Apologize for the delay in fine journalism. Been working a bit on a new project called Eagleegg. Check out the first album:
A Brief History Of Drum Machines Part I: 1959-1983
In 1959 Wurlitzer Organs released the first commercially available drum machine, The Sideman, an all analog tube powered beast about the size of a dorm room fridge.
Drummers nationwide were outraged as were many involved in The Musicians Association who pressured Wurlitzer to discontinue the instrument claiming it was stealing the jobs of real live drummers (though that was extremely unlikely given its primitive sound quality). The Sideman was responsible the musical equivalent of The Red Scare. Wurlitzer continued with their drum machines despite the TMA’s gripes, building them into many of their home organs. My own personal earliest memory of playing with a drum machine was playing the preset patterns built into the Wurlitzer console organ at my grandmothers house, I recall particularly enjoying playing the Bossa Nova selection and sliding the tempo fad-er to the max. I found it rather comical even at a young age I could easily tell the difference between the Wurly’s drum machine and the sound of a real drum kit.
Speaking purely in terms of public reception, drum machines were generally the black sheep of the music industry all throughout the 1960’s. The fear they instilled in working drummers seemed to fade away almost as quickly as it had appeared and all was right once again, for the time being. Church and social event organists continued to use them for accompaniment but drum machines were quickly becoming a non-issue in the music industry. At some point in the mid-sixties the first successful drum machine was released. “The Rhythm Ace” created by a company called Ace Tone was the choice of organists everywhere. Ace Tone would exist for a few more years before changing their name to Roland.
In the mid 1970’s disco took root, mostly in clubs in Philadelphia and New York. Disco was favored mostly by minorities, the gay community and heterosexuals rebelling against the hateful climate towards any dance oriented music in the era of big loud guitar-driven rock music. It combined many of the instrumental elements of funk and soul music over a steady “Four On The Floor” beat (boom clap boom clap with booms under the claps as well). A large portion of the population felt the same way about disco that drummers did about drum machines, “Disco Sucks” became a rock n roll call to arms. In 1979 a promotional event known as “Disco Demolition Night” took place at a White Sox vs. Tigers double header. A large crate of disco records were blown up on the field and shortly after a large riot ensued. It’s popularity in the beginning of 1980 began to rapidly decline in the United States but grew in many other areas of the world. Drum machines were in minimal use in Disco though often times the sound of the real drums mimicked that of a machine. Also of note around the same time would be their use in the newly burgeoning genre of hip hop, a then underground style of music being cultivated in the South Bronx section of NYC.
The term Disco was deemed rather unfashionable at the start of the 1980’s. Any new music containing a disco influence was known simply as “Dance Music” though many of its defining elements, particularly the “Four On The Floor” beat defined the sound of 80’s popular music. It was in this new decade that the drum machine as well as the synthesizer would have their day in the sun.
1980 was a year for a lot of firsts in the musical equipment universe. The creation of sampling, a new technology which allowed producers capture audio from various sources and manipulate it into new song ideas and structures, arguably one of the most important technological advances and a defining element of hip hop music. 1980 also saw the creation of two of the most important and revered drum machines of all time.
The LM-1 Drum Computer was the first drum machine to use samples of live drums. It was also one of the first programmable drum machines. The LM-1 became readily available to the public in 1980 at a list price of $4995.00. It was well out of the realm of affordability for the common musician. To this day it is highly sought after by many musicians and producers as a collectors item as well as for its characteristic sound. It can be heard on the recordings of such famous artists as Michael Jackson, Madonna and the Human League, it was also favored by german electro stalwarts Kraftwerk. Only 525 of these were ever produced, 36 of which were built by Linn in his home, The first of which belongs to Stevie Wonder. The LM-1 surpassed its intended use as demo accompaniment and actually became the full on rhythm section for many prominent synth based acts of the time. Prince is said to have a rather large collection of LM-1’s many of which were customized specifically for him, you can hear them working their magic particularly on tracks like “When Doves Cry” or “The Ballad Of Dorothy Parker.” Linn eventually developed the machines successor the LM2, it retailed for about $2500.00 less but was nowhere near as successful or memorable.
The Roland TR-808 was one of the first programmable drum machines. It was originally manufactured for use as a tool for studio musicians to create demos much like the LM-1. Like earlier Roland drum machines, it does not sound very much like a real drum kit. Despite the availability of sampling Roland chose to make the 808 entirely analog using basic wave form shaping and editable white noise bursts. The 808 came out several months after the LM-1. Its sound was considered inferior to sampling drum machines. While technologically it was vastly inferior its price tag kept it alive for the following 3 years. The 808 retailed at $1000.00 and as many as 12,000 units were produced and sold from 1980-1983. Drum machines in general were becoming an essential part of hip hop acting as an affordable way of producing a unique drum sound. The Roland TR-808 held specific appeal which can be attributed to the ability of its kick drum sound to produce earth shatteringly low-frequencies. Listen to any track off of “Licensed To Ill” and you’ll see what i’m talking about.
The 808 proved equally successful in dance music as well and still does to this day, an 808 kick is as relevant today as it was 30 years ago, even someone as conceited as Kanye West knows when to pay tribute to a legendary piece of kit. Unlike the DM-1 which is rather tough to come by due to it’s rarity, an 808 can still be acquired though it will now cost you somewhere in the neighborhood of $2000.00.
I hope you’ve enjoyed our first installment on the history of the drum machine. Part two is on the way! Thanks for reading www.meaningfulthings.org
-Tyler Pursel-
Movie Review #4 Revanche (2008)
From Austrian filmmaker Gotz Spielman comes “Revanche” a rather existential character piece dressed up like a thriller. It stars Johannes Krisch as Alex, a man stripped of meaning and plagued by thoughts of revenge in the aftermath of a crime that was to better his life as well as his girlfriend Tamara’s. The film takes place mostly on a small farm owned by Alex’s father, Hausner, in the lush wooded outskirts of Vienna.
Most descriptions make mention of a film entirely about redemption, taking place entirely in a brothel in Vienna’s red light district. While there is no actual showing of any sort of violence it is more than suggested. I went in expecting a straightforward revenge movie. Most promo up until its release chose to ignore it’s more apparent art house leanings and focus solely on it’s gritty secondary elements which are quite lacking in pertinence to the overall story. Certain descriptions read like “Cinemax After Dark” programming.
Critique of the film is by and large quite good but there are a few sprawling reviews out there from folks who feel they were bamboozled, suggesting the movie is nothing more than a guy chopping wood for 2 hours. My personal opinion falls somewhere between the two.
I can appreciate and enjoy cinema of all forms. I find just as much enjoyment in Cassavetes as I do in Family Guy. What I don’t enjoy is bullshit marketing, the type employed only to get a vast majority of people in the door rather than attempting to appeal to it’s target audience, people who would enjoy the film for it’s less mainstream ideals. It’s truly aggravating though I gather what i’ve just described is probably the text book definition of good marketing from the marketers perspective but I digress.
I’m glad I took the bait and watched Revanche. I highly recommend it to anyone who finds satisfaction in character study. Johannes Krisch’s performance is cinematic perfection. I’ve kept this review purposefully short as to not give away to much of the story but don’t let that steer you away.
-Tyler Pursel-
Movie Review #3 High And Low (1963)
For my first foray into Japanese film exploration I’ve chosen to examine Akira Kurosawa’s classic film noir “High And Low”. Despite its incredibly western title, the film takes place entirely in post-war 1960’s Japan. Our protagonist is a wealthy business man known as Mr. Gondo. He is factory manager and shareholder in a company called National Shoes. While the company is managing to do quite well Mr. Gondo has higher expectations for its development however his efforts are limited due to a division of opinion with the companies owner and other main shareholders. In a bold move Mr. Gondo borrows against everything he owns and raises 50,000,000 yen. Prior to that Gondo arranged to buy an additional 19% stake in the company making him the largest shareholder in National Shoes. With the money now in his possession he is able to set up the deal, he makes arrangements for his assistant to travel to Osaka to deliver the money personally.
It is only moments later when a call comes in to Mr. Gondo’s home. The man’s voice on the other end of the line informs him his son has been kidnapped and demands a ransom of 30,000,000 yen for the boys safe return. Panic sets in until Jun, Gondo’s son walks into the room. There is a moment of joy when its decided that the call was a hoax though this quickly dissolves upon discovery that Jun’s friend and Mr. Gondo’s associate Mr. Aoki’s child Shinichi was taken by accident. The kidnapper calls back eventually realizing his mistake but still demanding the ransom. Mr Gondo enters into an immense moral quandary, whether or not to use his life’s worth to purchase a controlling interest in National Shoes or to help his friend/employee get his child back.
High And Low simply oozes with depth, a characteristic often lacking in most American films of similar premise. While moral dilemma almost always makes for great entertainment it is certainly nothing groundbreaking in cinema. With “High And Low” Kurosawa creates a beautifully paced multi-layered yet unidirectional story. The dispute and tension between Gondo and the kidnapper is an impudent parallel for rich vs. poor social issues made all the more interesting if you consider the Japanese post war economic miracle. There are several allusions to class-ism throughout the film my personal favorite being Gondo opening the glass doors to his luxurious porch to reveal the sounds of industrial machinery and factories off in the distance from his house on the mountain, the sounds of the blue collar working class, a people he at one time or another probably considered of less importance than himself. When he closes the doors the room goes silent.
With the advent of financial interventionism Japan was quickly able to sustain and control economic growth within their society. In The world of business, personal ethics and the bottom line have almost always been a source of contention. Japan has long been a champion of both moral fortitude and business/economic development. Admittedly my understanding of Japanese culture is not all that vast but from what I can tell it has always promoted two very important fundamental ideals: Work hard, be loyal to your work and do the right thing, help your fellow countrymen. Mr. Gondo is faced with the unfortunate situation of these two symmetrically rigid ideals crashing head on into one another.
In terms of cinematography a large portion of the film is shot in a rather dull gridlocked manner sometimes with minutes of film passing with no change in camera angle, lighting, or anything really. With the exception of the uncomfortable and mildly grotesque scenes shot in “Junky Alley” the camera work of the film is deeply rooted in placidity. While the overall stillness can be a bit daunting it certainly has its place mostly in establishing ardent feeling notably in the earlier scenes. When Mr. Gondo receives a call you get a real sense of the mixture of drama emanating from the room, the tension-fueled police men hoping to be able to trace the call, Gondo’s wife and Mr. Aoki in shambles over the missing boy, the room dropping to a dead silence when the kidnapper speaks. All of this is nicely framed up in simple static shots for a viewing experience reminiscent of being a fly on the wall in Mr. Gondo’s home.
A major source of indulgence for me personally was watching the Japanese police put together clues to uncover the whereabouts and identity of the kidnapper. Having not really watched much in the way of crime drama type shows outside of catching the occasional episode of something like “Law & Order” or “CSI” it was truly interesting to see police using their most valuable tool, their own brains to solve crimes. Oddly enough I was reminded of a scene in the movie “Superbad” when Mclovin was riding around in the police car and asked Seth Rogen whether or not they would catch the criminal that mugged him in the liquor store. Seth makes light of the fact that in most TV cop shows crimes are almost always solved due to the presence of blood, semen or fingerprints with forensics without which nothing ever gets solved. Although the movie is fake (by that I mean not based on true events) and at certain moments believability must be suspended a bit to truly enjoy whats happening, I found the methodology the police applied rather fascinating. It was cool to see what the police had to do to solve crimes before computers and science started doing the majority of the work for them.
High And Low is an excellent piece of film noir that manages to explore evenly: socio-political themes, depth of spirit as well as moral and ethical struggle, and that’s just whats below the surface. On top you have an entertaining and compelling tale of determination and an excellent portrayal of law enforcement truly giving their all to help an individual who chose heroism despite the fact that it would likely ruin him. Its a real long player clocking in at just under two and a half hours but well worth it and well paced given its lengthy running time. If you don’t mind reading subtitles this is truly one not to be missed.
-Tyler Pursel-
James Blake: Riding shotgun in the hypemobile
Ever since indie music managed to crack the ice and swim somewhat freely in the mainstream a bad sort of hype has run rampant for artist after artist who appears even mildly different than your average buttrock band. While it occasionally exposes an excellent band or two, it is more often than not undeserved puff created by well paid PR representatives and over eager record labels afraid to let the music stand on its own two feet, a sort of run before you crawl routine. Unfortunately in the music industry artists rarely get a second chance to make a first impression. If your record doesn’t hold up to the raving reviews of uber-hip bloggers and magazines the band or artist likely end up filed away like an old tax return, Its there in case you need it but you probably won’t. Examples of this phenomena include but are not limited to: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! and The Rapture both bands that made one slightly better than okay record and then dropped off the face of the earth. More recently we have bands like Beach House and Mumford and Sons who I assume are destined to suffer the same fate, maybe not Mumford and kids given all their radio play and yuppie mom love recently, but definetly Beach House, If theres a VH1 Indie Rock “Where Are They Now” those dudes will have en episode.
Being a pretty fanatical music fan and avid listener I do what I can to keep up with the “hype”. I regularly read music periodicals/blogs/etc. and buy records as much as my finances will allow. Modern technology and the internet make it easy for anyone who wants to create, document and promote their music/art but it also makes for a pretty crowded houseparty, the type where your host is afraid to kick out the asshole pissing on the couch and inappropriately touching your girlfriend. What were left with is a big, nasty, black pool of music. There are still many of us willing to wade through the dark waters in search of the few hidden treasures but most have simply given up content to listen to whatever the captains of cool have bumping in their hypemobile. I call this “Pitchfork Syndrome”. Many victims of this awful disease helped bands like the Arctic Monkeys buy jet planes and high class whores.
If you remember earlier in this article I did mention that the hype machine does occasionally churn out some quality smoke, most recently in the form of a 22 year old english powerhouse known as James Blake. If you took a school bus and crammed it full of all the super hyped artists so far in 2011 JB would most certainly be in the drivers seat. Some are going as far as calling it the album of the year despite being only 4 months into said year (really guys, really?). While I’m not willing to go quite that far just yet (there’s a lot of months left after all) I will say this, James blake is simply put quite brilliant and extremely unique.
Upon first listen I was somewhat confused, having discovered Blake while reading through an internet music blog I decided to pop over to youtube to see what I could turn up not really expecting all that much. I pulled up a video for his track “Limit To Your Love” and moments later a dark piano and a voice somewhere between Bill Withers and Michael Mcdonald came shooting out of the tiny speakers of my laptop. I decided a voice like that deserved a good pair of headphones. I thought I had it all figured out. A young, good-looking english boy on some John Legend shit, an R&B crooner for the skinny jeans crowd guaranteed to make the ladies swoon, hipster soul hath descended upon us! I was sort of right but wrong at the same time.
0:54 seconds in the beat drops. After a cool moment of silence the wobbly sub atomic bass explodes my headphones in a total “what the fuck” kind of moment, color me interested! I had to hear the rest of the album.
The opening track “Unluck” begins with a warm filtered synth and a sputtering clicky drum loop with a little static for good measure and were off to a good start. it was not until the 2nd track entitled “A Wilhelm Scream” that I discovered the true genius of Blake’s approach in his brave exploration of genre juxtaposition. The synth still nicely baked and warm from the previous track starts in along with a similar drum loop.
After a few bars Blake’s rich vocals enter contemplatively “I don’t know about my dreams, I don’t know about my dreaming anymore, all that I know is i’m falling, falling, falling, falling, might as well fall in” and i’m quite simply and honestly floored. From a sonic standpoint its like all the greatest male voices of classic soul are battling later era radiohead and DNTEL-esque electronics for supremacy while simultaneously forming an understanding based on the occupation of mutual space. The song continues with Blake echoing variations of the eloquent opening line into a slowly cascading sea of reverberated synthesizer, cymbal washes and fuzzy atmosphere before being abruptly broken down to its initial warm blanket form.
I was blown away. I began playing this track for any friend or family member who cared to listen to a vast array of acclaim and confusion ranging from: “This is amazing”, to “I don’t get it” to “Really? You like this shit?”, for me only strengthening my opinion of its superiority, After all, where there is debate there is greatness.
Upon taking in the rest of the album I did find a few areas of mediocrity in the otherwise calming sea of bliss. At points the schizophrenic glitchiness of things tends to get a bit grating occupying more than its alotted space. James also seems to have quite the penchant for warping the shit out of his vocals sometimes resulting in odd harmoneous delight but also sounding annoying and uneccessary. Though these unpleasant oddities are not all that frequent their presence made me ponder what sort of record James Blake could make in the future with the assistance of a producer (This record was recorded entirely at home by Blake). While his electro off kilter grooves and vocal processing make for an interesting listen Blake’s golden voice is what gives the music a sense of meaning and purpose whereas without it we’d be left with the kind of artsy indie electronica the machine is known for churning out and quickly filing away (Sup Delphic).
The voice is full of possibility and certainly not genre limited. I would love to hear JB singing over a Roots groove or perhaps making a record with the assistance of someone like Nigel Godrich or Beck, or better yet Nigel Godrich and Beck! All things considered this is a hell of a debut LP that blurs the lines between brilliant songwriting and unique outsider electronica, like someone took a couple pop songs and fucked them up in a pleasing way. It seems as though James was properly trained to drive the hypemobile. He is currently traveling the music super highway at warp speed, lets hope he doesn’t crash.
-Tyler Pursel-
Movie Review #2 Everlasting Moments (2008)
Everlasting Moments is the story of Maria Larrson a mother of 7 trying to raise her family in early 20th century Sweden. She spends most days caring for her children while being a punching bag of the physical and emotional sort for her husband Sigge. In desperate need of extra money she attempts to pawn a camera she had won in a raffle years earlier. She visits a local photography shop and after sometime befriends the owner Mr. Pedersan. Pedersan encourages her to take photographs and at least try the camera before selling it off to him. Maria obliges and turns out to have quite the eye for photography. Despite her life being rather difficult her camera acts as a place of solace throughout the film.
Directed by Swedish filmmaker Jan Troell and shot with assistance from cinematographer Mischa Gavrjusjov the films visual appeal is stunning right from the opening shot. Much like the photograph’s Maria takes, the film is bathed in a beautiful warm glow rich in sepia tones pale grays and taupe. Troell has admitted his intentions in this department and explained the process used in conjuring the look. It involves shooting to 16 mm film then imposing onto standard 35 mm, by doing so the film gains a special kind of graininess unachievable by any other means.
Having not read much in the way of critique prior to viewing I was not aware while watching that the film is based on a true story, that of Troell’s own grandmother. I half expected this to be the kind of fodder you’d see in a common american drama about an empowered woman, thinking Maria would leave her husband and become a famous photographer and everyone would be happy… Thankfully it wasn’t that film at all even though it very easily could have been. I think I like this Troell fellow.
Rather than focusing on photography as a vehicle for change Maria uses it to cope with the trials of her everyday life, a little secret happiness she gets to keep for herself in an existence that has been rather brutal to her. EM has a special personal touch which seems as though it could only come from a true story, it evokes odd feelings of the type that somewhat force the viewer to look inward. It’s portrayal of photography as this sort of serious magic is utterly beautiful without coming off as contrived. It amazing when you consider we live in a time when any asshole with a camera and a macbook can be a photographer and take what on the surface would be considered good pictures.
I felt at times that Troell went in a bit to far past believability. Sigge’s actions at times seemed unrealistic. Our first impressions are of a happy and decent man who just happens to have a problem with alcohol. In the sweeter times, his relationship with Maria appears incredibly gentle and understanding. As the films timeline progresses, so does Sigge’s rage and patience with his wife resulting in some rather sad and uncomfortable viewing. With only Troell knowing the full truth behind the story I suppose we will never know how much of an embellishment is made in portraying Sigge as this sort of Jekyll and Hyde-esque character.
I enjoyed this film and highly recommend it if even just for the visual aspects. I plan to see some of Troell’s earlier films based on look alone.
-Tyler Pursel-
Movie Review #1 The Wages Of Fear (1953)
“The Wages Of Fear” hit theaters at the start of the new year in 1953. Written and Directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot this film takes place in the small poverty stricken municipality of Las Piedras in Puerto Rico. At the offset we are introduced to our main character Mario, a french drifter drumming up whatever small work he can to make ends meet but mostly just loafing about town drinking and harassing the locals. He shares a room with a hardworking overly-optimisitc Italian aquaintance named Luigi. Soon after we are introduced to Jo who at first glance appears to be wealthy, it is later revealed, after a chance encounter with Mario, that Jo is in fact broke and had to skip town due to some sour business involving smuggling. Mario and Jo become fast friends upon realization that they are both of french descent and share the same financial woes. Their friendship eventually makes problems for Luigi resulting in Mario moving out of the room that they share and the dissolution of their friendship.
Despite the economic situation overall in Las Piedras, there is a large oil presence in the village and surrounding areas. The oil is controlled entirely by the SOC (Southern Oil Company) which is overseen by a Greedy and careless american called O’Brien. A nearby fire in one of the oil fields causes many problems and much profit loss for the SOC and is the catalyst to the plot of the film. The solution manifests itself in the form of two trucks loaded with Nitro Glycerin that are to be driven to the site and used to create an air consuming blast to stop the oil fire, the only issue is finding 4 men brave and/or stupid enough to make the trip. The roads leading to the site are treacherous and the nitro highly volatile. After the SOC offers a wage of $2000.00 per man (approximately $14,000 or so by today’s standards) a tryout is held after which it is decided that Mario and and a man called Smerloff will drive one truck while Luigi and a quiet intense man named Bimba will take the other. On the evening they are set to leave Smerloff never turns up but Jo does claiming that he is there to “see his friend off.” The other men immediately suspect foul play but after a while when Smerloff doesn’t show up Jo is elected to take his place. The rest of the film plays out as an extended thrilling action sequence documenting the journey of the 4 characters to the oil fields.
To call this movie an edge-of-your-seat thriller sounds a bit cliche but it is a dead accurate description. Many critics have overlooked how simply bad ass and manly this film is, probably because those adjectives don’t line up with their pseudo intellectual psychobabble. I’ve read many other critics that spend paragraphs going on and on about its social commentary, rather its ability to portray accurately the plight of the poor sad and lost man in the 1950’s, a rather drastic juxtaposition to the common american man in the same time period. While I believe there to be a lot of truth and importance in capturing that (And this film certainly does), I would still say a good portion of it’s brilliance resides directly on whats happening on the surface. Society hardened men smoking cigarettes, drinking, driving trucks filled with deadly explosives across immensely dangerous roadways, physical struggle, mental struggle, doing what they have to do to make it. Its packed with testosterone but in an entirely different way than a shitty Vin Diesel flick.
While this work by Clouzet is certainly comparable to that of works by Hitchcock, mostly for its stark sort of hopeless realism I liken it more to a film like Cool Hand Luke. It’s ability to truly examine the length of the male human spirit without being to vague or getting to artsy about it is incredible. Its ability to tell a simple story anyone can follow while still retaining a good amount of girth for those who wish to dig a bit deeper is uncanny. Fortunately the overall emotional content manages to present itself quite blatantly, you get a sense of the junk drawer of fluctuating emotions plaguing the characters by simply looking at them, dialogue is almost secondary in translating these feelings.
You have Mario who at the outset appears very devil may care and morally bankrupt with regard to his fellow man but shows an occasional sense of compassion every now and again almost as if it were a sort of freudian slip, He is presented to us as the good looking playboy who has lived much of his life with a bag over his head and while he has managed to tear many holes in its lining, the bag still very much remains in place up until the end of the film, a much loved and familiar character since the dawn of cinema. He is generally dismissive and acts only and almost entirely in his own interest even to his part time lover the gorgeous but rather aimless character Linda played by Clouzot’s own wife.
The character of Jo is merely but a reversal of the old idiom “A wolf in sheep’s clothing” though this is not truly discovered until almost the mid point of the film prior to which he does a good job of hiding with his needlessly aggressive behavior, much in the same way Mario hides his need for friendship and companionship. Jo is old, bitter and difficult which works in his favor allowing him to create the illusion of fortitude when really he is rather sad, weak and angry at the world around him more than likely from living a rather fraudulent and aimless existence.
Luigi is probably one of the most interesting characters in the bunch, while his unwavering confidence and jovial sense of humor in the face of almost certain death are admirable, they also posess the unique ability to make him appear quite simple. It does create a very subtle bit of humor for the viewer so much so at times I have wonder if it was intentional. Due to his mildly humorous positivity it was difficult to determine whether Luigi was truly conscious of the danger he put himself in and was relying on his happier qualities to avoid acknowledging it or if he truly could only foresee the trip being an honest success.
Bimba is the only character whom I felt wore even his deepest emotional complexities on his sleeve, we are lead to believe that his entire life has been very much a parallell of this dangerous journey he signed on for. He spoke of working in a salt mine for many years saying only that this current adventure is a walk in the park comparatively speaking. He portrays a man who has lived a hard life not of his own choosing but by circumstance, he chooses to go on almost in spite of that fact and without an overwhelming sense of self pity or brutish compensation. Bimba plays it pretty straight he is aware of his own problems and shortcomings and chooses to face them head on rather than avoid or internally bury them. Though he is a rather minor character in the grand scheme of the film he adds an interesting bit of depth.
It is obvious even after only one viewing that Clouzot intended the film to have a sort of anti-American subtext and if thats the kind of thing that bothers you steer clear. Upon its initial US release a lot of those scenes were cut out. At one point or another and most certainly in the Criterion edition, the film was restored to its original edit leaving all the freedom eagle hating propaganda intact!
I’m kidding of course.
In fact the films commentary on all things oil related is pretty spot on, its kind of sad that the same sentiments still exist about the US today, especially in relation to oil. While the anti-American subtext undoubtedly exists in this film, it is certainly valid in most points that it makes about our nature in the 50’s and even somewhat today in relation to oil.
Overall I truly believe “The Wages Of Fear” to be one of the best foreign thrillers I have ever seen especially considering its age, its ability to strike an emotional chord with me today despite being made over half a century ago shows a timeless brilliance that I doubt will fade even with the passing of another 58 years. Pick up the Criterion edition on bluray if your into that sort of thing or check it out on Netflix streaming.
-Tyler Pursel-
