Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Live Review / Photo Essay: D.O.A. and Dayglo Abortions, Amigo’s Cantina, Saskatoon: September 17, 2016

Live Review / Photo Essay:
D.O.A. and Dayglo Abortions
Amigo’s Cantina, Saskatoon
September 17, 2016

Text and all images © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2016
Poster from the Internet
Photos can be enlarged by clicking on them

There are four or five spaces in Saskatoon which are especially superb for seeing live bands, some of which cater to particular genres. For punk bands like the legendary D.O.A. and the Dayglo Abortions, it’s hard to beat Amigo’s Cantina (for those who plan tours, pay attention).

Saskatoon is a school town, with a university and a college, so the audience for these shows are relatively quite impressive. When it comes to bands like these that have been around since the ‘70s – not to mention homegrown Canadian icons – yeah, people are going to show up; even those around legal age (meaning drinking, at 19), fans will sing along. Sure, as at all punk shows, there are going to be who are there to raise heck in the pit (please go away), but there is a strong fanbase, and they turned up at Amigo’s on Saturday night, September 17, 2016.

The show was scheduled to start at 10:30, so in my non-drinking way, I showed up around 9:40, since there really was no reason to get there earlier. I ran into someone I know and hung out with him and his brother-in-law (both are musicians, and one had even opened for D.O.A. a couple of decades ago) until near the start of the performance.

At about 10:10, I started inching and gliding my way towards the front. The place was crowded, but not so packed that it was very difficult to maneuver around people. I went to the side of the stage, which I have found to be a relatively safe place not to get trounced by the moshers, and prepared my camera for the fun of the night ahead.

To my left was the Dayglo Abortions’ guitarist warming up sans amplification, so I could see the fingers move, but could not hear the twang of an unplugged electric over the jukebox. The majority of the crowd was to my right, mingling ever closer to the stage as it got closer to show time, getting more compact. Of course, room would needed to be found for the pit. But what I found interesting is just how many of the audience was already wasted. One woman in her twenties (most of the audience was in that range) walked up to the stage with a full pitcher of beer; no glass, she drank directly from the plastic carafe. I was amused when she was bothered that she was having trouble drinking it later as the moshers rebounded off of her, but I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Just before the Dayglos came on, I saw a motion out of the corner of my eye, and was suddently hip checked by this tiny young punkette who placed her drinks (yes, multiple) directly in front of me, like a dog peeing to announce its territory. I looked at her and she was quite frenetic, screaming toward the band. To give her credit, she knew the music and sang along with the songs, sometimes to an incredibly obnoxious and shrill (did I mention off-key?) level, putting her hands over her head and pushing me. Again, in her favor, a moshing wave motion caught me off balance, and she steadied me. She asked if I was with the local entertainment paper, and I repeatedly had to say no. She found it to be conservative (I mostly find it opposite), but I politely nodded in agreement to move the topic along. Then she apologized for being so adamant, and said in a lightbulb moment way, she recognized me from the early punk shows “back in the day.” I was a bit confused and bemused, as I’ve only been in Saskatoon for a few years now, and for me, the early punk shows I saw “back in the day” was probably when her mom was too young to get into the bar. What pissed me off, though, is she put her beer bottle in front of my camera lens, and purposely clinked it against the front of camera. I snapped, “Please don’t do that.” About halfway through the set, I looked over and she was gone.

I’d never seen the Dayglo Abortions before. Compared to the Toronto/Hamilton corridor, west of Ontario was not necessarily rife with hardcore bands in the ‘70s and early ‘80s as far as I know, but those that were there at the cusp were solid. The Dayglos’ songs focus on the contrary, with somewhat leftist leanings, and it has a history more of trying to provoke more than anything else. This audience was up for it, some carring artifacts, old (LPs) and new (CDs, or from the merch table). One of the women in front had a constant look like she wanted to flail on someone. She came to the stage early on with some Dayglo albums (not sure if original or reissues purchases at the back of the room), and fiercely guarded them as she was pushed from the pulsating mass behind her. She was also not happy about that; at one point I could read her lips saying to someone something like, “they should be here for the music!” I’m not sayin’ she’s wrong…

There are some interesting guitar smashes in their songs, though a lot of it was classic rat-tat-tat style, old school hardcore. This is meant as kind of a refreshing change. With so many bands modeling themselves after post-punk grunge or power punk (such as Green Day and Blink 182), I was pleasured by the stylings of the Abortions. The only issue I had with the band was that they used some kind of smoke machine that added a just more-than-subtle mist to the air that made it much harder to snap some decent pix. Or perhaps it was the club that did it, I’m not sure, but it was definitely thicker during this band.

For those who don’t know, the Dayglo Abortions is fronted by vox / guitarist Murray Acton, who also goes by the moniker “The Cretin.” Looking hard and angular, he took off his Russian CCCP red shirt shortly into the sweat-filled set, and with the short pants, kinda reminded me of Angus Young. He’s been playing forever, on tour for most of that, and even though he looks a bit ragged, he sounded and played with a strong conviction. He was joined by bassist Willy Jak, drummer Blind Marc, and another guitarist whose name I didn’t catch (anyone care to let me know, I’ll add it).

As I said, the set was well received, as they spanned their career, including “I Killed Mommy,” “Stupid Songs,” “Ronald McRaygun,” “Black Sabbath,” and “Drugged and Driving” (well suited for this crowd). But the one that received the most enthusiasm was “Proud to Be Canadian.”

[As a side note, Dayglo Abortions were mentioned in an engaging novel that is about to be republished called Punk Like Me, by the amazing JD Glass. Worth a read].

After the Dayglo’s set, and the front of the front of the stage emptied for people to get drink refills, I moved my butt over to the other side of the room. I knew from experience that D.O.A.’s singer, Joey, usually stands on the far right, so I moved over to that wall, so there would be less smoke between him and my lens. I stood on a chair against the wall, and waited.

The room changed for D.O.A., as some of the more diehard Abortion fans left (never understood that; you go to see some bands play, you stay and check them out and you leave if you don’t like them, not before they’ve come on… But I digress…). The intermission was thankfully short, with D.O.A. coming to set up as the Dayglo Abortions broke down. This gave me the opportunity to snap Joey and the Cretin talking, getting two BC punk legends in one shot (see below). This made me happy.

While D.O.A. certainly has as much energy as the Abortions, they definitely present a very different view of the music. While the last band’s songs were somewhat goofy and pure fun, sort of like the musical version of putting your thumb to your nose and sticking out your tongue, D.O.A. are much more political and I would add somewhat more melodic. Both are “chantable,” but D.O.A.’s messages make the profanity and what is being said “behind” the genre formula much stronger for that reason, in my opinion.

The lead of the band, guitarist / vocalist Joey Shithead Keithley, was wearing a shirt that had a drawing of Donald Trump holding a gun directly at the reader, with the words "Fucked Up Donald" (one of their songs) and the band name down the side (available at the back, or online at the D.O.A. store). With all the work Joey has done politically (he ran for local office a few times now) and musically, my favorite thing he’s posited is “Talk - Action = 0.” Simple, to the point, and powerful stuff.

Backing him up was Mike Hodsall on bass, and a fuzzy Paddy Duddy on drums. There was also someone equally (if not more) fuzzy dong some back-up vocals, but I didn’t catch the name.

I really do believe that D.O.A. are as important as, say Black Flag and the Dead Kennedys, when it comes to political thinking, and their music definitely has the chant lyrics and melodies to back it up (bands like the DKs were more into formula and rhythm than melodies, such as their classic “Rise Above”). Joey’s vocals can be fast like the Descendants, joyously out there like the Circle Jerks, but there is something about how his songs are constructed that are his own, with a determined liberal agenda (that is close, yet slightly left to my own, actually).

Likewise, they covered their canon, such as “Race Riot,” and more than one song about Police violence, very apropos for the current climate. Also, as always, there are a couple of covers, including his stunning standard of Edwin Starr’s “War (What is it Good For?),” and as is tradition, one that you might not expect, such as by one of the original punks, Johnny Cash. I’m blanking out of the top-40 one he did (I was having too much fun to take notes), which they totally made their own, and improving it by far. There were also some new ones, such as “Fucked Up Donald.”

Joey is pretty active on stage, kicking up his leg, prowling around and going right up to the audience at stage center… I mean centre. He also holds his guitar straight out, plucks the strings with his teeth, makes that verbal noise when you shake your head back and forth real fast, and it felt like he connected with some of the audience (the one’s not blasted out by alternative substances, that is). It also seemed like this set went by really fast, though it was probably as long as was the Abortions’.


After the show, I happily went home. I could have stayed around, but considering the number of people that were in another state of being, I thought I should get in my car before they did. It was a pleasant ride home after a killer show. The photos follow.























































Monday, September 5, 2016

Review: Ray Harryhausen – Special Effects Titan

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2016
Images from the Internet (to enlarge, click on image)

Ray Harryhausen: Special Effects Titan
Directed by Gilles Penso
Frenetic Films / Ray and Diana Harryhausen Foundation /
Arrow Video / MVD Visual
92 minutes, 2011 / Blu-ray 2016

I grew up with Ray Harryhausen (d. 2013 at age 92); well, not personally, but on his work. After Willis O’Brien (d. 1962), who created stop-motion pixilated films like the The Lost World in 1925 and the original 1933 King Kong, Ray Harryhausen (RH) would pick up O’Brien’s mantle and become the leading and deservedly most renowned stop-motion photographer in the world with his own spin, called Dynamation. In fact, he would take mixing this type of animation mixed with live action to levels that could only be bested by digital effects.

Ray Harryhausen and friends
There is nothing but an abashed “we’re not worthy” to the man and his family… and rightfully so. There is rightfully a reason why he has the Ray and Diana Harryhausen Foundation named after him to preserve his legacy and to teach others how to do the craft, his materials are preserved in a museum (sponsored by director Peter Jackson), he has won both an Oscar and an honorary BAFTA (he moved to England at some point), and even a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame (certainly more deserving than so many over the past few years, such as the Olson Twins, but I digress…)

This documentary is broken up into chapters by each of the dozen films he has made (I have come to realize I have seen all but two: The Animal Word from 1956, and Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, from 1977), and while this goes into detail about how they came about around his contribution, it also takes the entire time to talk about how his craft was honed, accomplished, and of course there are tons of testimonials to praise the Maestro, such as directors Steven Spielberg, Tim Burton, James Cameron, Guillermo del Toro, John Landis (and his crooked glasses), Peter Jackson (of course), Joe Dante, special effects wizards (especially those who have done stop animation, such as Henry Selick, who directed the likes of Coraline in 2009), and those who have appeared in his films, including the lovely Martine Beswick and Caroline Munro. There is also some footage of reminiscences by one of RH’s nearly lifelong friend, Ray Bradbury (d. 2012). Some of the clips are directly for this; others are culled from convention presentations or press conferences. But all of these were donated, including the film clips, donated for free by the companies and people in honor of RH. That is a lot of respect.

There are plenty of shots from all RH’s films, but what is also entrancing is the clips from those that followed which built upon his work, such as Peter Jackson’s King Kong (2005), Splice (2009), and Jurassic Park (1993). Also shown are many of the original models in their modern state, some in sore disrepair thanks them being built in latex rubber, which is infamous for breaking down over time.

One of the more interesting discussions that crops up once in a while through this release is the difference between stop motion and CGI. It is correctly pointed out that both are “tools,” but stop-motion usually takes one to three people (in the case of Harryhausen, with one exception, all his work was solo), but computer generation takes dozens, often with one person working on a single aspect of an image, such as an eye or tail). But what struck me the most as accurate is while people tend to marvel at pixilation, computer generation tends to be dismissively viewed as “Oh, it’s just CGI.”

The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms
While one of his first jobs after World War II (where he worked with the likes of Frank Capra) was doing most of the animation of Mighty Joe Young (1949; though Willis O’Brien received nearly all the film credit, RH was O’Brien’s “assistant”), RH’s first real solo feature credit begins with a film oft seen on TV in my youth, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953). The filmmakers in the documentary make the same connection I made, in that it led to the direction in the formation of Godzilla (1954) in Japan. RH’s opinion of that film was smile-inducing.

One of my favorite and completely accurate comments in this is that whomever directs the picture, it’s still described as a ”Ray Harryhausen” film. It’s similar to how many early ‘60s songs were considered “Phil Sector” records.

Included here are clips of some of RH’s hearly test works that he did for himself to learn his craft just after the Second World War, and his first professional releases, which were based on Grimm’s Fairy Tales that were still playing on television in my youth in the early ‘60s. They also show many of RH’s original storyboard sketches. He was quite the artist with a pencil and paper, as well as on the screen where he also built his own creatures, usually in his home in a room that was his workshop, fired in the kitchen oven.

Jason and the Argonauts
One of the discussions I enjoyed were when some of the SFX professionals and directors discussed their favorite scenes from RH films. For me? The skeleton fight scene in Jason and the Argonauts (1963). Actually, I love that whole film, which I saw in the theater in my youth, and many times after on TV. Most of his films I saw on television, and I’m grateful to have been able to do that; as far as I know, they don’t play older films like this anymore.

As with all of Arrow’s rereleases, there is a teeming amount of extras. First up is the mandatory commentary. While there are many good tidbits of info given, the problem is there are too many people on it, and I have no clue who is talking, and they often talk over each other. Honestly, this is a commentary pet peeve of mine. But yes, I watched the whole thing.

Earth vs. the Flying Saucers
Next up is the 14-minute “A Treasure Trove” that follows the director and producers opening up some of the boxes in storage for an exhibition that include original models such as the UFO from Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers (1956; a film I’ve always liked) and Pegasus from HR’s last film, Clash of the Titans (1981). It’s interesting but more for the close-ups of the models than the ooo-aaah commentary. Then there is “Interviews” at 16-minutes, with director Edgar Wright (e.g., Shaun of the Dead [2004]), Terry Gilliam, Peter Lord (one of the directors of stop-motion Wallace and Gromit), make-up maven Rick Baker (including American Werewolf in London [1981], Videodrome [1983]), and actor Simon Pegg (Shaun of the Dead), all discussing their fanhood, and how it affected and effected their own careers.

“Interview Outtakes” are 13 interviews over 55 minutes that are either extended pieces from the film, or outtakes by filmmakers who worked with him, were inspired by him, or were just fans of his canon. Also included is his daughter, Vanessa, who is the Trustee of the Foundation. “Message to Ray” is a two-minute collection of six people, including Ray Bradbury, Guillermo Del Toro, James Cameron, and Vanessa, to send a message of thanks and love, probably played to him at a celebratory ceremony, talking directly to the camera. My fave part was Cameron asking, “What ever happened to the first six voyages of Sinbad?”

“Deleted Scenes” is a collection of nine sections totaling 8 minutes that feature different excised clips for reasons of timing or redundancy. The original cut was 15 minutes longer than the final. Thankfully, they put text at the beginning of each clip to explain why that particular one was snipped. All seem right to be removed, but still glad they kept it, even in its rough-cut version. While some of the next one was used in the main feature, “On the Set of Sinbad” is a 2-minute sort-of-behind the scene of The 7th Voyage of Sinbad footage shot in silent 8mm. Damn, the late 50s camera looks better than my Super8 from the early ‘70s.

The original Kraken from Clash of the Titans
The 18-minute “Paris Cinemtheque Q&A” is from December 2012, in which the filmmakers answer questions from the audience about the film, and about Ray. Half of it is in English, half in French (with subtitles), and mostly interesting. The month before, the 9-minute “London Gate Cinema Q&A” was filmed after a showing, but in this case it included RH himself, Caroline Munro, and John Landis, among others. Landis asks a question I actually thought throughout the film, which is, “Where is Sam Raimi?” (a clip from 1993’s Army of Darkness is shown in the documentary, however). I also wonder, is this the last public appearance of RH?

The last two items are the “Original Trailer” for this film, and the “Ray Harryhausen Trailer Reel,” which includes the coming attractions of nine his films in 22 minutes, short clips of which are included in the documentary, but it’s good to see them in their totality.

This documentary – and the extras – excellently shows on so many levels why the history and legacy of Ray Harryhausen is important to keep fresh, because his influence keeps growing. In 2016, a new stop-motion animation picture has hit theaters to success, Kubo and the Two Strings. This Blu-ray explains the reasons for the adoration all quite nicely.