmann

I'm 5'11, but there's almost always somebody shorter standing behind me. Am I an ass for staking out my spot and refusing to step aside? Or would I first need to be 6'3" to be an ass? Perhaps venues should systematically seat audience members according to height, shortest in front, tallest in back. That way no one would have to suffer the irritation of human variation.

Like Speed Racer, I like live recordings to be "documents" of a full show. But when I go to KT, I don't really go to it with the expectation of a document. For me, it's a sampler rather than a document, and there's nothing wrong with having a kick-ass sampler loaded with terrific live versions of many of my favorite Wilco tunes. I listen to it frequently--probably more regularly than any other official Wilco release.

I gotta admit that I'm geeky-excited about both of these projects.

I'm about to preview a workprint of a new film by a local filmmaker. His last movie was accepted into a few festivals and I wrote complimentary things about it at the time. This time, he's asked me to offer some advance feedback, and I'm happy to oblige. I'm a big believer in regional filmmaking (and I'm partial to Midwestern stuff). Sometimes the most interesting ideas are happening off the beaten path. Saying that the only movies worth seeing are those that are readily accessible is a lot like saying the only music worth hearing is what spins on Top 40 stations. Indeed, perhaps the best

In the Loop is near the top of my must-see list. Can't wait. Yesterday, I saw The Hurt Locker. Haven't made up my mind about it overall, but there's no doubt that Jeremy Renner gives a terrific performance.

This thread inspired me (and Stacy) to revisit Planes, Trains last night. Definitely holds up, despite the atrocious soundtrack. And I stand by my long-held belief that it contains the finest acting work ever by John Candy and Steve Martin.

Yeah. That also points towards the significance of subjectivity when discussing art. Not only is objectivity impossible, it's also not even particularly desirable. You're right that some common understandings about how and why art works have emerged over time, but even those "standards" don't mean much in the unique moment created between an individual work and an individual spectator. I remember Pauline Kael once chastised some fellow critics for their "saphead objectivity." What she meant, I think, is that art matters most in terms of what is exchanged between artist and viewer, the can

Wasn't he in Skid Row?

The idea of "boxes" suggests a standardized rubric, as if using a checklist is a reasonable way of assessing music. Thing is, not all boxes weigh equally--and their weights are constantly and wildly in flux, depending upon the genre, artist, album, song, or even fragments within a song. And sometimes some boxes don't apply at all. And some artists keep inventing new boxes for themselves. I think Dude is right when he says it's impossible to reduce music to math. Trying to find the science in art is a sure way of missing the art in art.

I agree. I hear a shift in style and approach, but certainly not a decline. For me, the Wilco I like best is YHF or BT, but it's hard to listen to the last two and not recognize the creative ambition. The new music is exploring styles that I might personally have less interest in, but I have to concede that the band is at least being successful with those new styles. In other words, YHF hits the creative target for me, while W(TA) hits the creative target for other listeners.

The stories were always a bit prefabricated, but what set his movies apart was an uncommon humanity, well-rounded and observant characterizations, and a genuine warmth for people and their quirks. Hughes was a good writer.

Yeah, that's how I feel, too.

Good lord, I love that movie. It might not be among the "best" movies ever made, but it's way, way up there on my list of personal favorites.

I remain fans of both bands, but at this point I no longer think of Wilco and Son Volt as occupying the same musical space, and therefore comparisons always end up sounding contrived and meaningless. I can say this: I like both new albums on their own terms, but for me Wilco (The Album) has had more staying power than American Central Dust. Is it a better album? Well, not necessarily. I just happen to prefer W(TA)'s distinct weirdness over the relative monotony of ACD. To my ears, all of Farrar's songs are solid as individual experiences, but as an album they tend to blur together.

Yeah, that's a great example. The flaws don't undermine the achievement; they can't keep down the greatness. Is it great in spite of the flaws, or great partially because of the flaws? I dunno.

Gotcha. Totally agree. Also one of my favorites!

I agree with all of your sentiments, of course, but I'm also not going to let all that baggage convince me that I didn't have a reasonably good time while watching The Rock. That baggage matters a great deal in the larger context of social criticism, but doesn't matter a whit while seeing one particular title--especially one that escapes Bay's worst overkill, and one made early in his career, before he, you know, destroyed the movies. Besides, if other worthwhile directors are wallowing in obscurity, that's not Michael Bay's fault. It's the fault of audiences that would rather see a Michae

But if a work of technical excellence lacks soul, then isn't it also flawed? (And in my view, that particular flaw is more crippling than any other.) This is why perfectly mass-produced wallpaper, or a Hollywood special effects extravaganza, are generally not considered great art. They have technical virtuosity, but lack the human or spiritual components that most people feel are necessary. To me, best implies assessing art via relatively objective measures while favorite implies an embrace of entirely subjective measures. Still, that distinction is essentially useless. When engaging wi

I know we've covered the Wilco references in the new Apatow movie Funny People, but I don't think anyone has mentioned that during the scene with "Jesus, etc." on the soundtrack, Seth Rogen is wearing an Uncle Tupelo shirt. Most of the shirt is actually just outside the frame; I probably wouldn't have noticed the familiar lettering if my (clearly awesome) wife hadn't pointed it out to me!

I always look forward to a new Miyazaki movie, but I'm extra eager for Ponyo because it will be the first Miyazaki that I see with my daughter at my side. I showed her the trailer earlier today, and she's pretty excited to catch it in the theater. Disney is notorious for botching the marketing and distribution for US releases of Miyazaki films; I'm skeptical but hopeful that this one will finally capture the imagination of mainstream audiences.

That's a good way to approach art in general, I think. Searching for ways to dislike a work is an intellectual dead end, while there's nothing to lose in looking for aspects to admire. When I'm at the movies, I'm always hoping for pure moments, flares of discovery or exhilaration or pleasure, and those isolated fragments--which may last only for seconds--can enthrall me even when the film entire leaves me cold. One superb performance, image, insight, or joke can justify any picture. In fact, fragments might matter more than films, because often they are what we absorb from a movie and most

Ah, those were the days!

As a Brewers fan, I was watching that game--yet another where the team was Suppaned. That must be one of the five worst contracts in all of baseball.

Great piece. Thanks for posting, jff. Me too. In fact, the Jay I saw in the film made me a bigger fan; I'm not sure I would have followed his solo career so closely (and with such patience) without having seen those glimpses.

Can't be. Can it? (Eagles Ballroom isn't far from me, but I stopped going there... the venue is atrocious in every way.)