Dan Stasiewski, A&E Editor
behrcolls@aol.com
`Kill Bill' slays the Coen Brothers
review by Daniel J. Stasiewski
a&e editor
The Coen Brothers and Quentin
Tarantino are indie films royalty, so it's
extraordinary seeing the filmmakers'
relatively large-budget studio pictures
both released on the same weekend.
With the Coens' quick, subtle wit and
love for imbecilic characters competing
against Tarantino's stylish, hardcore
storytelling, audiences had a chance for
a perfect weekend of film.
Unfortunately for the Coens, "Intol
erable Cruelty" lacks the pair's usual
edge, while Tarantino uses his to chop
of limbs of Japanese mafia members in
the brilliant and bloody "Kill Bill: Vol.
1"
Intolerable Cruelty
** out of 4
In "Intolerable Cruelty," George
Clooney plays the slick-talking divorce
lawyer named Miles Massey. After
making sure a real estate tycoon won't
have to shell-out anything at his divorce
hearing, Massey tries to come to terms
with the emotions he has for the client's
ex-wife (Catherine Zeta-Jones). He has
to deal with weird feelings like "love"
and "hope," but wooing the money-hun
gry woman proves difficult when her
conniving ways send her to another mil-
lionaire.
The Coen Brothers are used to creat-
New Dandy Warhols use
racy past to shape future
by Chuck Myers
Knight Ridder/Tribune News Service
A new album
A major tour with a rock legend
And an "Odditorium."
Idle time hardly seems to be a problem for the
The Dandy Warhols.
Once noted for its rambunctious, sometimes
racy stage behavior, the power pop quartet of
singer/guitarist Courtney Taylor, guitarist Peter
Holmstrom (also known as Peter Loew, after he
adopted the maiden last name of his wife),
keyboardist Zia McCabe and drummer Brent
Deßoer now draws attention with its richly lay
ered sound.
On the heels of its widely praised 2000 album
"Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia," the
band's latest release, "Welcome to the Monkey
House" (Capitol), may elevate The Dandy
Warhols to a greater commercial plane.
"Welcome to the Monkey House" marks the
fourth album by the Portland, Ore.-based band.
The album exhibits sonic continuity with a
smooth mix of aggressive and sensual numbers.
Although content with the result, the band feels
that "Thirteen Tales" was actually more musi
cally diverse.
"I think that the 'Monkey House' is actually
more of similar sounding record," says
Holmstrom. "And it's just production value.
Whereas on 'Thirteen Tales,' I though we did
cover a broader spectrum. But it's just in style.
But, then again, both records fit together really
well."
To help build the lush sound on "Monkey
House," the band brought in Nick Rhodes of
Duran Duran to assist with producing. While
Rhodes added some distinctive touches,
Holmstrom notes that his actual contributions to
the album were very focused, particularly on the
ethereal "Insincere."
"That's one of the two songs that Nick wrote
and really, like, actually earned producer credit
for," says Holmstrom. "It's kind of a title, and
sort of a weird one. Because we'd been working
on the record for about a year before he got in
volved. And the record pretty much sounded then
the way it sounds now, except for 'lnsincere' and
`Over It.' ... The other ones (songs), he just sort
of put the frosting on top "
Formed in 1992, The Dandy Warhols gained
notoriety early on for its antics onstage, which
reportedly included Taylor appearing in the nude
during live performances. Today, the group pre
fers to focus on long concert sets rather than ris
que visual surprises. The band generally shrugs
off its colorful past, and thinks its live show repu
tation has been overblown.
"It's totally hyped up from the press," explains
Holmstrom. "It's not something that ever hap-
ing characters that deal used cars or
bowl. The world of lawyers just wasn't
made for their humor. The classic Coen
wit is hard to find among jokes that are
generally simple and predictable.
Cedric the Entertainer plays a private
detective whose character is essential to
the plot, but bogs down the comedy with
his repetitious declarations of "I nailed
his ass." And Massey's partner is sup
posed to be funny in the same way "the
sissy" character was back in the '4os.
At least the old Hollywood mentality
pays off in the Clooney/Zeta-Jones ban
ter. The two do make a glamorous pair,
but it is hard to fall for a couple when
they hire hit-men to take each other out.
As far as casts go, this one is as
stacked as you can get. Geoffrey Rush,
Cedric the Entertainer, Billy Bob
Thornton, and Edward Herrmann all
have appearances that are relatively
small, but they are never utilized beyond
a few sitcom-esque jokes.
The Coens' cynical vision of love in
the 21st century is a rare gag that works.
Romance is no longer a candlelight din
ner or a bouquet of flowers. Instead,
expressing love is as simple as tearing
up a pre-nup.
Kill Bill: Vol. 1
****outof4
A female assassin known as the Bride
(Uma Thurman) is attacked by the
Deadly Viper Assassination Squad on
Singer and guitarist Courtney Taylor, center,
and guitarist Peter Holmstrom, right, perform
during a Dandy Warhols concert in Washing
ton, D.C., in September 2003.
pened all that often. It probably hasn't happened
for five years, you know, but it still keeps com
ing up. It's gotten better on the last two albums.
It really has. We sort of realized that all you had
to do is put out a third record, and people took
you a little more seriously."
Following in the footsteps of its namesake, art
ist Andy Warhol, the band is developing a Port
land version of Warhol's once famous New York
artistic hub, "The Factory." The goal of the
group's "Odditorium" is to provide a creative
haven where artists can work on projects.
"The building is going to be sort of our ver
sion of 'The Factory,"' says Holmstrom. "It's not
a studio yet. But it will be. ... We shot our video
there. And we've done photo shoots. There's a
kitchen and a lounge. And we run our Web site
out of there. And if we get everything we want,
we'll be able to take in bands, bring them in and
do their records, shoot their videos and every
thing."
With a North American early fall tour already
in the bag, The Dandy Warhols have headed to
Europe for a tour with David Bowie. Although
the band would prefer to tour on its own, it
couldn't turn down the opportunity to travel with
Bowie, especially after the rock icon personally
asked the group to be his opening act.
"It is full steam ahead," says Holmstrom. "The
Bowie dates don't pay as well as dates on our
own do. But the exposure is so great that the pay
off is there. ... You know, out of all the bands he
could have picked, yeah, obviously we feel hon
ored."
, ,f.bp
Friday, October 17, 2003
her wedding day. The assassins kill her
husband and unborn child and leave the
Bride for dead. Upon waking from a
coma four years later, she seeks out the
five assassins that almost ended her life
and destroyed her soul.
First (or last according the discontinu
ous narrative), the Bride tracks down a
Chinese-Japanese-American crime boss
(Lucy Lui), and then terminates a sub
urban housewife (Vivica A. Fox). But
she won't be satisfied until the enig
matic leader, Bill, is dead.
When I was watching "Kill Bill," I
noticed my mouth was agape for most
of the film. Conspicuously billed as
Quentin Tarantino's fourth film, "Kill
Bill: Vol. 1" is an awesome cinematic
event. The characters are fantastic,
ranging from Uma Thurman's blood
thirsty bride to Go Go (Chiaki
Kuriyama), a 17-year-old Japanese girl
in a school uniform with a knack for kill
ing people.
Even the term "femme fatale" seems
too timid for Tarantino's tenacious char
acters. The Bride's battle scene with
the Crazy 88s, a Japanese gang lead by
Lucy Lui's character, is beyond violent.
The uncompromising slashing and slic
ing is a fan boy's wet dream and an
editor's masterpiece. Sally Menke, the
artist behind the editing, has worked
with Tarantino on all his films and has
outdone even her work in "Pulp Fiction"
or "Reservoir Dogs" in the film.
As for the violence, it would take a
"Everyone is going to have one piece they are
totally going to agree with, and one that they will
be totally offended by," says Victoria Hahl. 20, one
of the performers.
"This show hopefully shows the dark side of this
country, and the dark side of ourselves," Tsurumaki
adds. "This age has the strongest things to say and
the most sensitive things to say."
Even the show's title has been discussed and
changed. At different points in the production, Boyd
says, the name of the performance has alternately
been Us/Slam Culture Jam and Us/Slam Culture
Confessional. "Confessional" seems to be more fit
ting, she says, but "jam" just seems to sound better.
And "jam" also hints at part of the show's ori
gins. Last spring, Boyd was teaching a theater class
that focused on diversity when she and her students
decided to try to create a show similar to Def Po
etry Jam--a spoken-word performance that has
morphed into a critically acclaimed Broadway
show.
"It was built of a need for more performance op
portunities and a need for the students to speak their
mind," Boyd says. "This has been a vehicle to raise
their voices."
The results have been a mix of views and for
mats. One student pays tribute to Gregory Hines,
swimming pool to hold all the blood
spilled in this flick. A 10-minute anime
sequence seems gory enough, but
Tarantino proves live action can rival
even the best animation with his limb
chopping, head-popping rumbles. He
makes bloodshed into an art form, and
that's not from a fight choreography
standpoint. Hell, if he only proves Uma
Thurman looks good in red, that's
College students create
confessional poetry slam
by Mark K. Matthews
The Orlando Sentinel
Walking into a practice session of Us/Slam Cul
tural Jam feels like eavesdropping on an entire af
ternoon of intense group therapy.
"My friends wear big black sunglasses. Not be
cause of fashion, but because their boyfriends punch
them in the face."
"I'm a lesbian, but my mother cries whenever I
bring it up. Mom said she would rather I shoot her
in the head than tell her that."
It continues
"I'm a proud virgin." "I'm the son of a drug ad
dict." "I love this country." "I hate this country."
"I'm gay." "I'm black." "I'm young."
"I'm angry."
"These guys have so much to say, but they don't
have an avenue to express it," says producer Nao
Tsurumaki
To pry out this fury, Tsurumaki and a team of
students and staff at the University of Central
Florida created Us/Slam Cultural Jam, a spoken
word compilation that's raw in every facet.
The stories are uncomfortable, and the actors feel
untested. The more than a dozen monologues --
more aptly, a series of confessionals told through
rap, rant and poetry--are composed and performed
by a generation of UCF students weaned on cyni
cism and looking for an outlet.
"We thought it would be great to make a show
out of this environment. This has to be done by col
lege students, by people of our generation," says
Tsurumaki, 23. To take it beyond the typical pa
rade of youthful angst, Tsurumaki and director Be
Boyd tried to gather a large diversity of voices, to
see how they contrasted both with each other and
with mainstream thought.
Uma Thurman duels with Chiaki Kuriyama in Quentin Tarantino's "Kill Bill."
enough for me.
"Kill Bill" was split into two movies
by the same the Miramax heads who last
year made Scorsese chop up his epic
"Gangs of New York," but volume one's
ferocious bloodbaths make the film's
The Behrend Beacon
-111-minute runtime seem like a flash.
It could have easily survived its origi
nal four-hour length. Thankfully, the
film's open ending is delicately laid out,
unlike the disappointing paper cutter
chops of "The Lord of the Rings" films.
"Kill Bill," directed by Quentin
Tarantino, starring Uma Thurman,
Vivica A. Fox, and Lucy Lui; and "In
tolerable Cruelty," directed by Joel
Coen, starring George Clooney and
Catherine Zeta-Jones, are currently
showing at Tinseltown and the West
Erie Plaza Cinemas.
Saul Williams performs on "Def Poetry," HBO's
slam poetry show.
the late tap dancer and actor, through music and
dance. Another honors her father, a U.S. soldier who
served in Vietnam. Others rail against the state of
American politics. In many, sex, identity and ste
reotypes are common themes.
Mollie Dußose, a 21-year-old senior raised in
Gainesville, Ha., tells the story of when she revealed
to her parents that she likes girls. It's a free-form
poem that underlines the very real nature of Us/
Slam Cultural Jam.
"I'm trying to get my parents to come, but I don't
think they will," Dußose says over coffee after a
practice. "They've never missed anything I've ever
done, even if I was doing stage crew."
About 200 people attended the opening slam
Tuesday night, but Dußose's parents were not in
the crowd. Instead, they have given her a book on
"how not to be gay."
"They don't want to come because I'm talking
about being gay," she said.
But "it has to be raw like that," says performer
Nzingha Alexander, 20, of the slam subjects. "If
it's not raw, it can't resonate as truth."
The hope, performers and organizers say, is that
the truth of the confessionals will lure people to
leap on stage and tell their own stories. And even
tually, Boyd said, they would like to see Us/Slam
Cultural Jam travel to different campuses and in
spire more shows of its kind.
Alexander's story is a simple, angry missive to
black men from black women. It's a monologue in
spired by one phone call, but "there are a couple of
other guys that helped mold it," she says.
"I was so upset, I hung up the phone, took out a
writing pad and wrote it. I think it was a great time
to write the piece," Alexander says.
It's changed little since then, and least of all her
favorite portion: the finale.
"We're angry because we have a (expletive) right
to be angry. But most of all, we're angry because
we'd rather let you see us angry than to see us hurt."
A&E Editor's note: Interested in slam poetry? The
Lion Entertainment Board will be sponsoring The
Coffee House Series featuring a slam poet every
Saturday in November. For more information call
898-6221 or visit wwwclubs.psu.edu/bd/leb.
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