Compliance

Dreama Walker in Compliance

Perception is a funny thing.

What would be your response if a stranger came up to you on the street and asked, "Would you want to watch a movie about a girl being sexually humiliated?"

What if someone you know intimately asked, "Do you want to watch a girl being sexually humiliated?"

And finally, would you willingly witness a girl being sexually humiliated? Now I'm asking you this question, directly.

Does your answer differ depending on how you perceive the question or who is asking the question?

Would your answer differ if the humiliation of the girl was used in a film, rationalized as a convenient vehicle through which other important or relevant questions about societal norms are raised?

If you answered "Yes," "Maybe," or "It depends" to the first or third question, or if your answer changes because it's "just a movie" then perhaps you may find justification for sitting through the entire length of Craig Zobel's film "Compliance."

I couldn't, and didn't.

Not because it disturbed me (I expected- even wanted it to be, disturbing), but because I didn't want to comply with what the director asks from the audience, which is essentially: "Watch this movie about a girl being sexually humiliated in the name of art." Or social commentary. Or even worse, entertainment.

I appreciate extreme cinema and admire filmmakers who are willing to push, even smash, the boundaries of what's considered acceptable. A Serbian Film, Irreversible, I Stand Alone, and Martyrs are examples of films that ask a lot of their viewers and take them to some really horrible places. I don't believe films like these are meant to be enjoyed so much as respected, discussed, and even admired (or in some cases, like Gaspar Noe's Enter the Void, simply endured). There's usually some level of artistic or social merit to be found even in the meanest exploitation, torture-porn or grind house film, however small or inconsequential, and let's admit that it's usually the latter. Even in films with no obvious artistic or social merit, there's still the undeniable entertainment value of a mean thriller like Se7en or a nasty scare like A Nightmare on Elm Street, even if it's not your cup of tea. It's unreasonable (or ignorant) to deny that cathartic pleasures and meta-commentary can be found in the Saw films, Catherine Breillat's oeuvre, or the highest-grossing torture-porn movie ever made, The Passion of the Christ. Just because you may not like it doesn't mean it isn't there.

However, there are some films without any of these qualities whatsoever. They can't be justified. They can't be rationalized. Like child pornography, they exist for no other reason other than there's a market for it. Once in awhile I get fooled into thinking a film is going to be something other than what it is. I sit down expecting to experience a thrill, or a scare, and I'm not opposed to feeling traumatized (A Serbian Film) or pummeled (Requiem for a Dream). Bring it on- I can take it. But instead of experiencing any of those reactions I'm sitting there watching the movie and slowly I start to feel like a sleazebag. Like I'm complicit in something really nasty. Complicit in creating a market for something that has no redeeming value whatsoever. That I'm actively participating in the most base human behavior possible by providing my tacit approval in agreeing to watch what is being portrayed onscreen. Only a handful of films have left me feeling this way, including The Girl Next Door (in my opinion the most reprehensible piece of trash ever filmed) and Hitchcock's masterpiece of misogyny, Frenzy.

Where's the line? I guess it's one of perception. Many consider A Serbian Film to cross the line of what's acceptable. Certainly what's portrayed in that film is vile and the fact that the audience is watching it onscreen feels beyond the pale while it's happening. But the fact that the characters in the film are caught in a web of circumstances controlled by forces greater than they can comprehend drives the film's narrative power, as it does in Martyrs. The characters are victims, to be sure, but they're not stupid, willing victims, and there's power in that kind of narrative, no matter how bleak or horrific the story or plot.

In Compliance the audience is forced to watch characters who are stupid do stupid things, and then do vile things because they're too stupid to know any better (at least in the hour I watched before bailing). During the screening I attended, someone in the audience yelled out "No one is that stupid!" and I'd have to agree. In fact, that's probably a mantra entire audiences will repeat silently to themsleves while watching the film, and perhaps the film's palpable tension comes from waiting for one of the characters, any character, to wise-up. My question is, what are you willing to watch while waiting for that moment to come, especially if there isn't the slightest inkling that it will? The sexual humiliation of a young, ignorant girl? I'm not. For me the tension was all about deciding if I wanted to continue to watch. Did I want to be complicit?

In the film, 19 year-old Becky (Dreama Walker) works the counter at a fast food restaurant managed by the harried, drab, middle-aged Sandra (Ann Dowd). Sandra gets a call from a man impersonating a police officer claiming Becky stole money from a customer's purse. He goes on to explain the police can't come over just yet because they are at Becky's house investigating her brother's drug operation, so until they get there, they need Sandra's assistance in confirming Becky has stolen the money and to detain her until they arrive. Following the cop's instructions, Sandra conducts a strip search of Becky, which yields nothing because Becky hasn't actually done anything. In fact it's obvious from the impersonator's first words his story makes little sense, but Sandra, too dim-witted and distracted to stop and question the implausibility of it all, keeps agreeing to the increasingly invasive and obviously illegal requests from the "officer" on the other end of the line. Unable to find the money Becky has stolen, Sandra summons Van, her fiance who has been drinking all night, to the restaurant to take over Becky's detainment and follow the cop's orders while she goes back to managing the restaurant on a busy Friday night. When the buzzed Van is asked by the cop to tell Becky to remove the apron she's using to cover her now naked body with he complies. And she complies, because the cop tells her it's either agree to this or spend the night in jail. The choice is hers. She chooses to comply, and keeps complying, even though every 19 year-old must know that one is innocent until proven guilty and everyone who has completed high school should have heard the phrase "unlawful search and seizure" at least once- even if only during a TV show. At the point where Van is asked by the "officer" to describe what Becky's nipples look like, and after he hesitates for only a moment before complying with this absurd request, we decided it was time to bail. How much more did we need to see? We weren't the only walk-outs, either.

Compliance claims to be "inspired by true events." That's a pretty disturbing notion when you stop to unpack that little bit of information. Whatever really happened in real-life to "inspire" this film was certainly sad, and the psychology of the people involved could be fascinating, but why use it as the basis of a dramatic film? That would take some real skill to pull off and Zobel's script doesn't have it. The real-life circumstances that exist underneath the film's story- the abuse of power, people's blind willingness to submit to authority, the mind-set of victims, the perils of inadequate management in corporations, and sexual abuse in the workplace could all make riveting subjects. But Compliance, despite whatever you read, isn't really about any of those things because the script lacks that one crucial moment when someone tries to the right thing and fails, thus making the conclusion inevitable, however disturbing. Had this been attempted by at least one character (in the first hour at least), I may have stuck around. But it's not there. Not one of the major characters ring true.

There is nothing to watch but one girl's humiliation- one step at a time and while I could watch a documentary about sexual victimization, I have no interest in seeing it dramatized for its own sake. From what I could tell that's all Compliance really offers the audience. For me, it wasn't worth sticking around another 30 minutes to see if I was wrong- I already felt slimed enough and I'm not sure that even if the moment came that far into the film it would have made any difference at that point. In fact I know it wouldn't have.

In the holiday Meat Grinder

Saturday night in the City. Holiday season is in full effect. Penelope is at the beach. The Femme is stuck in her castle. The Swede is on holiday in Syria, the Greek's gone MIA, the Minister's Rebellious Daughter is nowhere to be found and the only two people who would go see a nasty Thai flick about cannibalism ala Sweeney Todd are my next door neighbor who can't get out of a holiday party (perhaps she was just being kind) and la Divinavila, who is in L.A.. Fuck it, I'm still going, but the trek to the theater forces me to walk through the hordes downtown, tens of thousands of oblivious out-of-towners and tourists who move in slow, meandering packs weighed down by bags from Old Navy, a general sense of stupor and their obvious, oblivious awe and uncomfortableness at finding themselves in an actual City for a change. There are couples and groups and I'm consciously aware that I'm on my own, headed to see a movie called Meat Grinder. Ho ho ho.

I arrive at the venue. There's a big party going on downstairs. An usher asks me "Are you here for the Nutcracker?" I reply in the negative. I'm here to see the movie. It's supposed to start in 10 minutes.

She looks puzzled. She tells me the movie is upstairs but they haven't told her to let anyone up yet. She directs to someone who should have an answer. Turns out I'm the first one there. I get my ticket and a guy comes out and lets me into the upstairs theater. It's small, and completely empty. It stays empty, except for me, for at least another five minutes. I open up my package of Red Vines, bought at a Walgreen's on Market St.. I think I should be in a grindhouse. Why did the Strand Theater have to close? I'm a middle-aged white guy sitting alone in a theater with Red Vines and a flask on a Saturday night while there are thousands of people within a mile's radius who are shopping for loved ones, dressed up and on their way to holiday parties, celebrating "the season." It's okay- I'm in my natural element. Meat Grinder is part of series of films called Go to Hell for the Holidays and that's something I can appreciate. It's an idea I can get behind after a week where Obama completely punks out and then lets Bill Clinton stand in for him. Talk about disappointing.

Finally someone else walks into the theater, and wouldn't you know it- it's someone I know. Not well, but our jobs used to intersect and I seem to always see him at Patti Smith concerts. We have a mutual friend, Chad, who tipped me off to these screenings and I know it was this guy who told him about it. We chat for a bit about A Serbian Film, which I know via Chad he has a screener copy of which he sent via intercompany mail to a co-worker/friend and it got lost. Can you fucking imagine that? If you don't know what I mean, it's akin to accidentally forwarding a link to a kiddie porn or bestiality website to your friendly, born-again co-worker at a huge corporation via email. Some people have questionable judgement- I'm often one of them. A couple of other people filter in- a lone female who sits on the aisle (and bails about 15 minutes into the movie) and a fat bald guy and his bleach blonde female companion who look like their next stop after the movie is going to be the Power Exchange. The bald guy looks like one of Vukmir's goons in A Serbian Film. I feel like a scuzball just for being in the same place as these two.. A single white guy in his twenties shows up, looking self-conscious, and takes a seat. An Asian guy takes a seat in the row behind me and proceeds to constantly pull stuff from a paper bag loudly. Asshole. Then he proceeds to cough like he has TB. There are now eight of us. The lights go down. My mother had invited me to a family dinner and a boat parade with Christmas lights in Sausalito. I chose this instead. Like I said, my judgement is often questionable. The Asian guy keeps hacking and ruffling through his bag of tricks. I want to smack him, but I don't want TB, so I sit there passively hoping he'll shut the fuck up.

Meat Grinder turns out to be a near miss. The acting is good, the cinematography better, but the narrative of the movie is completely screwed. For horror to be effective, the audience has to undergo a sensation of mounting tension. This movie, which starts with dated footage suggesting the past ala Martyrs, goes back and forth to the point of incoherence. The audience is never really sure where we are in the story, as the idea of crafting a linear plot is anathema to director/writer/editor/cinematographer Tiwa Moeithaisong. It's too bad, because he knows how to create great individual scenes and images, but the whole is a jumbled mess that fails all litmus tests for what makes a great horror film. Or even a good one. At least that's how I saw it from my Western perspective. Perhaps there is something different in Thai culture that makes all of this not only palpable, but acceptable. It's entirely possible. Who am I to judge? I thought The Grudge and it's Japanese original, Ju-on to be barely watchable crap.

The film ends on a note of incoherence, or at least ridiculousness, and my acquaintance remains seated to watch the credits. I bail, wait a few minutes outside to hear his opinion, but decide enough is enough. I make my past the bums bedding down for the night in the doorway of the now vacant Virigin Megastore as shoppers and the bridge and tunnel crowd walk by them and pretend they don't exist. Past the Ferrari store which never has a soul in it but has manged to be there since last year, thinking I'll give my own souls a lift and look at the kittens and puppies in the windows of Macy's but there are just too many damn people there. It's a mob. I walk past the restaurants which are all packed, the couples dressed up for a once-a-year night on the town, the groups of Guidos who somehow manage to take up the entire 10 foot-wide sidewalks and I make my way back home, wondering what the fuck I'm going to eat for dinner. The Paki place across the street from my apartment is packed and I peek in the window see many tables without any food on them. Not an option.


I enter my building, where there is party going on in the lobby, which the HOA rents out for people who want to have a party in an art deco palace. It's not a party I can crash, otherwise I might out of sheer ennui and the desire to get this Bickle-esque taste out of my mouth. In the lobby is a relatively new resident I know and she has a certain hunger in her eyes as she's talking to the doorman/guard. I know that hunger like I know the back of the my hand. She looks at me, and I wonder to myself how many other men who live in this building have felt that weight, the palpable desire, of that particular, distinct gaze. It's too close to home. The elevator opens, I punch the button for my floor. it opens and I stride down the quiet hall to my apartment- the last one on the left. Entering, I'm met with complete indifference by the other occupant- a cat. Now we are current, and the tourists and shoppers should be gone, it's almost 11pm, and now it's time to get something to eat. Ho ho ho.

Update on Sunday morning: The Femme called me this and complained about the darkness of this post. It's really meant to be tongue in cheek- I mean who else but a Travis Bickle type would really go see this kind of stuff during the holiday season? Have a nice day and don't forget to smile.

The Top Ten and a sad state of affairs

Tim Mangan, a classical music critic for the Orange County Register, has been assigned to cover a new beat- celebrities. That's a damn shame because there's already so much of that kind of content in papers, magazines and online, while art music coverage is moving more and more to blogs. Newspaper critics who write about the arts provide value to a community. I obviously don't think they should be the only voices heard when discussing or reviewing a performance, but I do think it's important for a community to have a "voice" in print providing consistent coverage of the arts scene and local companies. Bloggers often can't rely on the pr departments of organizations for free tickets, so we often end up writing about things we really want to see or hear and besides, almost all of us have day jobs which can interrupt the length and  frequency of what we write about, not to mention the quality.

His re-assignment to fluff material is dismaying, but it seems we Americans have a never-ending appetite for junk news that doesn't really change or impact our own lives in anyway. We also like movies and pop art much more than we do things that may require a little bit more effort or knowledge to appreciate. This is true of this blog as well- posts on non-classical or opera performances or topics often have a much greater hit count than those subjects which compelled me to start blogging in the first place.

Below are the top ten posts which have drawn the most traffic to this site. Most of them are not about performances, which makes sense because performances capture a particular moment and aren't something you can get on Netflix, at a store, or the next tour. Interest in them has a brief and fleeting shelf life except for obsessives like me who love to read old reviews of works or performers I may not have yet experienced in person.

A Serbian Film is a Horrific Masterpiece (far and away the most read post, especially since it's only been on about 6 weeks)

1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die, Corrected

KISS, Rock and Roll Madeleines All Night

Carie Delmar Punks the Huffington Post

James Brown Lives, but Record Stores are the Living Dead

Review of the Lepage "Damnation of Faust" at the Met

The T.A.M.I Show!

What Happened to the Ghost Writer's Mole?

Gaspar Noe's "Enter the Void"

tied:

Merola Grand Finale 2009

Nostalgia Trip

As you can see, for an opera and classical music oriented blog (usually), those subjects are covered in only three of the eleven posts listed above. Still, you won't be reading about Tiger, LiLo or a Kardashian here any time soon. I am however, really looking forward to upcoming concerts by Shakira and Lady Gaga when they make their way to the Bay Area. You'll be able to read all about it right here.

schadenfreude

Yesterday I received an email from Ticketmaster offering up to 8 free tickets to see the upcoming Foreigner/Styx/Kansas concert out in Concord. Seriously.

Even if it were closer, say right next door, they would still have to throw in a free dinner, drinks, Marisa Tomei and a $100 gift card to make it worth sitting through what would be the concert going equivalent of a 4 hour long wait at the DMV.

Those bands sucked then. They suck now. And now they're sucking it, suckers.

What's the point of booing Gotterdammerung?

Photo by Monika Rittershaus

Every review I've read of LA Opera's Gotterdammerung, which opened this past weekend, has mentioned the robust booing directed at Achim Freyer, the production's mastermind (and careful of that last link- the LA Times' Mark Swed gives way too much away about the opera's concluding stagecraft). What is wrong with these people? Seriously. I'm not saying everyone should love the production, though I have so far, but this is part four!

Did you not see the first three in the cycle? If you saw them, or at least one of them, are you such a dimwitted masochist you would pay good money and spend over five hours to watch something you know you are going to loathe? Really? What's wrong with you?

If you haven't seen any of the previous operas, first of all why are you starting at the end and not the beginning? And what did you expect- Otto Schenk or Seattle? Had you not read a single review nor caught a glimpse of a publicity shot? The people booing this production are morons. Not because they don't like it, but because they went in the first place.

Now I don't like everything I see just because I want to, and sometimes I end up loving loving stuff I thought I'd hate- read this blog for ample evidence of this- but if I know the first ten or so hours of a fifteen-hour work aren't something I liked or was interested in, then why commit to the final five hours? It makes no sense to me at all. So shut up, would you please?

PS- if you've never been to the opera before, Gotterdammerung is not the place to start. Seriously.

James Brown lives, but records stores are the living dead (and not for long)

 Today is a day I've been waiting for for a very long time. The legendary T.A.M.I. (Teenage Awards Music International) Show was finally released on DVD. It has never been released in any format but a crappy bootleg prior to today and I had only seen it once before, about 25 years ago, on a television broadcast quite by accident. I can still remember the fun of watching it for the first time as prime footage of Marvin Gaye, the Supremes and the Beach Boys went by and I thought to myself "where and when was this concert?"

And then the moment happened. Jan and Dean, the hosts of the show, introduce James Brown. The next twenty moments left me ecstatic and floored at the same time. James Brown's performance at the T.A.M.I. show was probably the most amazing concert footage I'd ever seen and the only other thing I've seen since that comes remotely close is the footage of him from the Olympia Theater in France that shows up occasionally on Youtube. But there was never any footage to be found from the T.A.M.I. show. Never. Nowhere. I recently read that even Michael Jackson was desperate to get a copy and couldn't get one. But today I have a copy at home, and even though the concert contains the Stones (with Brian Jones, no less), the Beach Boys, Chuck Berry, the Supremes, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, Jan and Dean and Leslie Gore, including a final number of "Let's Get Together" featuring all of them onstage at the same time, it's really all about James Brown. If you are at all interested in rock, pop, soul or funk this film is simply a must-see and if you don't want to plunk down the cash just on my word, put it at the top of your Netflix queue.

There have recently been numerous articles (here, here, here, and here to link just a few) about the impending release of the film, including an article in the Sunday New York Times and USA Today. For pop music addicts or aficionados, this is a big deal. I looked on Amazon and thought about pre-ordering it at $11.99, and moved it to the top of my Netflix queue, where it's been in the "saved" list for years now. But I didn't return the latest disc of "Breaking Bad" from this past weekend yet, so it would be days until it showed up. I really just couldn't wait. Not for twelve bucks. In fact, I couldn't even wait for Amazon to ship it to me, so after work I went to my local independent record store, Rasputin's, and asked if they had it in stock.The young clerk had obviously never heard of it before. Couldn't spell it, had no idea what section it was in, but after I told him how to spell it he said there are 5 copies on the fourth floor, for $22.99 each. The list price is $19.99. This is supposed to be the "cool" record store, though they can't hold a candle to Amoeba Records (which isn't in my neighborhood). I turned around and walked out. There's a Borders three blocks away and so I went up the street and up to the music/dvd floor and asked the young clerk if they had the T.A.M.I Show dvd. Another incomprehensible look from a young music store employee whose face looked like I had just asked her in which aisle can one find the mayonnaise. I told her the video featured the Rolling Stones and James Brown. She located one copy among the Stones videos. $19.99. I asked her if there was any discount available, as I have a "rewards" account at the store. No, but I could speak with a "Service Manager" about that, and she paged one for me.
A woman closer to my age appeared and I told her I'd like to buy the disc, but really, for a full 35% more I thought that was asking a lot of the average consumer. She said they don't match prices. I replied I'm not asking you to match it, but can you do better than the list price, since every week I get a coupon in my email saying 40% off for this or that? She said she could take 25% off, but Amazon had much lower overhead and they didn't have to pay employees like her. Then she looked at the cover of the dvd and asked me what it was. I replied it's a concert from 1964. She said, "Really? And all of these people are in it?"
"Yep," I say, "and it's really good. Watch it sometime." I had her ring up the discount, which put it at $14.99, and wondered exactly what was the added value for which I paid for that extra three dollars. Except for the fact that it was right there, right then. Lucky me, the loyal, local consumer.
Leaving the store, thinking about how the local Tower had closed (which saddened me) and pondering the huge gaping vacancy that was the Virgin Megastore at Stockton and Market (good riddance and goodbye), across the street from the always-packed Apple store, I realized record stores are toast. Done. Over. When I was young there was no place I would rather go to than the local used record store, and on weekends I used to make the rounds to a few in an afternoon, killing hours (and spending money). Nowadays I don't buy that much music anymore, and I think I'm actually pretty easy to please, the fact that I'm a total music snob being besides the fact- just point me to what I want and don't gouge me- it ain't askin' for much, right? And maybe train the employees a bit, you know, for example at least make them familiar with an item that has recently been written up in at least two major newspapers? But I guess I expect too much. I do expect however, that within three years neither of these stores will be in business. Sad.

But get the video!  Having watched the James Brown segment 5 or 6 times tonight, I can honestly say it's even better than I remember it. And the Stones weren't too bad either. I'll probably have more to say about it shortly.

1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die, corrected.

After reading an article in the Times today noting it's been 40 years since Hendrix died and there's an onslaught of "new" and re-releases due to hit the market this year (including a Hendrix version of the "Rock Band" video game), I wanted to check out his discography. Hendrix only released three studio albums of material while he was alive- a fact that seems hard to believe, though in a recording career that lasted four years there was obviously much more recorded and posthumously released. To my mind, Hendrix is the only rock musician I would put on the same level of musical genius as Beethoven, Mozart, Ellington and Wagner. Sure, there are others who are truly great- too many to bother listing, but what Hendrix did has yet to be surpassed and his influence is equal to the musicians mentioned above. In looking at the track listings for each of the studio records I noticed all of the albums are included on a list called "1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die." Something so grandiosely titled is just too tempting to pass up, so I clicked on over to the list. As a self-admitted music snob, I expected to be amused, validated, and perhaps find some fun things to quibble about to myself (as there isn't an online version where one can comment).

Now I'll be the first to admit within every genre of music I have friends possessing a deeper and richer knowledge of music than I. However, as a general music enthusiast I'll willingly go toe-to-toe with anyone who's never been employed by the music industry. This isn't bragging, really, but just confidence that I know what I'm talking about when it comes to certain things and music is one of them.

Lacking that depth, and the fact that with each passing decade my exposure to current popular music grows more and more limited as the music grows more and more varied, and precludes me from ever trying to compile such a list myself, it doesn't stop me from scoffing at one that is as ridiculous as this one.

To be fair, I'll give editor Robert Dimery his due for including some surprises deserving inclusion that could have easily been left off of a less ambitious list: the first Black Sabbath album, Maggot Brain by Funkadelic, records by Fela Kuti and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, early Kraftwerk, Sparks' Kimono My House and Malcom McLaren's Duck Rock to name a few that had me nodding in agreement. But in general, as I read the list in its chronological order, I kept saying to myself, "What? Really? I have to hear this before I die? I almost wish I never heard it the first time!"

Remember the title of the list. I didn't make it- the editor did- or whomever. That's pretty weighty stuff, wouldn't you agree? And to listen to 1001 albums is going to take some time, so they'd better be pretty damn good. Or at least of great cultural or musical significance. I think that's a reasonable criteria.

I don't want to split hairs with the large number of albums on the list by the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Beach Boys, The Who, David Bowie or Bob Dylan. These artists evolved significantly over their careers and the albums listed were not only great, but often highly influential. But really- seven albums from Neil Young? At least four by Steely Dan? Four from the Kinks? Three by the Byrds? As much as I love Neil Young, his entire career can be summed up with Live Rust (which isn't even on the list). While I may want to listen to more of his work and he's a personal favorite, I wouldn't insist that anyone should consider Ragged Glory something their lives would be lesser for not having heard. I mean, that's what the title of the list implies, right?

Below are the inclusions, with some random comments, that made me think "WTF, this is the dumbest list ever," without focusing too much on the albums released during the 90's and 00's because I realize I fall outside the demographics defining those who are truly impacted by, and invested in, those artists and their albums. In many cases I'll list an album I believe should have been included on the list, or is at least much worthier of a listen before one dies than the one included and thus meriting my scornful derision. And know that it's really all for fun. Call this the list "The Top 30 goofs and gaffes that make the compilers of 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die look ridiculous for their efforts":

1. One album each by Billie, Ella and Sarah Vaughn on a list that has two Rod Stewart albums but nothing by Patsy Cline, Etta James nor Rickie Lee Jones? Huh?
2. THREE albums by Yes, which really is three too many.
3. Two albums by Emerson, Lake and Palmer and neither one is Brain Salad Surgery, which doesn't deserve to be on such a list anyway. Pictures at an Exhibition? What on Earth for?
4. Britney Spears is on the list. No Doubt isn't.
5. Christina Aguilera is on the list. Shakira is not.
6. There is one Kiss album and it's Destroyer.
7. Frampton Comes Alive is on the list. Quadrophenia is not.
8. Bad Co.? A serious WTF!
9. FOUR albums by the Talking Heads, none after Remain in Light, when they did their most interesting work. Besides, David Byrne is an asshole.
10. Dexy's Midnight Runners- not once, but twice? How does one catchy pop tune merit inclusion here when you've probably never heard Masters of Reality's Sunrise on the Sufferbus?
11. Only one album by X and it's Wild Gift? Wrong. Fail. Where is Los Angeles or Under the Big Black Sun? Both are superior, as is More Fun in the New World.
12. ABC's The Lexicon of Love and numerous albums by The Pet Shop Boys appear. Even Scritti Politti makes the list, but not Shriekback?
13. The Go-Go's make it. There is no Joan Jett. But take heart, there are two albums by Hole.
14. Aerosmith's Pump? Huh?
15. How many Morrisey albums does one need to hear for a full musical experience during their lifetime?
16. Both of Johnny Cash's prison recordings are on the list, but only the fourth American Recording? The first two were far superior, with CASH perhaps the best he ever made. Failure again.
17. Not one Albert King record on the list. I guess his spot was taken by Supertramp's Crime of the Century.
18. How can almost every REM, U2 and Elvis Costello album be on the list and there isn't a single Dead Can Dance album- I'm a particularly thinking of Toward the Within.
19. Not one, but two each from Rush, Def Leppard and Deep Purple? Seriously? Why?
20. No Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction, but there are albums by Neu!, Fred Neil, Pentangle, David Ackles, Faust, none of which I've ever heard of before and if the list were better I may be inspired to check them out but I can't help but be unconvinced any of their albums are better than Tattooed Beat Messiah, which really is an album everyone should hear at least once in their life.
21. Why are there so many Elvis Costello records on this list? Costello has three or four good songs but I still think he's a racist ass, drunk or not. Besides, Joe Jackson doesn't have one album on the list and he's far more talented. Where the hell is Look Sharp!?
22. How can bands like Can and Love be on this list yet there is not a single album from Be Bop Deluxe- especially Modern Music?
23. There's crapload of metal/hard rock on this list that is dubious at best (see # 19) but nothing from Blue Oyster Cult. Huh?
24. Sandinista! and Combat Rock are not on the list. I guess Frankie Goes to Hollywood and Haircut 100 got those spots.
25. No Chuck Berry. Not one. Seriously? Did you guys grow up in Siberia?
26. ELO's Out of this World and not A New World Record? You sniff glue, right?
27. The first album by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers is great, but if you're only going to hear one Petty album during your lifetime it should be You're Gonna Get It, Damn the Torpedoes, or Full Moon Fever. Even better would be to take off all of those REM and Elvis Costello albums and replace them all with Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers.
28. How is it that Queen Latifah is on the list and not Erik B. & Rakim?
29. Where are Foreigner, Kansas, Styx, Toto and Asia? Just seeing if you're paying attention : )
30. Seriously, The Monkees made the cut but Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons didn't? And Nenah Cherry?
31. Bonus question, since #29 is a joke: No Luther Vandross? Seriously, my life would not have been the same without The Night I Fell in Love or Busy Body.

Okay, the comments section is wide open for your entertainment, rebuttals, inclusions and random witty barbs. Have at it!

Carie Delmar Punks the Huffington Post!

Oh dear, Carie Delmar, Los Angeles' raving anti-Wagner loon, at it again, this time under the pseudo-pseudonym "Carol Jean Delmar."

Somehow she's managed to convince the Huffington Post to publish her, giving her previously marginalized perspective a much greater audience than she deserves. Jumping on the anti-Domingo bandwagon as an excuse to take some cheap and inaccurate shots at LA Opera's Ring Cycle, Delmar's post is disingenuous on several fronts. I'll give her credit for one thing though- she's tenacious, crafty- and she just blew the credibility of one of the web's most heavily trafficked sites.

HuffPost readers who aren't that familiar with how opera companies work will read Delmar's statements and take them at face value. This is the largest issue I have with Huffington giving Delmar a forum to spew her slanted junk. For example, Delmar writes "Judging from the lineup, measures to cut the company's expenses seem to be in place. Many of the roles will be sung by lesser-known young singers." Like whom, Carie? Nino Machaidze???

Of course young, lesser-known singers fill the smaller roles to gain experience. That's the way all opera companies work and it's vital to the careers of the singers and the growth of the companies. But in a season that includes Sir Thomas Allen, William Burden, Charles Castronovo, Vladimir Chernov, Sarah Coburn, Plácido Domingo,George Gagnidze, Cristina Gallardo-Domâs, Paolo Gavanelli, Ben Heppner, Soile Isokoski, Nino Machaidze, Ann Murray, Daniel Okulitch, Marlis Petersen, Patricia Racette, Martina Serafin, Kristinn Sigmundsson, Bo Skovhus and Dolora Zajick, it's really inaccurate B.S. to imply LA Opera is fielding its season with B-List youngsters.

Delmar being Delmar, she can't help herself from trying to save the world from the evil-influence of Wagner's Ring. She implies LA County Supervisor Mike Antonovich's ridiculous motion to "diversify" the Ring Festival (by including Mendelssohn!!!) was defeated because "other powerful members of the community had a vested interest in maintaining the status of the company and their status in it." When the Board voted on it, the motion received only vote of support- Antonovich's. That's a nice try at revisionist history Carie, but you've failed again.

You can read the rest of her slanted crap at the Huffington Post and you can continue to see her exposed here whenever possible.

Bozo is alive and well and working for San Diego Opera

Though I try to not be snarky when I write these posts, keeping in mind that it's likely I will eventually come face to face with someone whom I've written something terrible about, every once in awhile I just need to take the gloves off. Like everyone other American, I get a lot of junk mail and solicitations, especially from performing arts companies that obviously share/sell their lists of buyers/subscribers among one another. In principle this makes complete sense and I have no problem getting mailings from an arts company or organization that I've never attended. However, when they send me something so ridiculously insulting after they've obviously gotten my name and address from another organization that's actually received money from me I can't help but feel the hair on my neck rise. This is especially true when I receive mailings that are just plain stupid and poorly executed for art forms or organizations I care about or would like to see succeed out of principle if for no other reason.

Which is why I found it especially galling to receive a brochure from San Diego Opera in the mail yesterday that was so insulting to the intelligence I feel compelled to call them out on it in this very public way. Now understand, I have never attended a performance there, though in the past couple of years I have considered it because I hear and read good things about them. I haven't been in San Diego since about 1979, and if it weren't to see an opera, I can't really think of any reason at all to return. My feelings about San Diego probably resemble Dorothy Parker's about Oakland, though I'm sure the weather is better and the women are more attractive. Still, there's no lure except to possibly go down and see an opera and spend a nice evening in the Gaslight District. After all, it's the only sizable coastal California city that regularly elects Republicans, so what else could I possibly find of interest down there except some really tasty Mexican food?

But look at the back of this ridiculous brochure I received from them:

Where to start?

First of all since, I live in San Francisco, they must have gotten my name and address from another company. In the past I've regularly bought tickets from San Francisco Opera, LA Opera, and the Met, so it's likely one of those companies provided them with my information. Given that, and my San Francisco address, it would seem likely that I'm a person who would willingly travel out of town to attend an opera. Which means I like opera, right? So why would I travel a great distance to sit in a shitty $35 seat? More importantly, why do they think I need to be told that the source for Rent or Pretty Woman is an opera? I already know that.

Next, "Think you don't know anything about it?" Hello, I obviously do, which is why you have my name and address in the first place.

My "wallet will thank me"? Really? What planet are you from?

"It's cool" because Willem Dafoe and Mary Kate Olsen like opera? This is the most egregious insult of all. No, it's cool because when done right it's the most sublime form of all the performing arts, incorporating music, theater, dance, literature and stagecraft into a seamless experience that is unlike any other. That's why it's cool. I couldn't give a fuck about what Jeremy Irons thinks about it, though I would love to sit next to Parker Posey or Claudia Schiffer during a performance of Tristan and Isolde. If you can guarantee that, consider the seat sold. Having confessed that, I don't think they'd be in the $35 seats the brochure is promoting.

"Be Social"? Huh? I don't even understand what this means in relation to making a decision to go to the opera. Do they mean "go see Boheme instead of playing Beer Pong with your buddies?"

Finally, "It helps my heart"? I'm sorry, but what marketing program did you attend? Who did you sleep with to get this job? This is simply the lamest pitch I have ever seen from a professional organization in my life. Seriously? You expect this to get me to buy tickets? From out of town?

Never mind the fact that the schedule only would allow me to see one opera during a trip. Never mind that the programming is so safe that the choices are all things that I've likely seen before (perhaps multiple times). What you have going for your season is some unusually good casting for a smaller market in a city that everyone I know agrees is a pleasant place to spend a weekend.

Aria serious? Wake up, please. Opera needs real professionalism to bring in new audiences and attract the out-of-town visitor. Your brochure is so lame that regardless of your strong casts, it simply puts me off because it doesn't speak to anything that made me interested in the art form in the first place. Spread that around college campuses if you must- but don't put that crap in the mail.