Liftingfaces

The art of Souther Salazar 01 02.

So the performers have performed, the judges cast their judgement, voters phoned in their votes. Without a doubt, this was one of the best finales we’ve seen in all eight seasons of the show. And what are we left with? Two artists who have the relevance, talent and ability to sell millions of albums, that’s what.

In the red corner we have Adam Lambert, a Steven Tyler meets Steve Perry meets Nathan Lane type of stage character, and perhaps the first finalist who can really tap into the rock genre and have an impact in the way Carrie Underwood did in country music (I’m not sure if I should count the Nickelback-niched band Daughtry or not). He can definitely sing and perform, and has legions of fans ready to fight for him. His cover of Gary Jules’ cover of Tears for Fears was perhaps the highlight of the season when he first performed it a few weeks back.

And in the blue corner, the proverbial underdog Kris Allen. We’d barely heard a peep about this laid back singer in the auditions portion of the season, and he’s only gotten stronger as the weeks have gone by. I appreciate his ability to perform with an instrument, and feel his presence every time he plays. He fills that John Mayer, Jack Johnson, 311, Starbucks café niche perfectly. His connection to the audience and fans alike is different from Lambert in many ways, though he is just as willing to reinterpret a song, take risks, and make the performances his own. He doesn’t have the vocal prowess of Lambert, but he does possess more of that everyman, ordinary Joe quality which may take viewers by surprise tonight.

Their songs in the finale were for the most part excellent. Round 3 didn’t a prayer, as it was the Idol songwriter’s song round (ugh). But Allen’s “Ain’t No Sunshine,” and Lambert’s “A Change is Gonna Come,” left it all on the table for the viewers to decide. Allen had the misfortune of ending with an overreaching rendition of the crappy Round 3 song.

I predict Adam Lambert wins, narrowly. I wouldn’t be shocked if Allen pulls one out of the hat however, and I’d be happy either way. We have to remember that Danny Gokey fans had to cast their votes for someone last night, after all. Who do you think they are more likely to latch onto?

But I also predict both of these artists will produce more hits than all previous artists (with the exception of Carrie Underwood, who entered a very anemic country genre when she left the show). I would choose Kris Allen if the decision were in my hands, but with Gokey out of the competition due to a lack of taste and risk-taking, both of these guys would have been my second and third choices for the finals.

It’s worth noting that neither of these contestants have ever visited the bottom three until the final four week. It seems America has gotten it right this season, in my humble opinion.

“Your way of life is getting in the way of your life.” – Dave Doughman (Swearing At Motorists)

I’ve been sworn to secrecy and can’t say too much, but just let me say this: I think you are all in for a very special treat come July 21, 2009.

(Album review forthcoming)

Paramount presents a film directed by J. J. Abrams. Screenplay by Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman. Running time: 126 minutes. MPAA rating: PG-13 (for sci-fi action and violence, and brief sexual content).

Film Rating: 87%

Star Trek the umpteenth reboot to one of the most iconic and successful and rebooted franchises in TV and film history. It’s a prequel (my friend called it Dawson’s Trek, which after watching I can’t say I really agree with), which is nothing new in and of itself, but funny how a relative newcomer to Hollywood (J.J. Abrams) is showing old timers like George Lucas how it should be done.

This film, in its very concept, works in broad strokes, taking us from the birth of Jim Kirk to his inevitable rite of passage as the more commonly known Captain Kirk. This inevitability is important, because the franchise was up against two factors here; on one hand, they needed to entertain and keep the die hard and part-time Trekkies alike giddy until the end; on the other, they had to initiate a new legion of fans (myself included) into the world of the U.S.S. Enterprise. On the most basic level, I’d say they succeed at both, but not without a few sacrifices and distractions.

First of all, Star Trek was entertaining and fun (for lack of any overly sophisticated words). I found myself cringing as Kirk tried desperately to seek shelter on the ice planet. I clung to every Scottish syllable Montgomery Scott (Scotty) issued forth. And though the romantic element was slightly thin overall, I found solace in an unexpected flame sparked around the half way point of the film. The world building sustained my interest, suspending my disbelief just long enough to get the job done. There were a couple of Armageddon moments, where if you blinked you missed the plot detours, which were usually fed to us by Sulu or Checkov (funny in his Polish dialect, though not as funny as Eugene Hutz in Everything Is Illuminated, who would have been a more interesting casting choice).

Secondly, and equally as important when reading other reviews of this film and wondering why it is not held in the same esteem as, say, the original Star Wars, or even Casino Royale, is that Star Trek is also (for all of its charms) a very pedestrian movie. The plotting was mostly text book sci-fi pulp drivel, the characters strained yet never bent beyond their predeterined archetypes, and the dialog (while entertaining) never held any true sense of import. Moments of sage wisdom or contemplative decision-making came across as telegraphed punches, making the comic relief less sharp than it could have been. Where was the risk? The existentialist Stephen Hawking theories? Why tread lightly when you should be going boldly? I felt like the revelations in this film could have been as epic as the visuals themselves set out to be.

I was surprised by the devotion to Spock as a pivot-point of the plot. You would have thought it might have easily become a journey of Kirk’s rites of passage to becoming captain. I think it was a wise move to shift away from that pitfall, lest it feel too much like the Anakin Skywalker’s rise to Darth Vader. The central conflict—involving an alien race hell-bent on revenge, the Romulans—was just okay, nothing original or Earth-shattering (actually…). That aspect of the film felt like filler to me, the misguided revenge as a weak crux in the middle of a rollicking space opera epic. The macguffin itself, however, I rather liked; the whole red matter as pebble-in-a-pond motif worked for me here (literally) on an inter-planetary level.

A moment’s attention on the cinematography. I am a fan of J.J. Abrams, and LOST may be one of the all-time greatest television series of all time, but I swear to Jacob himself when I say that I lost count of how many lens flares he used within the first two minutes of the film. I think he even managed to get a flare in on a predawn landscape. He made Michael Mann look like Ken Burns after this. Combine that with J.J.’s newfangled Paul Greengrass inflected handheld maneuvering, and you have a movie that only functions at least twelve rows back from the front. This is an important footnote, for there is nothing as distracting as a camera who is overly aware of herself. I could almost hear her speaking to me like a fledgling pigeon, saying “Watch me, aren’t I clever?” on more than one occasion.

All of that said, I give this film a smiley face with a wink. I loved watching Chris Pine (James Kirk) and Zachary Quinto (Spock, aka Sylar in Heroes, aka a much better choice for the role than the once-courted Adrien Brody) build up their repoire over the course of the film. I really thought several of the scenes were wonderfully imaginative (Vulcan’s educational pods springs to mind, along with the sky diving down to the Romulan’s drill base scene). The acting was over the top but worked for the material, and besides a few of the interior shots of Starship Enterprise (see image below), Abrams managed to eschew the b-movie film/TV series connotations (ie. M.A.S.H. in spandex).

Star Trek is most certainly the first of many new films in an instantly rejuvenated franchise, the denouement alone made that much clear. They’ve rebooted the Bond franchise successfully, why not Star Trek? I can already imagine the sequel in my head; you know, the one where Kirk tries to change the past and rekindle his relationship with his father, only to be faced with a difficult choice when the fate of a helpless planet hangs in the balance. The one where black holes act like quick sand because the CG effects can look cooler. The one with lens flares used as glints on teeth and eyes, just because it makes everything look better. Yeah that one. See you at the theater in a couple years for more.

Oh, before signing off, I just wanted to mention how I found myself tying some of the logic of time travel in this film back to Abram’s LOST project, and actually I think he dropped some clues in this film. Anyone else catch that?

Manny Pacquiao and Ricky Hatton, two of the most acclaimed boxers in the sport, faced off last night in Las Vegas. Many people speculated that brute strength would rule the day. Others posited the fight would come down to speed and elusiveness. Well it turned out they were both right.

Only it was Pacquiao in possession of both, as he steam-rolled the “naturally bigger man”, scoring two knockdowns in round 01 (one a perfectly timed counter right cross, apparently the very punch they worked on in the gym; the other an imposing straight left which connected with Ricky’s glove and subsequently into his face). I worried we might see a repeat of the Juan Manuel Marquez rematch, where Pacquiao knocked Marquez down three times in round 01, only to win a controversial decision.

But then I remembered that this is Ricky Hatton, the Manchester brawler who doesn’t back down, who doesn’t run away… who doesn’t adapt or adjust, try as he may. It only took one more round to be reassured that Hatton, good as he is, was not as good as Marquez last night.

The winning blow came in the waning seconds of round 2; a vicious Bruce Lee inspired left hook to the chin, torquing Ricky’s face and sending the Hitman flailing unconscious into the deep blue canvas (aka next Tuesday). Fortunately Hatton is okay; the way he went down it could have gone either way.

People can talk all they like about the “walk around weight” Hatton puts on between fights. That doesn’t really tell the whole story, however, as was demonstrated in this match-up. It has more to do with what strength and weight and speed and skill you bring with you into the ring, not out. Both of these fighters have huge fan-bases, immense country pride, and original, highly likable personas (case-in-point: watch the HBO 24/7 series).

But more importantly than all of that, both fighters are well-known knockout punchers. It just so happens that Pacquiao is about five times faster than Hatton, and Hatton is pretty fast. I’m not sure who you would consider to be the stronger fighter based on last night’s performance, but I’ll reserve my opinion for now.

I wonder, however, will the pundits reflect upon this victory and say Hatton just had an “off night” or perhaps it was simply a “bad game plan” or maybe Manny “landed a lucky shot”? Will they marginalize Pacquiao’s dominance once again? I surely hope not; that would be half-witted and foolhardy.

However, the critics were quick to throw caveats in the air following his win against De La Hoya, the same critics who deemed Manny the statistical underdog. Manny then went on to utterly dismantle the Golden Boy over the course of ten painful-to-watch rounds. Apparently Pacquiao actually didn’t prove he was a great fighter in their eyes though; Oscar was simply out of shape, dehydrated, past his prime. Funny, though, how much better De La Hoya looked against Mayweather just one year before, when none other than Freddy Roach was training him (Roach, who has been Pacquiao’s trainer and surrogate father for eight years and running; Roach, whom De La Hoya promptly fired after his loss).

But I digress. No matter how you look at it, whether you claim Hatton couldn’t pick himself up and evolve following his heartbreaking loss to Mayweather, or whether you believe Pacquiao is the undeniable pound-for-pound boxer in the world. Only one real question remains:

Will Pacquiao fight Floyd Mayweather Jr., and get to be the only fighter in the sport to deliver the Pretty Boy a loss?

Or will Juan Manuel Marquez beat him to the punch come this July? I believe it will be one or the other who does the honors, and hopefully the Pride of the Philippines gets the shot. As the boxer who single-handedly (the left hand, specifically) dethroned and dismantled the nearly empirical reign of Mexican warriors far and wide (Erik Morales, Marco Antonio Barrera, Juan Manuel Marquez, Oscar De La Hoya), Pacquiao has certainly earned it.