Monday's Music Moves Me: Aug. 29, 2011 ~ This Weather Sucks!!

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Welcome to a Monday's Music Moves Me, the fantabulistic music meme hosted by me, my dearest of friends Dolly from XmasDolly, Larry from Cakeblast, Callie from Jamerican

The End of Summer 2011, San Fran, and an Irene Victim

Well its official, Summer 2011 is over folks. That's the bad news. The good news is summer lasted at least a week longer this year. Successfully calling the end of summer has been this blog's wheelhouse since 2008. The last three summers ended on August 15th, August 7th, and August 14th for the years 2010, 2009, and 2008, respectively. How have I been able to call the end of summer so successfully? Oktoberfest, that sometimes coppery sometime golden delicious, German larger has been hitting the shelves. Indicating the end of summer. I've gotten a chance to imbibe Oktoberfests brewed by Stoudts, Schafly, Weihenstephaner and Paulaner. And the Stoudts so far has been my favorite. But there are no losers in this group. However, there has been no way for me to sufficiently judge 'fest brews without the release of my all time favorite Okfest brewed by Left Hand. It is the barometer against all other 'fests are measured. Regardless, drink up and enjoy the cool deliciousness that is Oktoberfest. Football is on its way.



Which brings me to my second point, San Francisco is a cool town, but I thought I'd find better beer there. The whole trip wasn't a bust, I was able to run by Toronado for a pint of Russian River Pliny the Elder. Additionally I was able to find this great belgian restaurant called La Trappe in the North beach neighborhood. I had a russian river supplication, which is a wild ale brewed with cherries, some might call it a kreik. I had a hankering for a sour ale and this brew was excellent. I finished the night off with a bottle of The Lost Abbey's Angel's Share. An amazingly complex brew. Start with a belgian quad and then hit it with some bugs to give it a sour twang and then age it in oak barrels for nine months. Liquid Artwork!



For my third and final act, our home desktop computer seems to have become a victim of the hurricane. Base on some Google searching today, it looks likes it has a fried power supply unit and possibly a fried motherboard , or mobo for you computer geeks out there. Currently we are working with an old laptop that Meg used in grad school and neither one of us cared for it. If we decide to make the jump to buy a new comp, should we buy a mac? Possibly a MacBook Pro? Thoughts?



Go Hokies!

Colombiana Film Review

Review by Jared Mobarak on http://thefilmstage.com/reviews/review-colombiana/



When it comes to an action flick scribed by the prolific Luc Besson, one shouldn’t be surprised to see a badass heroine using a toothbrush and towel as her weapons of choice during a fight. This is the type of hyper-real, action packed, quick-cut orchestra of smacks and grunts we’ve come to welcome at the multiplex. And while Besson’s disciples have gone on to claim some fame for themselves beyond the looming shadow of their cinematic father—Louis Leterrier with The Incredible Hulk and Pierre Morel with Taken—it is the man with the best name in the business who is still cutting his teeth on the fun scripts. Olivier Megaton may not have crafted the success to warrant the notoriety of the duo before him, but he knows how to keep an audience entertained.



With Colombiana, you get what you expect from Besson’s menagerie of laconic killers. Like Léon, Frank Martin, and even Danny the Dog before her, Cataleya Restrepo (Zoe Saldana) is a woman of few words to go along with her extremely potent bite. After witnessing the murder of her parents as a little girl in Bogotá back in 1992, escaping international custody upon releasing her father’s memory card as a passport to America, and finding her uncle in Chicago to help seek revenge, it’s only a short fifteen years before the hard work culminates into an opportunity to unburden the heavy weight forever on her heart. Quite possibly the best assassin for hire in the business, her killings are orchestrated to serve a second purpose beyond getting paid. A means to an end, each mark is left with the drawing of a flower on his chest—a calling card for Don Luis (Beto Benites), the man who destroyed her family.



Don’t think the action is held at bay until the slinky, sexy form of Saldana rises from the shadows to dispatch an imprisoned target, though. No, little Amandla Stenberg has a few moves of her own. The twelve year-old Cataleya sits in stunned silence as her parents make their final stand against the cartel her father was hoping to leave behind, tears welling despite the motionless expression with only the tiniest of tremors risking to shatter it into fear. She isn’t one to sit back and let the formidable Marco (Jordi Mollà) push her around, instead stabbing him in the hand and whooshing out the window for some Parkour down to the streets below. It’s a chase scene for the MTV generation—as all the action sequences in these films are sadly now constructed into—but the speed and acrobatics make up for the fact we only see screeching motorcycle tires and glimpses of jumping people blurred into the next frame every second.



Only with Uncle Emilio (Cliff Curtis)—family—can she finally release the grief-stricken child within and cry for the loss of her parents. When he enrolls her in school despite her wishes to train for battle, her smarts beat out emotion. She takes his wisdom at face value knowing the skills necessary to kill will be taught as the years go by, his own revenge mission on the people who murdered his son serving as the lesson plan. Saldana is just a more mature version of this driven child, her goal never straying from her mind. But no matter what Cataleya becomes, or how well she can handle herself on a job, Emilio still watches over her. Handpicking assignments to keep his word to his brother, he will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Unfortunately, once the police cease sitting on the drawings she leaves behind on her victims, his own safety is put in jeopardy.



And through it all lays the ancillary players to make a plot where scorch and burn could easily take over. A corrupt CIA agent played by Callum Blue enters the fray as a pawn to tell why Don Luis has come to America; Michael Vartan arrives in a masculine/feminine role reversal to play the wide-eyed romantic whose love for a mysterious woman will prove to be her undoing; and the great Lennie James brings the dedicated FBI agent in charge of finding her to life. Devoid of his fantastic cockney accent, Special Agent Ross gets the job done walking the fine line of doing his duty and setting things right. Besson loves this character trope too well—see the Transporter series’ Tarconi—but it is good he allows James to stay strictly black and white without falling into the gray area of corruption or collusion.



That said, though, characters are the least interesting bits when going to watch a flick like Colombiana. We should feel lucky how once in a blue moon one of its ilk can attract actors of the caliber included here, each only as good as the high-octane warfare they bring since the often poor dialogue won’t win them any Oscars. Leading the way is Saldana, never disappointing as she gives her assassin a brilliant blend of brains, brawn, and beauty. As adept at firing two automatic weapons into a crowd of Colombian henchmen as she is at stealthily traversing a rooftop ledge with only her hands, Cataleya is a smooth operator. Optimizing her environment to expedite jobs, we become privy to a couple great death scenes from the likes of sharks, fisticuffs, and dogs—each graphic scene bolstering the simple plot as its sexy star blows things up. And that, my friends, is about as good as it gets for a fun summer romp littered in gunfire.

Team Jacob Wanted For "Expendables 2"?

Taylor Lautner, Christian Slater, Christopher Lambert and Nicolas Cage are all said to be on Sylvester Stallone's wanted roster for the upcoming "The Expendables" sequel says The New York Post.



Lionsgate is reportedly quite pleased with 19-year-old Lautner's work in the upcoming thriller "Abduction" and are pushing for him to be in the Simon West-directed movie. Stallone himself is said to be "impressed" by the young star's stunt performing abilities.



Donnie Yen has been offered a part while the likes of John Travolta, Chuck Norris and Jean-Claude Van Damme have all been rumored candidates.

Driver: San Francisco Videogame Review

Review by Martin Robinson on

http://www.eurogamer.net/articles/2011-08-26-driver-san-francisco-review



Games are full of excuses, whether they're telling you that a terrorist strike has closed off half the city you're exploring or that swimming is a bad idea when you have electricity coursing through your veins. As excuses go though, Driver: San Francisco throws up one of the more outrageous.



You're John Tanner, undercover cop, wheelman and faded gaming icon, and after one high-speed altercation with your nemesis Jericho within the opening 10 minutes, you're also in a coma.



What that preposterous set-up excuses, however, is something quite brilliant. Drifting through the fog of San Francisco in the haze of a dream, Tanner can shift from car to car, possessing citizens in a mechanic that's as inspired as it is bizarre.



At first, shifting just feels like a neat and snappy way to move from car to car. You'll be stalking the skies like an automotive magpie, waiting for a set of wheels that take your fancy before, at the press of a button, landing in the driver's seat.



The lure of XP - or, in Driver: San Francisco's parlance, Willpower - provides a gentle tug down from the heavens, generously doling out points for dodging traffic, catching air or holding onto a drift. It's a currency that also unlocks new cars and garages as well as expanding the boundaries of some of Tanner's special powers.



But shift soon becomes much, much more, and it's a pleasure to watch developer Reflections wrangle mileage out of the feature. Taking down cars quickly becomes an artful juggling act as an entire swarm of rush hour traffic is placed at your disposal, and snapping from one side of the city to another in a swift maneuver is central to many missions. There are smarter applications too: winning a race is one thing, but how about coming first, second and third?



It's a mechanic that's explored even further in a multiplayer suite that has a whiff of Midtown Madness in the chaos it provokes. Generous playlists are bundled together, and while point-to-point races play a part it tends towards the more boisterous as games of tag and follow-the-leader descend into heady carnage.

Driver's mini-map deserves praise, expanding at the touch of a button and proving more useful than most.



Shift's real achievement, however, is in placing the focus of the game firmly behind the steering wheel. This particular Driver, funnily enough, is all about driving, and given how the series has previously faltered as soon as it stepped outside of the car, that's a very smart move.



If it's all a little flimsily framed, Newcastle developer Reflections at least plays it for laughs. Driver: San Francisco, when it's got its story face on, often feels like a Carry On film directed by Christopher Nolan.



This is a city that's dense with characters, and leaping from car to car throws up a seemingly never-ending succession of skits; finding yourself in charge of a school run, leaping into the midst of a lover's tiff or between two sparring work colleagues and, at one brilliant juncture, between two policemen having an illicit affair (unfortunately Tanner never mutters "Oh boy" when doing so - an opportunity sadly missed).



For each moment of ticklesome slapstick there's another of striking dreamlike imagery - a city deserted, or one that's been dramatically put on pause. Driver: San Francisco's core storyline exploits such moments to full effect, managing to gingerly toe a line that means, while it's never exactly credible or plausible, it's at the very least enjoyable.



Thankfully, the handling is robust enough to bear the weight that's now been placed on it. This being Driver, there's an emphasis on heavy tail ends, inspiring aggressive slides that are easy to catch and delightful to snap into. It is, if anything, a little too tailored towards the theatrical, and the ease with which the cars can be whipped around means they often feel a little insubstantial.



Cars are also kitted out with a handful of arcade extras that just don't sit quite right. A rechargeable boost that can be steadily upgraded feels clumsy - not least in how it's awkwardly placed on the left stick. A ram feature feels just as out of place, and while it fills a certain place in the aggression of an online game of tag, it ultimately feels like an unnecessary appendage.



Reflections has at least ensured that while it's a theater that's a little shallow it's one that's spectacular, with Driver: San Francisco's bespoke engine tailored to show the cars at their best. First there's the steady 60fps that makes them feel smooth as butter, and then there are the little details that give them strong visual feedback. Weight visibly shifts around, and tyre smoke, in particular, impresses, with thick white plumes dancing through wheel arches.



It's all about the driving, then, and it's incredible how much driving there is to do in Driver: San Francisco. Nearly every street corner of this expansive open world seems to harbor a fresh challenge: see how far you can jump in 60 seconds, drift 300 meters, leapfrog as many car transporters as you can...



These dares sit among straight races and each of Driver's eight chapters also hosts two to three core missions that must be ticked off before you can progress the main story. They're a novel bunch that only occasionally head towards the frustration that's mired previous Drivers, although one story mission, near the very end, is a teeth-grinding exercise in trial and error.



But the story and its various missions are just another distraction in a game that's positively drowning in them. First there's a car list that is, perhaps unsurprisingly given the premise, packed with dream cars. One moment you'll be dodging freeway traffic, chasing down a Murcielago in a McLaren MP4-12C, while another might see you off-road in one of a selection of Group B cars, Lancia Stratos taking on Ford RS200s on a mud track on the city's outskirts.



There's a film director that lets you edit and share short clips - though it's only available to those who sign up with Ubisoft's uPlay.



Move off the menu and there's more. Movie Challenges, available when you're parked up in one of the city's many unlockable garages, are a reasonable answer for those wondering how a pure Driver game would act this generation. The supernatural powers are stripped away and the set-pieces are stolen wholesale from seventies cinema classics. Thinly masked references to Bullitt's Mustang and Vanishing Point's Dodge Challenger are put to the test in a mode that comes complete with its own grindhouse filter.



San Francisco, of course, is the capital of the car chase and iconic locations such as the winding Lombard Hill and the steep steps of Filbert Street are used well. But otherwise, the city disappoints, drawn in a fuggy haze and with an overplayed sepia palette that's no doubt there to serve the dreamlike ambience - and in the case of the haze to keep it ticking over at 60fps. It makes for a curiously unengaging playground and a blight on what's otherwise an admirable game.



Driver: San Francisco isn't quite the jolt that the arcade driving genre needs to stir it from its own particular coma, then, but it's an endearing and eccentric experience in itself. In Reflection's best work since the Driver series began, it's managed to tame the ridiculous and conjure something quite sublime.



8/10

Bradley Cooper & director Joe Carnahan teaming for alien flick Umbra?

Story by Jared Pacheco on

http://www.joblo.com/horror-movies/news/bradley-cooper-director-joe-carnahan-teaming-for-alien-flick-umbra



Way back in October 2010 we told you about a sci-fi thriller called UMBRA. You guys remember that? Probably not. So let me school you all right quick.



Originally set to come our way from Relativity Media with director Roger Donaldson and star Nicolas Cage, the project quickly shifted gears by adding director Joe Carnahan and jumping to Endgame Entertainment last year. At the time there was no tellin if Nic Cage was still interested... And that's the last we heard on UMBRA! Until today that is!



You see Bloody-Disgusting are telling the world that the project is once again in the news with the news that none other than Carnahan's A-TEAM star Bradley Cooper is apparently in talks to join the sci-fi romp. We've even got an update synopsis! Check it:



UMBRA follows an investment banker who finds himself mixed up in a major government conspiracy - one that's life changing. His world unravels when he is accidentally delivered an audio casette which reveals the government's complicity in an alien plot to breed with human chromosomes.



If signed, Cooper (above) would star in the film as 'David Underwood,' said investment banker. Mind you the actor isn't signed just yet, and considering his in-demand status I wouldn't be surprised if he decides to pass on this one. Then again who knows?



Not only will Carnahan direct, but the filmmaker will also tweak the script originally penned by Steven Karczynski. No word on when UMBRA will get underway but as soon as we hear any updates we'll be sure to pass the good word along to all of you.

The Skin I Live In Film Review

Review by Michael Leader on

http://www.denofgeek.com/movies/1029311/the_skin_i_live_in_review.html



After thirty years of campy comedy, passionate drama, luscious female characters and brightly colored set design, it’s a joy to see that Pedro Almodóvar still manages to surprise the audience, and have fun while he’s at it. His latest film, The Skin I Live In (La Piel Que Habito), carries on from 2009’s neo-noir Broken Embraces in its cheeky co-option of genre tropes, although where that film was still sensual and perky, this new effort is decidedly perverse.



Long-time collaborator Antonio Banderas stars as Robert Ledgard, a brilliant doctor who specializes in reconstructive surgery. He also conducts revolutionary research in his secluded home, where he experiments on a young woman, Vera (Elena Anaya), whom he holds captive. Dressed in a body stocking, and under constant, voyeuristic surveillance, Vera holds the key to a major medical breakthrough, as her skin is extremely resistant to heat.



With its mild sci-fi concept, and compelling mystery, the film does not resemble a typical Almodóvar film, although the wonderfully over-dressed sets, where clinical, futuristic laboratories rub shoulders with rural Spanish architecture and eclectic, polystylist interiors, do recall the director’s visual flair, even if the vibrant colors have been exchanged for a more muted, stark palette.



Just as surprising is the director’s complete dedication to the genre, with energetic montage sequences of petri dishes and pipettes, as Robert gets to work conjuring up his artificial skin. Likewise, the intrigue builds as we watch Vera, isolated from the world just as her inhuman barrier distances her from human feeling, go about her daily routine of yoga, reading, and creating patchwork sculptures.



Odd flourishes crop up from time to time, such as Robert’s anachronistic predilection for smoking opium, or the appearance of overly dramatic intertitles. However, the director’s straight face is maintained. At least, that is until a man in a tiger costume (the son of Robert’s housekeeper) turns up, and not only disrupts the characters’ secluded existence, but the film’s own sense of sanity.



From there, things spiral. Almodóvar obviously revels in pulling the rug from under the audience, feigning one way in the narrative, before confounding expectations later on. Indeed, a mid-film flashback to six years earlier, which charts the tragic life of Robert’s daughter, and its effect on Robert himself, is played with great tenderness, but the revelations contained within have major ramifications on the plot. It’s the sort of twist which reveals that you are watching an entirely different film to what you initially thought, one which turns assumptions about the characters - their relationships, their motivations - on their head.



Such a barmy development (to recount it would diminish its effect) only works thanks to the great poise, patience and skill with which Almodovar spins his yarn. The pay-off is worth it, especially as it comes with a healthy dose of absurdity, as the twist is so shocking in its concept and implications, that the continuation of the emotionally complex thriller plot is laced with bizarre, outlandish humor.



The Skin I Live In succeeds because of this flexibility, which allows it to be both utterly ridiculous and still unnerving, teasing bemused cackles out of the audience while leaving ample room for thematic undercurrents which interrogate male sexual aggression. Banderas, flecked with grey hairs and maturing into a distinguished middle age, plays Robert as part-mad scientist, part-traumatized family man, and Anaya’s initially distant, ethereal approach to Vera gains significant weight and complexity as the film skips along.



Likewise, Alberto Iglesias’ astounding score is a diverse work, taking in a wide array of tones and arrangements, shifting from high tension string sections, to electronic backbeats, from guitar drones to moody saxophone. It’s a complicated set of cues for a complicated film. Both the soundtrack and the movie it supports pull in many different directions, but in each case we are in the thrall of a major talent. And being led by the nose has never been such creepy, crazy fun.