Giant Robot Store and GR2 News
Fishbone should have been one of the biggest bands in the world. In the late ’80s and early ’90s I got to see them play with and stand toe-to-toe with heavyweights like the Chili Peppers, No Doubt, Public Enemy, Rage Against The Machine, and a ton of others who went on to become huge. But being an exceptional live band with incredible musicianship and a totally unique style–starting with ska, moving into funk, and venturing into free jazz but always with a punk rock attitude–doesn’t mean the mainstream will catch on. (Even if we did feature them in Robot Power.) And so the band soldiers on with three original members, including hyperactive singer Angelo Moore and impossibly versatile bassist Norwood Fisher, pleasing a small-but-loyal fan base while barely paying the bills. Their new EP, Crazy Glue, comes out on October 11.
Filmmakers Lev Anderson and Christopher Metzler have created an unorthodox, excellent documentary about Fishbone, following band members around their humble lives, tracking down their famous friends, and filling in the blanks with funky animation and amazing live footage. Everyday Sunshine, which follows its hugely successful film festival run by opening in New York City on October 7 and rolling out theatrically afterward, will appeal to fans of the band, critics of the music industry, and students of subculture. It’s emotional without being sensational and powerful while remaining complex. It will speak to any outsider who struggles personally and financially while dedicating his or her life to something creative and meaningful.
The Chef
On September 27, Fox World Cinema is releasing two eye-popping imports with hyper-saturated colors, fast-moving edits, and overlapping plots shown from multiple points of view. Both have earned some deserved slamming for trendy style, sloppy narrative, and lack of depth, but don’t they deserve your strained eyeballs, precious time, and individual judgment?
The Butcher
The Butcher, The Chef, and The Swordsman reeks of the short attention span and glossiness one might expect from a director of commercials. But while Wuershan’s look and editing have layers upon layers of gimmickry (shifting film stocks, video game references, rock and hip-hop on the soundtrack…), the characters are as raw as can be. Liu Xiaoye plays the first of the movie’s three namesakes, burping, spitting, suffering permanent bedhead, and lusting after an unattainable hooker (Kitty Zhang from Stephen Chow’s CJ7) exactly as a Mainlander might have been portrayed in Hong Kong movies 15 years ago. The scheming, vengeance-seeking, quick-chopping middle character is played with comparable subtlety by Ando Masanobu (Battle Royale, Kids Return). As for the swordsman played by Ashton Xu, his confidence proves to be a bigger undoing than his colleagues’ inaction. That the protagonists in such a vehicle are so utterly pathetic–and not in an ironic Revenge of the Nerds manner–is actually pretty cool. Shockingly, the three plots stand out from one another despite being intertwined and somewhat complement each other, too. And despite the world being shown as glossy, it’s also bitter and brutal. You can’t polish a turd, but Wuershan packages the shittiness of the world in a deceptively fun and underhandedly smart way in his debut feature.