Taste

Reviews of releases new and old, including film, video, TV, music and more

Embassytown

China Miéville made his name with the Bas-Lag series of gritty, weird, off-putting, and also incidentally brilliant fantasy novels. He then followed that up with a YA book, then a restrained, contemplative murder mystery whose genre trappings were so faint as to have legitimate crossover appeal. Next came the urban fantasy piece, a wild-eyed and unrestrained flail of a novel about squid-gods in London.

And so now with Embassytown, Miéville has finally ventured into unadulterated science fiction. And his freshman entry into the world of spaceships and aliens is a grand and affecting one, surprising nobody.

The novel takes place entirely in the city from which its name comes. Embassytown is a city on the world of Arieke, a planet on the edge of human-explored space. It’s the sole human-occupied territory on a world otherwise controlled by the Hosts, the sentient, twin-mouthed species native to Arieke who speak in chords and with whom communication is only possible via specially-bred and -trained human Ambassadors.

And that’s about all that should be said regarding the novel’s content. A series of genuinely shocking surprises await the reader, each one dependent on the careful worldbuilding that’s preceded it, so it’s worth meeting the bulk of the text unspoiled. Unspoiled it shall remain.

The book is functionally a memoir; one woman’s account of events that are mostly out of her control, all the way up until they—triumphantly and movingly—aren’t. It is also a novel of linguistics and epistemology, of what it means to be able to say something is. It is leisurely and and thoughtful right up until it becomes rushed and jarring and violent. With Embassytown, China Miéville only further cements his position of one of the best and smartest authors working in genre—any genre—today.

Captain America

  • Paramount Pictures
  • In theaters July 22
With Marvel’s superhero train rolling full steam ahead, Captain America does an admirable job of both setting up next year’s Avengers mega-flick while also giving us the origins of Cap himself. It’s not often that we get a superhero story set in the 1940s, but Captain America pulls out all the stops and makes the most of the period to remind us how pure American resolve was once the bright, shining hope that could save the rest of the world. It also doesn’t hurt that Chris Evans—thanks to some nearly-flawless CGI body shrinking—inhabits the role of Steve Rogers with an earnest, dutiful grace and gives us an all-around good guy to root for. When Hugo Weaving’s Red Skull takes his mad science to new heights in order to secure world domination, it’s only Cap that can save the day, even if it means sacrificing everything (including a delightfully awkward yet tender romance with British operative Peggy Carter). Ever the underdog despite his newly-granted abilities, Captain America is a champion of the highest tradition, but one has to wonder how this will fuse with today’s society where being a symbol of ultra-patriotic American might may not be as celebrated as it once was.

Anya’s Ghost

When looking for places to start with indie comics, you could do a lot worse than checking in on alumni of the storied Flight anthologies; if you’re especially lucky or discerning, you might find yourself inclined to pick up Vera Brosgol’s debut graphic novel, Anya’s Ghost.You should probably go ahead and heed this inclination; Anya’s Ghost is excellent. A charmingly compact bildungsroman that’s equal parts teen flick and ghost story, Ghostfollows one Anya Borzakovskaya, a first-generation immigrant from Russia who’s just trying to fit in at the middling private school she’s being forced to attend. She falls down a well and makes the acquaintance of the spirit of a girl murdered nearly a century earlier, who takes it upon herself revitalize Anya’s social life (or unlife?).Anya is a charmingly real heroine, who sulks, slouches, and smokes her way through much of the story. Her refreshing sullenness rings true, but Brosgol adroitly keeps Anya on readers’ good sides, and by the book’s end, everybody’s learned and grown a little bit; surely the hallmark of successful YA. Finally, it must be said: Anya’s Ghost would make a great movie.

The Hour

  • BBC America
  • Premieres August 17
The new series The Hour has at least one thing that will please Mad Men fans in withdrawal, in its definitive establishment that there is no man like Don Draper. Instead, this 1950s British media drama wisely splits the ambitious up-and-comer and the suave womanizer and allows them, if previews of future episodes are to be believed, to butt heads over the future of TV news. It’s Draper vs. Draper! The pilot introduces Freddie (Ben Whishaw of the thousand faces) and Bel (the less-famous-than-deserved Romola Garai), working together on a dusty newsreel and sneaking out for interviews at a new program called The Hour, headed up by the debonair Hector Madden (Dominic West). It takes a third of an episode for West to make his unassuming appearance, but his quiet charisma and casual attitude toward his marriage set him up as an interest for Bel and foil for Freddie, whose flash of temper is tempered some after a debutante points him toward a very suspicious murder. There are a lot of questions and too much saxophone on the soundtrack, but those missing their weekly visits to Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce will want to invest themselves now.

Zombie Gunship

It’s dark out, and although a light shines in the distance, a fog of death looms all around you. You decide to make a run for it, and as you get closer to the light, you hear the sound of a plane overhead. When one of the undead appear between you and your sanctuary ahead, you charge forward hoping to slip by unscathed. Just as their cold, clammy hands reach out to grab you, they explode into a cloud of bones and blood—all as if touched by a hand from above.

That scenario—left entirely to your imagination, of course—only plays out at a distance in Zombie Gunship. Your goal: man the high-tech instruments of death aboard an AC-130 gunship to protect the survivors on the ground and keep the hordes of undead from entering the bunker. While monitoring the action though the cold eye of a black-and-white thermal scope, dropping heavy ordinance and watching the bodies fly is a morbid delight.

The Tree of Life

  • Fox Searchlight
  • In theaters now

The Tree of Life is one of the greatest movies ever made. There, I said it.

Now, the caveats. Terrence Malick’s long in the works epic about the yin and yang of nature and grace is so personal and specific that those not tuned in to its rhythms will find it interminable. But if it works for you, as it did for me, I’m hard-pressed to think of another movie that has ever used the medium of film more effectively.

It starts in the middle and then goes back to the beginning, and when I say back to the beginning I mean the dawn of time. We see mysterious lights, signaling the creation of the universe. We see volcanoes erupting, creating the continents. We see torrential rains, creating the oceans. And we see the origins of life, cells that turn into amoebas that turn into small creatures that turn into great dinosaurs. This where we came from as physical beings. Then we see where we came from as emotional beings. The birth of a child. The freedom of early life. The everyday magic of an afternoon spent in the front yard. Then we have to start obeying rules. We begin to feel pain. We see sadness and oppression. We lose people we love.

These are universal emotions, rendered with incredible intimacy by Malick and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki and a team of editors led by Hank Corwin. I can see how the film doesn’t work for some, but for me, I was with it for every second of its 139 minutes. There are countless ideas, images and themes I’ve rarely if ever seen a film tackle before, chief among them the significance and insignificance of a single life in the scheme of the universe. The Tree Of Life stares into the vastness of the cosmos, boldly aspires to greatness, and reaches it.

Super 8

  • Paramount Pictures
  • In theaters June 10

For months, the biggest mystery surrounding Super 8 was the plot itself. “A group of kids witness a train accident and all hell breaks loose” sounded vaguely intriguing, but that’s small potatoes for someone like J.J. Abrams. While it clearly sets out on the road that Spielberg built, the larger themes that Abrams thrives on are what set Super 8 apart. Right from the start, the notion that we can be changed forever by powers beyond our control is driven home as young Joe Lamb mourns the death of his mother, and when he and his friends witness catastrophe firsthand, they discover the power and ferocity of the world around them. Escaping the inescapable, moving past the walls life puts in front of us—whether it’s overcoming grief, making amends with neighbors, making a movie or even shaping your own cosmic freedom—is a process we all experience in life. That’s not to say it’s all a heavy affair, of course. Super 8 has a certain effortless charm and wit (especially when the kids reveal the finished film) that makes it a pleasure to sit back and enjoy, making it arguably the most satisfying adventure of the summer.

The Stunt Man

Richard Rush’s 1980 oddball masterpiece The Stunt Man is an anomaly in every way. It’s one of the only films Rush ever directed (the only film he’s made since is the bonkers Bruce Willis softcore extravaganza Color of Night). It’s one of the only films where Peter O’Toole plays someone who didn’t die several centuries ago. And it’s one of the only films that, at least to my knowledge, begins as a genre picture about a drifter on the run from the cops, and soon morphs into an insanely ambitious rumination on reality and unreality, with countless layers of Charlie Kaufman-esque weirdness. O’Toole gives one of the greatest performances of his career as a dictatorial director who may or may not be willing to kill Vietnam-vet-turned-stunt-man Steve Railsback to make a great film, delivering every line with the delectable loftiness of a man relishing his all-abiding God complex. It’s an incredibly dense film that rewards multiple viewings, appropriately becoming something completely different depending on what you’re paying attention to. Severin Films’ fantastic new Blu-ray edition polishes the low budgeted film to a gorgeous luster; it’s hard to believe this is the same Stunt Man I fell in love with on a battered VHS in the mid-90′s. Also included are extensive interviews with Rush and every major actor in the film, including an immaculately dressed O’Toole who, despite pushing 80, is spry as ever and funny as hell.

Whitesnake: Forevermore

  • Frontiers Records
  • Available now
  • Download from iTunes | Amazon

After reforming almost a decade ago (and a career-threatening incident in 2009 that seems to have left David Coverdale’s voice somewhat changed), Whitesnake returned to the fold this year with their latest, Forevermore, and for longtime fans, it’s easily their strongest, most-durable work since 1987′s Whitesnake. It’s also brazenly unapologetic, writhing in all of the stomping riffs and blazing solos that made the band a success so many years ago but with enough presence and growth to feel fresh. Highlights including the winding “All Out of Luck”, the imminently singable “Love Will Set You Free” and the rip-roaring “My Evil Ways”. Of course, it wouldn’t be a Whitesnake album without a few detours (the reflective “One of These Days”) and a Zeppelin-inspired track or two (listen for the influences in “Whipping Boy Blues” and “Forevermore”). Longtime fans will also appreciate this month’s Live at Donington 1990 featuring a hearty set of classics as performed by the band’s previous lineup.

The Lord of the Rings: The Motion Picture Trilogy (Extended Edition)

It’s been a long, hard wait for AV-savvy fans of the super-sized versions of Peter Jackson’s gargantuan adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s classic fantasy tale. When the theatrical cuts of The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers and The Return of the King hit Blu-ray last year, it was obvious that the longer cuts—released on DVD years ago—would make their way to the high-def format, and since this year marks the ten-year anniversary of the first film’s release (also celebrated with one-night theatrical screenings across the nation), there obviously couldn’t be a better time than now. That said, it’s also not surprising that there would be a fair share of criticism, whether it’s a controversial shift in the color timing throughout the first film or the standard-def quality of the hours and hours of interviews and documentaries that accompany the set. Nevertheless, the 11-hour-plus journey across Middle-earth has never looked or sounded better and is an absolute must-have for die-hard Rings fans.