Posts by Douglas Robinson12

wanderingraven20 said:...I'll say it again, the plain truth is that Stravinsky was churning out an incredible amount of truly priceless masterpieces somewhere between 1908 and 1925...

In my book, he produced way more than everything written by Cage, Copland et al. far outweighs that.

lonelynx16 said:I’ve been spending way too much time lately obsessing over this director, mostly because I can't get over how much ground he covered in such a tragically short life. It’s honestly wild when you look at his filmography—he managed to build this massive, incredibly rich body of work in what feels like the blink of an eye. You look at the sheer volume of what he left behind, and it makes you wonder how someone could pack that much vision and intensity into such a limited window of time.
I honestly have no idea how to actually track down his movies. I don’t know a single soul who even owns one of his films, let alone has them on streaming services. It’s a struggle. But, there might be a silver lining if you're looking for a deep dive: in mid-March, there’s going to be an exhibition dedicated to Martin Scorsese over in New York City at the Institute of Contemporary Art. They’re calling it "Scorsese: Taxi Driver," focusing specifically on that iconic series.

So, I’ve been sitting here thinking about this—do you actually know this guy's work? Have you ever sat down and really let one of his films wash over you? I mean, I was rewatching some old classics the other night, nursing a lukewarm coffee, and it hit me how much people still sleep on his filmography. It's one of those things where you think you get the vibe, but then you see the way he frames a shot or handles a character's slow descent into madness, and you realize you haven't seen anything yet. Honestly, if you haven't spent some quality time with his stuff, you're missing out on a massive piece of cinematic history.

Honestly, it would be about time if CNN finally decided to air that 13-part series *Taxi Driver*. I mean, let’s face it—we’re all pretty much obsessed with gritty, heavy-hitting cinematic masterpieces anyway, so why not give us something substantial to chew on? We already spend half our lives consuming everything coming out of the European art scene, so we might as well lean into it and actually watch something legendary for once.

I can't say I totally get what the writer was getting at with that quote above, but hey, why not? Honestly, NBC has basically already done it back in the day when they were still calling themselves the local station. And what is there even to say about Fassbinder besides the fact that he’s easily one of the absolute best.

Of course they don't fit the mold. But honestly, so many people argue that some of those bands were heavily inspired by Glam Rock, at least when they were just starting out. Now, whether you call Twisted Sister, Mötley Crüe, The Ratt, or Quiet Riot "hair metal," "glam metal," or just both... man, I haven't the slightest clue.

Dana Anderson4 said:What I mean is, this whole Glam Rock narrative has always felt a little forced to me. Like, if you look at T. Rex, or even Duran Duran and David Bowie, they honestly could have functioned perfectly fine without all that flashy, over-the-top component. If we step back and look at them today, you can see how musically distinct they actually are from one another, :

I don't find it forced at all. Maybe you just didn't live through it. Bolan basically stopped functioning "normally" after that specific phase (you know, right after >), but before that—during the John's Children era leading up to the end of Tyrannosaurus Rex, specifically that Hot Love>> single—he was playing an entirely different game. It's the same story with Bowie. Bowie paired with Mick Ronson is peak Bowie, though he had some great stuff early on and plenty of hits later too. Now, Roxy is a different beast altogether, as is Sparks, but to my ears, those first two albums sound incredibly Glam (take > for example). Honestly, his first record with Brian Eno feels even more Glam than the first two Roxy albums. And there’s a whole sea of other killer bands in the first half of the 70s that possessed that specific sound. Sure, some leaned more toward pop while others went full art-rock. To throw some names into the mix alongside the ones mentioned: The Rats, Iron Cross, Hollywood Brats, Hello, Geordie, and The Jook (the latter being more pub glam, almost bordering on pop-punk—very British style, not like anything out of SoCal). What I'm getting at is that when I listen to these bands, I distinctly hear those "Ronson-Bolan" guitars, that heavy "thump thump" bass sitting deep in the mix, massive stadium drums, and a certain percussive swagger. It's the sonic equivalent of sex. They share a common sonic DNA. More importantly, they were products of their era, much like Krautrock, Punk, The Beatles, or Elvis, or even the American New Wave—which ties into so many things: from more liberal attitudes toward sex to the fact that a generation was forming that felt nostalgic for old-school rock 'n' roll, prompting "new kids" to reinvent it to make it interesting for their own peers (something the punks would eventually do by taking Chuck Berry riffs and playing them faster and way worse). Plus, let's be real, Glam—much like Mod or Punk—was essentially invented by the most obnoxious middle class in existence, the English, of course. For me, the fashion is secondary; it’s just a stage uniform. Glam definitely has its "look," but Metal and Punk have looks too. Just as Metal and Punk have their own signature sounds, Glam absolutely has its own.

Now, in any pop scene, you're going to have people jumping on the bandwagon just to chase a paycheck or some fleeting fame. Even in its prime, Glam wasn't immune to that, though it was relatively more authentic. I mean, look at Ricky Wild. I guess he has a certain camp value today, similar to the fashion of that era. What about Showadawady? Or Kiss? Even they had brilliant moments (like >) along with guys like Gary Glitter or Suzy Quatro. And man, Slade>>—those first three albums are absolute gold! Not to mention the absolutely fantastic first seven or eight Alice Cooper albums (don't forget, Johnny Rotten "sang" > at his Sex Pistols audition). Glam got a bad rap because of those 80s hair metal bands—guys who just threw on some scraps to look good on MTV (a total product of their time!). They definitely understood Paul Stanley's lesson (something like, "I'm a rock 'n' roll star... my job is to hook up with every woman within fifty yards," if I recall correctly), but they completely missed the point of actual rock 'n' roll. By the way, are there any "guitar" records that sound more grating than those 80s hair metal albums?

Musically speaking, > isn't even really "jumping on" Glam... to me, it sounds more like Meat Loaf. It belongs in the "70s Oddities" category. Back then, they called it a rock opera. Today, we'd probably just call it kitsch. > deals with sex, sure, just like Glam does, but Glam is a much, much broader umbrella. Take a band like Queen—could you call them pastoral Glam? Maybe, at least on their first couple of records. Or Brega—the ultimate pop bandwagon. It's like a Glam version of Chuck Berry's Rock 'n' Roll Music, demonstrated by some variety show act on a late-night American TV special. Still, Brega had some genuinely great quasi-glam moments, especially on their second record—songs like "You're shouting at the whole village" or "That's how it is, my dear..." and "Pose, my horses!" (which leans into that Hot Chocolate vibe—more like Glitter before the Glam really hit).

Look, let me tell you something—Glam Rock is the real deal; there’s absolutely no point in even bringing his name up if you don't get it.

Adam Ross4 said:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBcpJKkAHH8 😈 😈 😈

And man, that bass line is just pure sexy too... 😉

That's exactly it!

It was one of those moments that felt almost like someone was whispering, "Hey, slow down, grab a drink, and just let the night flow through you..." Honestly, even the video itself was pretty solid.

RIP.

The only ex-Yugoslav band I can actually remember having ZZ in their name was ZZ pasta, out of the BG area, but man, that's a whole different conversation.

That movie and honestly, that specific scene. An elaboration? Man, I don't even know where to start... if I actually find some downtime later, maybe I'll give you a full elaboration. I'm just slammed right now.

ironcrane7 said:If you ask me, that scene where he's flirting with Jane Birkin drags on just a tiny bit too long and feels a little too stiff, but hey, that's just my two cents.

Is it even worth mentioning? It was a monumental waste of time—cinematic time, specifically. Honestly, the whole movie was a total wash. At least, if you ask me, which I guess you shouldn't, but hey, that's just my two cents.

Is that guy still around?

Needle of Death (Bert Jansch), Waiting for my man (heroin is good... hmm, but this is pretty great too), Purple Haze.

northerncrane4 said:Watching someone else's life can be pretty jarring and unpredictable if you aren't fully tuned in, especially when you're looking at a protagonist from an Anderson film. It’s even trickier if the viewer doesn't have that inherent need to realize that other people are living lives that are fundamentally different from their own.
A rondo, on the other hand, is something a spectator who knows what a rondo actually is can recognize instantly—it’s easy to define because it follows its own logic.
So, if a director draws inspiration from the messy flow of real life, they’re going to make a movie where the characters' motivations and the cause-and-effect of the scenes aren't always crystal clear. You might even end up calling those characters caricatures. But does that mean Željko Malnar and his crew are caricatures just because they don't live like us? Not that I'm saying Željko Malnar and his group are anything like Steve Zissou's crew.
......

👋 👋 👋

So you've finally started burning files onto a CD, huh? 😉 I totally get where you're coming from regarding how differently these characters live compared to most people, but I honestly fear Anderson didn't quite nail that portrayal. To me, the issue feels less like directing and more like an unfinished or underdeveloped script, which is why the characters often come across as flat or cartoonish. Even Tannebaum feels "different," yet there's still something deeply touching about the connection between Luka Wilson and Paltrow (especially that tent scene where they hit two incredible tracks from Between the Buttons that play continuously in real-time)—it's why I actually buy into these characters.

I don't claim to be an expert by any means, but Malnar's crew is basically the definition of a caricature, whereas Malnar himself is a very pragmatic guy, which makes him anything but a caricature.

All's Well That Ends Well, as some old-school stylist would say.

Peace Love & Understanding. 👋

Look, if you were willing to give me some "ultimate enlightenment," maybe I’d consider giving you something back in return. But honestly, all I’m asking for is a breakdown of your actual stances using specific examples from this movie. I’ve always been the type who likes to pull life lessons out of cinema whenever I can. Besides, life doesn't just wander around randomly, and the structure of a rondo definitely isn't accidental either. Since it seems like you don't have much to offer here—or maybe you just can't be bothered to put in the work—let's just agree to disagree. At the end of the day, I'm probably not going to get the explanation I'm looking for from you anyway.

The thing is, you haven't really made a coherent point yet. Just to jog your memory: you were talking about structures that mimic the flow of life and characters who actually act like real people... Honestly, is there even a single movie out there where those two things don't apply, unless we're strictly talking about some weird experimental indie flick?

Alright, let's get moving here... I've got some pretty specific questions for you guys.

So, what exactly is it about the structure of Life Aquatica that feels so inherently tied to its soul, rather than some other flick, you know? Like, what part of it really captures that sense of how life just flows? I’m looking for specific examples from the movie here. Which scenes—and I realize I'm drifting into plot territory instead of sticking strictly to structure—are the ones that don't follow those typical, predictable dramatic patterns? And why does that matter so much for the whole vibe of the characters at the heart of Anderson's film? Is Anderson actually pushing the envelope when it comes to dramatic structures, or is he just doing a bit of stylistic "show off" for the sake of it? Also, does Anderson ever mess with the linear flow of the story—you know, that cause-and-effect thing—using certain cinematic elements to tell us something deeper about the characters or the message? Finally, what's the deal with the structure of a rondo (and the concept of rondo itself), and where do you see those same patterns showing up in Life Aquatic? Give me some real, concrete examples.

I mean, if you're suggesting the film's structure mirrors the flow of life, then you're basically saying the film itself is deeply connected to life. Plus, you aren't just talking about structure anymore; you're getting into specific scenes, which means you're diving into the actual plot too.

Everything I've been getting at so far is just that maybe Anderson's whole motivation was to frame the movie this way—to capture that specific feeling of how life just sort of flows along.

So, looking at all this, it’s pretty clear that *Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou* actually tries to mirror the flow of real life through its structure. If a movie is built on the idea that "life just keeps moving," then you really ought to be able to say something meaningful about the characters—treating them like actual people rather than just walking caricatures. For that to work, the plot itself needs to feel grounded in reality; otherwise, you’re basically just watching a fancy stylistic exercise. To me, that’s the fundamental divide between someone like Berkovic and Anderson. At the end of the day, having a tight structure is great and all, but structure alone doesn't make a good film or a true work of art.

Besides that, life—in most cases, anyway—tends to play out through these predictable patterns and repetitive loops (which is just an empirical fact, by the way, and I’m not even trying to be snarky about your little dig at those "self-help" manuals), so things turn out way differently than what we see unfolding in Life Aquatic. To be honest, I don't think Anderson was even preoccupied with how "life actually flows" when he was making this movie, and I'm pretty sure that's his vibe too whenever I catch him in an interview, which, honestly, is totally fair.

Honestly, looking back at all those films I mentioned, I find myself connecting with their characters way more than I ever could with anyone from a Wes Anderson flick. It’s not even about the acting; it’s just that his characters feel a bit too curated, you know? In the movies I was talking about, people feel real because they’re actually shaped by these heavy life constraints—you see how their motivations and everything they do are basically just frantic attempts to escape the hand they were dealt. Take that female lead in L'Atalante, for instance. It’s that sense of being pushed by something bigger than yourself, whether it's pure fate—kind of like those intense German films from before the Hitler era—or just the crushing weight of their social circumstances, like you see in classic Film Noir. Sometimes it's just a bad hand they were dealt, like the tension in Rio Bravo or High Noon, or even just how they deal with a completely random, freak occurrence, like what happens in L'Avantura. That kind of grit and unpredictability makes them feel human to me, whereas Anderson's crew always feels a little too much like they're living in a stylized dollhouse.

Look, I totally get that these movies were made in different eras and have their own distinct vibes, but I honestly feel like pulling the Rondo example into this doesn't really track with Life Aquatic at all. A Rondo's structure isn't just some random choice, either. It’s actually pretty calculated—it starts with how the main theme is phrased, then moves into that repetitive pattern, and finally works out how those individual "episodes" relate back to the core theme through harmony. Some musicologists even talk about "fundamental harmonic..." I was just sitting here thinking about all those big, sweeping plans we always seem to make, you know? It’s funny how we map everything out in our heads—every little detail, every step of the way—only to have life throw a massive curveball right when we think we've finally got it figured out. I tend to get a bit too caught up in the specifics sometimes, maybe being a little too deliberate with my vision for how things should unfold, but I guess that's just how I'm wired. It's like you spend all this energy building this perfect blueprint, and then reality just decides to take a different route entirely. Still, I suppose there's a certain charm in the dreaming part, isn't there? Even if most of it ends up being nothing more than a beautiful, disorganized mess.When it comes to composing a rondo or messing around with other Baroque structures—and obviously, I'm not talking about the circle of fifths or those basic harmony rules we all learned in music school—I don't really mind if someone uses the concept of a rondo as a metaphor for the flow of life. Honestly, life isn't nearly as random as people like to claim, and that’s not just my two cents; it's just how things work. It's especially cool when that comparison actually says something meaningful about the characters in a film, a play, or a novel—specifically how that rigid "structure," or rather its inherent constraints, defines and drives the characters in the way Berkovic does in Rondo.

Look, I’ve got absolutely nothing against how you experienced the movie—honestly, everyone sees things differently, and I totally respect your take—but I have to say, your explanation regarding Wes Anderson's motivations behind Life Aquatic feels a little wild to me. Just based on what I see when I watch Life Aquatic, his whole approach seems to be defined by this weirdly detached way he works with his actors and those characters who feel incredibly one-dimensional. Plus, the script and the mise-en-scène are just so wildly chaotic and all over the place; the movie is practically bursting with that kind of stylistic excess. (Your explanation:

Maybe Anderson's whole motivation was just to craft the film so it flows exactly how life actually does.

)

I’ve also been scratching my head over why they decided to pull Berkovic's rondo out of the mix like that... it just doesn't sit right with me. I'm honestly not quite sure what we're diving into here, so if anyone's looking for some clarifications or just needs me to break things down, feel free to lay it out for me. I'll try my best to make sense of it all, though I can't promise I won't get a little carried away with the details. Just let me know what's on your mind! Just my two cents, but if you look closely, I think the whole point of rondo is that it lacks all that random unpredictability. It's defined specifically by that absence of chaos.

The real issue with this whole thread is that you haven't even attempted to back up that take of yours you shared earlier. I'm not really getting hung up on whether your opinion is "right or wrong"—at the end of the day, it's just an opinion—but I am genuinely curious about the logic behind it, because, honestly, your stance on this movie feels a little bizarre to me. Plus, you still haven't explained how Berkovic's rondo actually connects to or justifies that perspective of yours.

You’re just circling the drain here, man. Honestly, nothing new under the sun. There aren't any actual arguments being made, just more of the same. I’m sitting here waiting for that education of yours to finally kick in and show some results. See, the thing is, we aren't just talking about how a movie makes you feel; we're trying to figure out why someone would take a highly stylized film full of caricatured characters—whose behavior basically needs to be justified by throwing in random pop-culture references—and perceive it as being "full of life." I mean, hey, I don't doubt that's how you felt about it, but I was actually hoping to hear an explanation that ties back to the film itself—you know, the structure, the plot, the actual craft... because the examples you're throwing out don't even really relate to *this* specific movie. It might be possible to see it your way, sure, but it could also just be a result of missing, or maybe just ignoring, certain "rules" that define how life actually works. "Brick" would probably listen if you actually had something concrete to say regarding the *actual* topic at hand.

!!?!?!?!? Seriously??? Another insult? Just a friendly reminder here: I'm still waiting on your arguments if we’re ever going to have a semi-coherent conversation. We have two specific topics on the table: 1. Whether *Life Aquatic* is actually a "life-defining" film or not, and 2. Whether life is mostly just random chaos or largely predetermined. My question hasn't changed: walk me through your take on Rondo in relation to *Life Aquatic*. Let's try to actually stick to the topic, shall we?

Alright, here's your new homework assignment: Look into the role of fate in German cinema during the 20s and 30s (think "From Caligari to Hitler"—you can even check out the book by Lotte Eisner with that same title) and what happens when characters try to "play" fate (our usual suspects: Lang, Pabst, and Murnau). Then, figure out how those films influenced and essentially defined the whole poetic vibe and psychology of American Film Noir. To wrap it all up: give some thought to Antonioni's films, especially *Adventure*, and how the sheer grind of modern existence completely paralyzes a person (the "leftist" critics would call it alienation) and how that individual reacts to a "random event." Hint: it's a lot different from how Anderson's characters act, which is exactly what makes Antonioni's people feel human while Anderson's tend to feel a bit more like caricatures. There'll be a test this Monday. Better get ready.

Look, you’re the one who started this whole thing by using sarcasm to imply I "don't get it," so let's not flip the script here. Your point about the structure of Rondo (and Rondo's role) is... well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? But honestly, I'm still sitting here waiting for you to explain how that specific "structure" actually connects to the potential "vitality" of Life Aquatic—or at least what Anderson was trying to say about "life" itself, if he was even aiming for that—because that’s the movie we’re actually talking about. If you’re going to lecture me on "film structure," then surely you should be addressing the plot too. So, come on, lay it out for me.

By the way, maybe give some thought to how "life's necessities" and dramatic stakes drive characters in Berkovic's work, versus how they motivate characters in The Bicycle Thief, or High Noon, or even Rio Bravo... and let's not forget L'Atalante. If life is mostly woven from "necessity" and just a little bit from "coincidence"—which is how most people see it anyway—then a truly great director should probably say something meaningful about that without "lying" to the audience. They should only bend the truth as much as absolutely necessary, the way Berkovic, DeSica, Zimmerman, Hawks, or Vigo do. In my opinion, IMO Anderson doesn't do that in Life Aquatic—not even close. To me, it feels like a disappointing step backward compared to certain scenes in the Tenenbaums (like the stuff between Paltrow and Luke Wilson) or Bottle Rocket.

Alright, that's enough from me for one day. Heading to the theater now.