Monday, July 2, 2018

The 15:17 to Paris [film review]

Released theatrically on February 9th; now available on all physical and digital media platforms 

Written for Live in the Six

Clint Eastwood may have just turned 88 on May 31st, but his more than 60-year-long career continues rolling on. Eastwood’s latest project finds him behind the camera for The 15:17 to Paris, which may be the oddest film you’ll watch this year.

It’s based around the events aboard a Paris-bound train in August 2015, when three American tourists stopped a lone terrorist from inflicting mass carnage. The group of Americans (longtime friends Spencer Stone, Alek Skarlatos, and Anthony Sadler) did get some help from a few other passengers, but were the ones who risked the most. Stone, in particular, demonstrated the most bravery by charging the gunman, whose AK-47 jammed before Stone tackled him.

So far, so good, right? Sounds like perfect fodder for a compelling, ripped-from-the-headlines thriller that’s been placed in the hands of a skilled filmmaker. Unfortunately, the dramatic centrepiece of the movie ends up being the only part of it worth watching. And considering the most dramatic part of that event takes up less than five minutes of screen time, that’s a huge problem for a film that runs 94 minutes.

The only part of the film worth watching isn’t just brief, it also doesn’t arrive until shortly before the end credits start rolling (which can’t be considered a spoiler since we know how things are going to play out). Getting to that point in the film will test even the most patient of viewers. The 15:17 to Paris may very well be the most padded movie I've ever seen.

For almost the entirety of its running time, virtually nothing compelling happens onscreen. It’s a slow procession of one exposition scene after another, with precious little of interest actually being exposed. We see a trio of unremarkable young actors playing Stone, Skarlatos, and Sadler growing up in Sacramento (and doing unremarkable things). Then we see the men in their early adult years before Eastwood shifts the film to 2015 and it becomes a beautiful-looking, but painfully boring European travelogue as the trio heads toward their fateful train trip.

With all of these major issues working against it, they’re arguably not even the movie’s biggest problem.No, we haven’t even gotten to the really crazy part yet, which is the fact that Eastwood chose to have Stone, Skarlatos, and Sadler play themselves as adults. If that sounds like an absolutely terrible idea to you, you would be 100% correct.

The leads, all with zero acting experience, are hopelessly lost trying to pull off the feat, especially Skarlatos. And that’s a whole other level of weird, when someone plays themselves onscreen and still doesn’t come across as authentic or natural. They’re not done any favours by the terrible screenplay from Dorothy Blyskal. Then again, she based her work on a book authored by (you guessed it) the three men and writer Jeffrey E. Stern. Like I said...weird. Eastwood also casts a few of the real-life train passengers to play themselves, which only adds a further layer of strangeness to everything if you’re aware of that fact while watching.

Even the real actors in the film fall flat with the thin material they have to work with. The recognizable faces in this drama are all curiously primarily known as comedic actors. They include Judy Greer, Jenna Fisher, Thomas Lennon, Tony Hale, and...Jaleel White? Yes, seeing Steve Urkel in a Clint Eastwood film is a tad surreal.

Despite this being the kind of “American heroes” premise Hollywood loves making and American audiences eat up, it’s still shocking The 15:17 to Paris actually got made. It’s a testament to Eastwood’s legend and influence that he somehow convinced a studio to greenlight a $30 million movie with the glaring issues this one clearly had before filming began.

Eastwood’s leap of faith in casting Stone, Skarlatos, and Sadler as themselves proves to be disatrous. It’s a true shame their noble act aboard that Paris-bound train could be even remotely sullied by their involvement with such a poorly conceived film, especially one helmed by a Hollywood veteran who really should have known better. 

Rating: D

Friday, June 1, 2018

Keith Urban – Grafitti U [album review]

Released on April 27th

Written for Live in the Six

If giving a new Keith Urban album a listen isn’t on your to-do list because, well, you’re just not a country fan, here’s a little secret – he’s not really a country artist. At least not these days.

Yes, Urban’s earliest work may have been more rooted in a country sound. And sure, he came up through the Nashville scene and is still based there. There’s also that hard-to-argue fact that he’s always been exclusively branded and marketed as a country artist, even now.

But if you go back through his catalog of 11 studio albums, you’ll find the country/pop/rock hybrid sound that defined his output up until the past few years has shifted dramatically. 2016’s Ripcord marked an audacious step forward in terms of Urban’s musical experimentation with a more modern pop style, along with an occasional foray into R&B territory.

On Graffiti U, his newest release, Urban comfortably continues to explore some of the unpredictable musical avenues he’s been heading down with each successive album release, while still retaining many of the core elements that got him to where he is. It’s a shame Urban’s desire for poppier songs comes at the expense of letting his guitar talent shine as frequently as it has on past albums, however. That’s another fact that may surprise those who aren’t very familiar with the musician – Urban has absolutely monster guitar skills.

Opening track “Coming Home” shows Urban hasn’t completely abandoned his country roots. A banjo complements the guitar tracks and the song samples a riff from Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried”. Make no mistake, though, this is a pop track, through and through (the accompanying vocals from songwriter/pop singer Julia Michaels help to cement that fact). The bass-heavy “Never Comin’ Down” shows Urban combining funky verses with the kind of rousing arena-ready choruses his fans know well. A melodic bass guitar riff also propels the upbeat “Drop Top”, a song about a free-spirited woman that also gives Urban a chance to work in one of his most oft-used subjects – cars and driving.

The two Graffiti U tracks that adhere most to the kind of sound Urban is perhaps best known for (mid-tempo songs with a great hook) are the excellent “Same Heart” and “Horses”. He also has a long track record with including at least a couple of well-crafted ballads on each album and his latest release is no exception. The soulful “Parallel Line” and “Way Too Long” capably fulfill that requirement here.

The album’s best song is “Female”, which happens to feature Nicole Kidman, Urban’s wife, on background vocals. It’s hard to find much fault with its tasteful musical arrangement that’s highlighted by Urban’s spare, bluesy guitar lines. It’s the song’s lyrics that have drawn the most attention, however. “Female” was first unveiled back in early November, just a few weeks into the #MeToo movement. Some eyebrows were raised with what was perceived to be a patronizing tone in the lyrics that are meant to celebrate women. I personally think it’s much ado about nothing and it bears mentioning that a woman (Nicolle Galyon) co-wrote the song.

Admittedly, Urban undercuts his feminist message somewhat a few songs prior to “Female” with “Gemini”. Whereas the synth-heavy track sounds like it’s right out of the 80s, the cringy “She’s a maniac in the bed, but a brainiac in her head” line feels like it time-warped from the 40s or 50s when men were even less inclined to think a woman’s sexuality and smarts couldn’t co-exist. The song does a lot of things right, though, especially the extended guitar solo at the end that sounds like a clear homage to Thriller-era Michael Jackson in both guitar tone and style. Urban also channels the 80s with some two-handed tapping on Graffiti U’s only other guitar showcase, closing track “Steal My Thunder”.

Calling Graffiti U a heavily collaborative effort would be an understatement. There’s a veritable small army of personnel involved here, including 18 – count ’em, 18 ­­– producers credited (including Urban) for the album’s 13 full tracks. Nearly all the co-producers do double-duty as songwriters as well, in addition to a number of strictly songwriters contributing to the tracks. It’s a formula that doesn’t always work. “My Wave” is the latest in a long line of examples that show why white guys doing reggae is never a good idea. “Love The Way It Hurts (So Good)” just never catches a spark and “Texas Time” evokes the dull, too-laid-back vibe of Sheryl Crow’s “All I Wanna Do”.

Urban’s satisfaction with Ripcord’s results and its fan reception is obvious, if Graffiti U’s pop-centric collection of glossy songs is any indication. The album finds Urban continuing to take risks with his material, while still dipping just enough back into familiar territory to cater to longtime fans less inclined to adapt to the musician’s creative experimentation.

Rating: B

Related posts: my June 2016 review of Urban’s Ripcord album, September 2011 review of the Toronto show on Urban’s Get Closer World Tour, October 2009 review of the Toronto show on Urban’s Escape Together World Tour, and July 2009 review of Urban’s Defying Gravity album