IRT Magazine

Last night I was lucky enough to attend an advance screening of the new Nine Inch Nails DVD Live: Beside You In Time at the Knitting Factory last night (Scarlett J. was sadly not around). I’ve seen every Nine Inch Nails tour since 94’s Self Destruct Tour until their smaller club tour in ‘05. After viewing the stage presentation of the big arena tour of ‘06 i am really pissed I didn’t make the effort to go see Trent and company when they played Madison Square Garden. Anti war video montages and a band that couldn’t be tighter prove that NIN has not lost its’ fire over the years. Although many consider With The Teeth not to be Trent Reznor’s greatest work the songs sound great live.

I watch a lot of movies on the weekend. It’s almost a damn pathology. Here’s a quick list of what I saw this weekend

Iron Man - Not much needs to be said about this one. The latest in Marvel’s straight to DVD animated movies. A bit darker than either of the Ultimate Avengers films, but still tame enough not to offend most. If you Like comics, superhero movies or good animation you’ll enjoy it if not you won’t. It’s that simple

Dreamgirls - A film that seems tailor made to appeal to the Academy. Well executed, great performance by everybody (especially Jennifer Hudson). Didn’t really move me all that much. My main problem was that I didn’t like the music. I wanted some deep Motown/soul inspired jams. Instead I got standard Broadway fare.

Smoking Aces - As over the top and violent as it was I was hoping it would be even MORE over the top. Crank did a better job of blowing my doors off. Some good cameos though. If you want an entertaining movie you don’t have to think too hard about this is for you.

Absolute Warhola - A quirky documentary about the Slovakian town where Andy Warhol’s family is from. A charming study of cultural differences and the full spectrum of human personalities this doc will appeal to anyone who likes to observe human nature.

Iraq For Sale - Robert Greenwald’s (Director of Wal Mart The High Cost of Low Prices and Unprecedented) latest doc takes aim at Halliburton and other companies making a profit by privatizing the Iraq War while putting our soldiers in danger. If this film does not make your blood boil you should check your pulse.

Venus - Peter O’Toole, in one of the greatest performances of his already illustrious career,  plays Maurice, an aging actor falling deeper and deeper into the despair of old age until he meets Jessie, the beautiful twenty-something looking after his friend. Halfway between a cute old man and a dirty old man, O’Toole rides the balance between the two like a tightrope walker. You’ll see this film as heartwarming rather than creepy and that’s what makes this special.

Letters From Iwo Jima - Rarely have I seen a film that captures the futility and pointlessness of war like Letters From Iwo Jima. The second in Clint Eastwood’s films highlighting the Battle Of Iwo Jima during WW2 and told through the eyes of Japanese soldiers. What is more important - life or honor? Your future or the legacy of your country? This film will have you asking these questions, but won’t supply any easy answers

Sherrybaby -  Maggie Gyllenhaal became a star with her role in Secretary. She was great in that movie, but she’s even better in this. She plays Sherry, just out of prison and free of drugs for over 2 years. She is trying to cope with readjusting to life on the outside and trying to get her daughter back. Gritty and real, sometimes this feels like watching home movies. This is what all indie film should be

Testament – A 1983 film dealing with the effects of nuclear war in a small California town. One woman struggles to hold her family together as her town fall apart around her. Testament gets props for portraying nuclear war in a realistic manner while keeping the story very personal. Check out Kevin Costner in one of his first film appearances.

So.. The Oscar nominations..

Should the IRT, a magazine which prides itself on not being part of the celebrity-fucking mainstream media, really give lip service to the ultimate in Hollywood self-congratulation? Normally I’d say no. But this year deserves a few shout outs…

Little Miss Sunshine gets a nomination for best picture – Not only was this a small indie film of the type the academy usually relegates to best screenplay category like an idiot savant boiler room freak, but it was also one of the most graceful critique of George W. Bush’s America seen all year. A small family perseveres together amidst pressures to conform to the rigidity of conservative culture where life is “just one beauty contest after another” As Dwayne (played by Paul Dano) says, “do what you love and fuck the rest” .Of course this film has about as much chance of winning as Chinese Democracy has of ever being released. As the saying goes it’s an honor just being nominated

Pan’s Labyrinth getting nominations – A dark, uncompromising fantasy film juxtaposing the horrors of fascism in post civil war Spain with the fantasies of a young girl wishing for escape. This will surely go down as Guillermo del Toro’s masterpiece.

The Departed – Best film of ‘06… PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let this be Marty’s year.

Dropkick Murphys not being nominated for best song??? WTF??? – What the fuck is wrong with you Academy? The use of the Murphys’ “I’m Shipping Up To Boston” was not only the best use of music in film all year, but one of the best uses of music in film ever. Yeah, I said it, ever. And the academy just looks away. If the Three 6 Mafia can win an Oscar, surely the Murphy’s can be nominated…

So I was heading back home to Long Island from New Jersey as I always do on the weekend last Sunday, and I was cutting across Canal to the Manhattan Bridge from the West Side Highway when I realized I hadn’t dropped any copies of the new issue off at the Knitting Factory.

It was a realitively slow night at the Knit that night, something about a reception party on the second level or what have you, so I got to talking with the kind doorfolk when one of them pointed out a rather heavily scarved lady walking her little pocket dog a few feet away.

“That’s Scarlett Johansson,” she confided. “She lives nearby here.”

Needless to say, I was stunned to be in such close proximity to what many would agree is prolly the hottest woman on the face of the earth at this very moment. And I’m talking Winona Ryder circa 1989 hot! What else could I do but bid my friends at the Knit adieu and slink over to the famed young actress of such films as Lost In Translation and my girlfriend and I’s current favorite Woody Allen flick Scoop to hand her a copy of our new issue.

“Would you like a copy of our magazine, Scarlett,” I croaked, an obvious bundle of nerves.

“We got something on Tom Waits in here,” I added, shamelessly, having prior knowledge of her recording of an album of Waits covers.

“Cool,” she cooed as she took the copy from my hand and smiled.

“Cute dog,” I retorted, to which the little pup answered in a gruf little yip.

“Scoop was a helluva movie,” I proclaimed before wishing her a good evening and scurrying off.

Who knows whether or not she brought it home and read it cover to cover. For all I know, she could’ve used the mag to pick up her dog’s shitpile from the curb. But hey, I can honestly say though that Scarlett Johansson thinks our magazine is cool.

And now, I can die a happy man.

-Ed

So I watched an episode of that show on MTV where a buncha tools compete for a gig at Rolling Stone.  The blond chick who looks like Joss Stone was kind of hot, but other than that, I am almost certain that both Ralph Gleason and Hunter S. Thompson are spinning in their graves over the fact that this once mighty voice in alternative American journalism has sunk to these depths.

For those of us who have had guys like Joe Levy and Nathan Brackett ignore our emails and delete our resumes in hopes of obtaining an actual writing job at Rolling Stone, allow me to say how sickening it was to watch these complete morons fuck up interviews, blow off deadlines and stammer around the RS office blurting out stupid shit like that douchebag Russell.  Especially considering that the strong majority of these contestants cannot even write.

Maybe the IRT should pitch MTV an equally enaging reality TV show about what it’s really like to be a struggling rock journo out there in the cold, hard world, where publicists constantly lie in your ear and talk shit behind your back and glossy mag editors gas you up for future collaborations and then ignore your follow-up inquiries in favor of the guy who has no fucking clue as to who Band of Horses are, but has a cute limey accent and is easy to deal with. 

Nah, that wouldn’t work.  Hey, how about this concept:  Let’s get Henry Owings from Chunklet, Richard Meltzer and the ghost of Lester Bangs to mentor these same contestants on this show instead of Jenny Eliscu and Brian Hiatt and watch and laugh as they roast their cornball asses over a hot open fire stoked by old copies of Trouser Press and the NY Rocker.  Then send them on assignment to interview J. Mascis and try to get enough quotables for a 25,000 word piece, only after forcing them to produce a buyer’s guide to the catalog of the Red Krayola written completely in prime numbers. 

The winner shall receive a year-long internship here at the Tribune, where their day-to-day duties will include choking down jars of pickled herring, start random fights with people at Mars Bar, picking the worms out of my friend’s cat’s butt with their teeth and trying to convince the publicists at Rhino Records, Judy at Motormouth Media and that dude from Narnack who told me to stick my magazine up my dick that I really am a nice enough guy.

You think that would fly?

Ed.