Laura Cantrell








CQ
To be fair, the first half of 2002 is hard to remember. Something about being cold, then warming up to stifling heat. Proper memories return somewhere around August or September. Unfortunately, most of those memories are shared with Mario as he/I battled a fake impostor Mario (in a strange twist that Philip Roth would appreciate) on the Isle Delfino. But a few things did push through the clamor of the brain to be truly memorable

• Saint Etienne’s latest album Finisterre is a gorgeous return to form by a band whose strength is making chart-topping music for a parallel reality where 60s soul and melody reign supreme. Bob, Pete, and Sarah use elements of their own influences, but create something new. So the single "Action" uses the melody of a Beach Boys song. It's not emulation--its re-creation.

• Country-singer Laura Cantrell’s second album When The Roses Bloom Again hit the same sad and sweet note that her first album did. She makes it seem so easy: host radio show for old forgotten country music, record album of covers and originals on par with covers. Something about the music journalist term “alt-country” seems like a put down. Let’s just call it plain, regular “country” and try to ignore the sequin and ill-advised fireworks that have invaded the genre in the popular mind. That’s a battle worth fighting.

• A few years ago a roommate was remarked on my resemblance to Leonard Cohen. It wasn’t my face so much, or even my voice—the resemblance was based on a winter coat. The type of coat Leonard Cohen would wear, he said. Others agreed to this assessment when questioned. But my relationship with Mr Cohen was left at that—a shadow resemblance based on clothing. Now that that coat lives in the back of the closet, Mr Cohen’s records are in frequent rotation here. He never sings about a coat though; his poetry concerns loftier ideas.

• The movie within the movie CQ would have been a fine feature itself: a Barbarella-inspired international spy gal clad in leather jumpsuits and taking down Paris 1969 rebels on the moon. But that film wasn't even the point. A young director tries to find his way between truth and fiction, back when truth didn't seem such an illusion. He finds what he is looking for, or a something else on the way.

• Lynne Ramsay's second film, Morvern Callar, is adapted from Alan Warner's novel of the same name. Morvern wakes up one morning to find her boyfriend's body on the floor with a completed novel and love note on the computer. So she travels to Spain with her favorite mixtape… (Other details withheld to encourage more viewers to see the movie). Ramsay lets the camera just linger... on a hand stretching towards the sea… a hand against a chest. One quibble: Morvern only lights a Silk Cut with the goldish lighter twice. And one of those times the lighter doesn't even work.

• The museum as a ghost—the building as a character. Russian Ark is a delirious tour of the Hermitage in St Petersburg. One single tracking shot follows a mysterious tour guide through scenes of the lives of Catherine the Great, Pushkin, the last czar and family, and the building's current life as a museum. The film is a Proustian meditation on Russia, history, life and time. You are the camera drifting along…

What did I forgot?


Matthew H, January 2003
stolen kisses