U2: Elevation 2001 - Live From Boston

You probably remember your first-ever live concert. You felt the thrill of being a part of the crowd and the excitement of seeing the artist take the stage. Perhaps you found a greater appreciation for a certain member of the band and realized that in a live setting, songs you’d heard only in their recorded versions came alive in a new way. You may remember feeling the high, jumping up and down with excitement, and then just basking in the afterglow as the last song ended and you came back down to reality.

Hopefully you had an experience like that the first time you saw U2. That’s the way it was for me. It was when I watched U2. Live in Boston. The Elevation Tour DVD.

Ok, ok, hear me out. Let me give you some context. I grew up mostly in a little town in northeastern Montana during the early days of the internet era. I happened upon U2 through a series of random events that could only be orchestrated by Fate, and obtained The Joshua Tree CD when I was 11. I started to collect the band’s albums whenever and however I could. Again, it was long before iPods. Also, my only job was mowing my grandpa’s lawn.

I was 15 when All That You Can’t Leave Behind came out and it was the first album release I experienced in real time. I remember waiting SO LONG for music videos to load on U2.com over our dial-up modem. All I really knew about the band at this point was picked up by poring over liner notes and listening to their music incessantly on my Discman. Now they were the big thing of the moment, “Beautiful Day” was a hit, and they were all over TV. They were even going on tour! I was several days of driving away from anywhere they were headed and I didn’t even consider attending a show a possibility. Not happening.

Fast forward to early 2002. Always a music nerd, I was on a band trip in Billings, MT, and so we stopped at a mall for a few hours of shopping. This was like a visit to a pop culture oasis, and I was thirsty. I hightailed it to Sam Goody to look for music. As always, I went straight to the “U” section, and that’s when I saw it: the special edition DVD box set for The Elevation Tour: Live In Boston. Like a movie of U2? Where they’re recorded playing live? A whole concert? I paid the $32.99 without a thought – not a little sum to me in those days.

When I got home a day or two later, at the first chance I got I rushed down to our basement and put in the disc with the concert. I was tingling with anticipation and all alone with a front row ticket. From the first moments I was in a trance. I remember the slow-motion walk as the band enters the arena to the intro of “Elevation” with the house lights up. They start playing until, BOOM, the lights go out and they hit it hard. “Elevation” wasn’t my favorite song on ATYCLB but at this point I was all alone, in my basement, lights off, watching this amazing moment and FREAKING OUT.

One thing I learned while watching the show was that The Edge is the engine that keeps this band running. His guitar solos in “Until The End Of The World” and “Bullet The Blue Sky.” His angry guitar-slamming at the end of “Gone.” His beautiful smooth crooning on “In A Little While” – be still my heart. I could never have fully realized how much work The Edge does for the band until I saw him live. He became my hero.

There were many classic U2 moments that were completely new to me and I experienced for the first time: the bullfight between Bono & The Edge in “UTEOTW”; Larry’s snare drumming in “Sunday Bloody Sunday”; the crowd singing the end of “40”; the unforgettable climax of “Streets”; Bono singing intimately to the entire arena through one girl brought up on stage in “With or Without You”; and on and on.

I had underestimated or previously failed to notice many of the songs they played, and seeing them performed in this context brought fresh perspective. “UTEOTW,” “Gone,” “I Will Follow,” “Stay,” and “The Fly” were all in that category. I went back to the records and heard these songs with new ears. And the combination of “Bad” in to “Where the Streets Have No Name” at the show’s zenith is almost indescribable. These were already some of my favorite U2 songs, but before this I hadn’t realized their full potential: two of the band’s most soaring anthems coming together in a blissful explosion. I know some say “City of Blinding Lights” is the new “Streets,” but there is nothing that compares for me.

I also knew ATYCLB really well, so “Beautiful Day,” “Kite,” and “New York” felt exciting. But it was “Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of” and “In A Little While” that had me, at first, up out of my chair with excitement, and, at their conclusion, each leaving me in a puddle on the floor. And “Walk On” was a perfect closer. I was almost in tears as Bono sang out his declarations of gratitude. As the last notes approached and the credits started to roll, I just sat there dumbfounded, paralyzed, basking in the experience.

I know I wasn’t at a live concert, but there are few moments in my U2 fandom as visceral and exciting as watching this amazing concert film. It transformed my understanding of the band. As a student of the visual medium, the story told through the editing was energetic and put me in all the right places of the arena at all the right times. In addition to the music, I also loved hearing Bono tell stories and seeing how the four band members interacted with each other in a hundred small moments. I felt like I really got to know them and was blown away by how they connected with the audience.

Since then, I have seen the band six times live. The first time was the 360° tour in Chicago. Even though I was way up in the cheap seats, it was a thrill with many impactful moments. Still, I can remember Live in Boston more than I remember moments from that tour. The next time I saw them on the GA floor at Innocence and Experience, just a few feet from the front bar, was when I finally had the truly rapturous live, in-person experience. The Joshua Tree 2017 and Experience and Innocence tours both provided some amazing memories as well. But I will always remember fondly the Sunday afternoon that this nerdy, small-town teenager really got a taste of seeing U2 live. I’m excited for all of those who will get to see U2 live in some really amazing places starting next month on the Joshua Tree tour 2019.

Inside Llewyn Davis

Poster by Ignacio RC

Inside Llewyn Davis tells the story of a down-on-his-luck, ne'er-do-well folk musician, Llewyn Davis (played by Oscar Isaac) in Greenwich Village in New York City in 1961. Quickly you get to know his routine: play music, scrounge to make a living, sleep on friend's couches, and all with a bad attitude. But maybe this isn't how he always was. He was part of a duo, and you get the feeling Llewyn Davis was the less-personable half of the act. His partner's gone, from the band and from this world. Llewyn is still in mourning. Late in the film a music promoter tells him he's no good as a frontman or a solo act, "My advice: get back together." "That's great advice," Llewyn answers.

This film is not one of redemption or hope, though those things are there. It's a story of struggling and survival. But just surviving is not what Llewyn Davis is interested in. When stopping by his sister's place - in her decidedly non-Bohemian little suburb home, she suggests he quit music, which he seems to be failing at, and go back to being a sailor, like their father. "And what, just exist?" he asks. And so he tells us, music is what gives life its flavor, like the starving poet who doesn't take a real job so that he can experience suffering, thereby enriching his poetry, but always hoping for a hit to make it big.

And music is where the flavor of Inside Llewyn Davis lies. It's what keeps you watching and hoping for a main character that is kind of a jerk to everyone around him and knows it. The songs here, performed by Isaac, Marcus Mumford of Mumford & Sons (singing the part of the deceased partner, Mike), Justin Timberlake, and a host of others, all overseen by the legendary T Bone Burnett, are, of course, the heart of the movie. The famous Gaslight Cafe figures prominently, with its smoking patrons listening to everything from young buskers with guitars to grandmothers from Oklahoma with their autoharps. And when Llewyn Davis is playing songs, that's when you see his heart right out there. Great music can make life bearable where otherwise it seems impossible to endure.

And that partly explains Llewyn's bad mood: his music is who he is, and it is rejected, at least at the level of being able to provide for himself. The world doesn't seem to have a place for him in music besides a loaned couch for a couple of days. He and his partner had a record which didn't sell. Llewyn has his own solo record, which hasn't sold. He meets another hopeful young folk singer, Al Cody (played by Adam Driver) at a recording session. While crashing on Cody's couch, Llewyn goes to stuff his unbought records under the end table, only to find a similar box with dozens of copies of Cody's own unsold solo album. He sees his future and his past. Llewyn writes it off as "careerist" when a pair of friends, another musician (Justin Timberlake) and his wife (Carey Mulligan) aspire to use music to settle down with a home and a family. Llewyn Davis, you see, is a pure artist. All the way down to living in the gutter.

And that brings us to his personal life and the damage he's caused. He's got a regular relationship with a doctor that will perform abortions, including one for his friend's girl. He may have a kid in Akron, Ohio, and his relationship with his dad is... strained. Llewyn doesn't really connect with others accept through his music, and even when he considers giving that up, he can't find a way out.

And then there's the cat(s). The cat is like a cipher for the film. Is it his lost partner? Himself, always wanting to get out, even from a comfortable situation? Lost, mistaken, and left for dead? Does he have 9 lives? Is it a living burden that he can't just seem to let go of? His eventual redemption? There is a long It could stand for a lot of things but may not stand for any of them.

Currently available on Amazon Prime. Rated R for language. Watched on VidAngel to edit language.

This Is Not A Film

Jafar Panahi, the Iranian director, is a guy who can't stop making films. He's been finding ways to create them while under house arrest in Iran after his last film was not approved since around 2010. And so he finds a way to make it happen, to reflect on film and what it means to him. This Is Not A Film (2011) follows him through a day in his home discussing his appeal case and hanging out with another filmmaker, reflecting on the situation he's in. It was filmed entirely in his home and, the legend has it, smuggled out in a cake before eventually being submitted to the Cannes Film Festival.

I'll be honest, I haven't seen any of his pre-ban films, though I have them on my criterion channel watchlist. The story behind his recent films is just so compelling that they are what drew me in. Taxi (2015) was the first I saw and it follows him driving a taxi around Tehran in a period when he's allowed out of his house but still banned from officially making movies or leaving a country. This is what man trying to be honest can do from within his own home. I think this one actually makes a great double feature with Jim Jarmusch's Paterson, as they both are very meditative reflections of art through the story of one man's simple day-to-day experience.

There's something so beautiful that slowly builds here, as we observe Panahi and how he speaks about life through the language of film. Early on he decides to try and describe last film he couldn't make as he would've made it. After painting the opening scene he stops, coming to the realization that "You have to make the film first, to be able to describe it." The film is not the plan of the film but the end result of the alchemy, struggle. and spontaneity that comes out of the process. He turns to scenes from previous films he's made to describe examples, and we watch these, though only as captured by the camera filming his TV screen, and they becomes reveries or like dream sequences within this film.

Visually, at first you just notice the lack of any real cinematography. He has a handheld camera and an iphone. After we as the audience become accustomed to this as a baseline, we realize he is able to capture some beautifully spontaneous angles and moments. These may not be objectively cinematic, but they become so through the context, both of what we are given in the film and through the situation Panahi is in and what we can sense of his feelings.

It makes strong and subversive statements, while balancing both acceptance and frustration at the same time. He doesn't comment directly on the government at any point - that would be bound to get him in more trouble - but he lets it speak for itself. It is New Year's night and the city is alive with light and sound for Fireworks Wednesday, a cultural tradition we learn is condemned by leadership as unreligious from the newscasts we pick up on the TV. Panahi surfs the internet to find some basic information and every page is either highly censored or completely blocked. Daily life of comings and goings is relatable as it is for most humans -- he feeds his pet, he makes tea, friends and neighbors come and ask for this or that -- but there are these cracks that help to outline the greater freedoms that exist in many other places throughout the world.

A Man For All Seasons

I found this 1967 Best Picture winner a stirring film. It is a costume drama set in 16th century England that is very serious indeed. But it is not stuffy even as it is in earnest. It is about something we all aspire to be: a person being true to himself and what he believes. It is inspiring to see a man hold firm to his principles in a world where so many are saying “Why? What does it matter? It’s just a little oath.” But he will not. In this day and age I find it extremely refreshing.

We see our main subject, Sir Thomas Moore, at the start of the film receiving a royal notice from among the highest of offices in the country. The cardinal of England sends a message which we follow to Moore's estate. Moore has a vibrant household, his own court, a loving wife and doting daughter, a great house and servants. He is a man of means and influence and is also a man of great faith. He gathers his wife and daughter for prayer before he heeds the call to the cardinal to discuss the future of England.

There is a supplicating young man, Sir Rich, anxious to serve in his court but Moore sees him as too eager and offers him the advice to become a teacher instead. He warns him to turn away from the pursuit of money, notoriety, and influence. Rich (aptly named) is confused at this advice. Later when confronted with the choice to work for Moore's rival, a corrupt clerk of the church, he almost follows this advice. but bitterness gets the best of him, and the attraction of power and money. Rich threatens his lack of loyalty. Moore knew this all along and turns him away despite the threat.

The setup is this: King Hentry VIII is married to Catherine, his brother's widow, who is barren and therefore there is no heir to the dynasty. Henry is having an affair with Anne Bolyn and wants to divorce his wife to marry her, which is against the teachings of the church. Having already gotten special dispensation from the pope to marry Catherine, Henry needs someone like Thomas, a trusted and faithful believer, to stand on his side in seeking the divorce. Moore, always careful never to declare any statement against the king and the proposition, will not provide his support, even when the king names him Chancellor to England specifically for that purpose.

Moore is one of those guys that you say you want when you would prefer a leader who doesn’t want to lead. He warns against power, bribery, and corruption. He is careful with is tongue, always speaking facts and letting others come to their own conclusions. He is loved and trusted. He is the one man the king seeks approval from and the one man in the country who will not give it. Even when an oath is required to support King Henry as head of the new Church of England, at risk of being named a traitor.

Visually, the film puts Thomas Moore and his old friend Rich on inverse paths. As Thomas's position is lessened which each new appeal that he acquiesce, his home becomes threadbare, servantless, and then he winds up in prison, each cell getting more dark and dank. And he is anxious for his family, but at peace with himself. On the contrary, each time we see Rich he has a nicer coat and a bit more power, and is always looking nervously over his shoulder for the next command from the clerk to find something to sully Moore's name to the public.

The great climax is just like Peter testifying before Rome when Moore is brought before a trial at the highest court of the land. He performs admirably - he was trained as a lawyer, after all - defending himself against the baseless accusations. He declares that Truth is not changed by the vote of the people or the decree of a king. Rich is brought in and we see the contrast between two men - one who held his word and his faith as a part himself, and the other that let it go at every offer.

Malcom X

As I started watching Spike Lee’s 1992 biographical film Malcolm X on TCM this week I recalled that I once wrote a paper on Malcom X at a fairly young age in school—could’ve been elementary school, could’ve been middle school. The only thing I remembered was that I did the paper and little else besides that he was a civil rights thought leader and that the general impression I got was that he was a bit militant. In this case my ignorance made the film more compelling as Lee’s film quickly pulled me in and blew away any expectations I had.

The key to this film, for me, was the intensity in which Malcolm approaches each period of his life. Starting as a cocksure criminal, to his full-bore prison humbling and conversion, to his staunch and righteous leadership among his Muslim brotherhood, it is in the final stage of his life that the intensity starts to settle and transform to acceptance, openness, and humility. Each stage portrayed is built on a foundation carefully laid by Lee and his co-writer Arnold Perl. It provides the audience an understanding of Malcom’s character development, showcasing his strengths but not shying away from his blindspots.

Even knowing a few overarching details about his life, each change in his character, including and especially how he started his adulthood as a hustler, is a surprise. In each era of his journey he runs up against a wall and is willing to completely throw away his old self in order to adapt a system that makes more sense than the last. In the first, his street life is a reaction to the trauma of his younger years. He learns to just focus on himself. He is skilled and can get lots of women, alcohol, and drugs. Then in prison he abandons that by adapting a worldview that tells him how the world has been conspiring against him and his brothers who he must build up through the teachings of a great and admirable man. Finally, he sees the flaw in following man at all, and for abandoning that for a higher center of focus, he is rejected by his own people and slain.

It’s powerfully told with some stylistic flares from early-90’s Spike Lee that bring you to the edge of your seat where other biographical epics of this scale would induce a yawn. These include low-angled, tilted ultra close-ups; vibrant long-shots highlighting Harlem and other settings; remix of archival footage; the opening intro and closing coda; and flashes of visceral, mind’s eye, psychological imagery, not to mention time period juxtaposition, like the flashback shot of him and his father both with their guns in hand protecting their families and fleeing their burning homes. At the same time, Lee also gets all the majestic, grandstanding, autobiographical mainstays just right, i.e. rousing speeches, dramatic touch points, and accompanying symphonic score. The shifts in tone are at times fluid, at times abrupt, but never off-key.

I think the most beautiful sequence is Malcom’s pilgrimage to Mecca and subsequent evolution. To see this great man continue to grow and evolve into a constantly better version of himself is an inspiring example. There were views expressed through the film which I couldn't reconcile with my own thoughts and what the film itself seemed to be saying and I was drawn to keep watching to try and understand. They often made sense from Malcom’s life experience at the time but many were controversial even to other African Americans. But the film didn’t shy away from these, nor did it really denounce any, and this brought his character into clearer view by the end of his life. As he dies he is still a man in a point of transition.

Regarding the acting, Denzel is one of our greatest actors of our time and here proves that over and over again. In so many roles, he plies the audience with a charm that can turn on a dime from being endearing and playful to powerfully striking and serious. You lose him in the character more and more as the film progresses. Looking back at the Oscars for 1993, although I haven't seen all the performances nominated for best actor, his is one of two still considered today and certainly the most remembered. It seems a mistake in hindsight to not have given the statue to him.

The last thing I’ll mention is the power of Angela Bassett and the portrayal of Betty & Malcom’s romance. She is powerful, sweet, and loyal. While they did take a couple of liberties in aspects of their home life, his widow served as a consultant on the film. You can feel the heat of their love, based in their love of God, and it is an anchor.

Although the film is quite long at three and a quarter hours, it is compelling and a rewarding watch. It's rated PG-13 for language and would be a great civics lesson for any teenager.

Little Women (2019)

What a beautifully crafted film. As the fifth big-screen adaptation of this classic story by Louisa May Alcott, Greta Gerwig's version, which she both wrote and directed, had quite a challenge before it. This story is a touchstone that each generation takes on as a beloved story, time and time again, each instance reflecting evolving values. I've never read the book and only seen the 1994 version with Winona Ryder. Gerwig's version is one that most definitely is representative of the values of 2019.

About 15 minutes into the film my wife leaned over to me and said, "This is already a better version of the story." She's a fan of the book that always disliked the ending. Alcott originally wrote it as a serial, as you may know, and so that ending was not planned from the beginning. Despite that, it was a cultural smash and bestseller, primarily for telling the side of the story that was never reflected in popular writing before, namely the passions and struggles of domestic life of girls and women.

Gerwig's innovation is splitting the telling of the story between the two time periods - childhood and adulthood - jumping back and forth between them while moving forward in each storyline. This has caused some small confusion for some, but just pay attention to the light: the childhood segments are all bathed in a warm, unmistakable golden glow, while the adult era is cold and blue. By using the time periods this way she reveals a key choice that our protagonist, Jo March, makes which normally isn't revealed until halfway through the story. Here, we know what happens and the key question becomes why. Rather than focus on what choice she's going to make and how it affects her marital status, this format asks, by the end of the film, who has she become.

Because it is about four sisters, the story is known for telling the struggle of women in this period of history, and that aspect is certainly prominent in this telling. Adult Amy's speech to Laurie in Paris points out that women are beholden to men, giving a direct description of how ownership of money and even children is prioritized for their husbands. The struggles the March women face is in large part due to not having a man in the house for much for their childhood while the father is off to war. Ever present is the opportunity that marriage plays in their search for meaning and prosperity. For many it is a trade-off between love and security. "Don't tell me marriage isn't an economic proposition," Amy assertively declares.

Deeper than the struggle of women, though, there is a question of seeking dignity that is even more universal. We all seek for meaning in our lives. And one thing I love so much about this telling of the story is that even though the choice that each March woman ends up making is different, they can find dignity and love in their respective situations. There is a wisdom in moving past what you had thought or assumed was what you wanted, especially when that option is taken away from you by someone else. You can learn to live with that and find even deeper and more fulfilling opportunities that you hadn't expected. This plays out in each storyline but is especially at the heart of Jo's.

The craft in filmmaking is strong here and Gerwig puts a powerful team together. Learning about how the Oscar winning Costume Designer used color and clothing to tell the story, assigning color to each sister and the trading of vests between Jo & Laurie, is revealing. The cinematography captures this era beautifully with just enough diversity of settings and angles to go beyond your traditional costume drama cliches. Instead it uses the setting and visuals to add emotional depth to the story. The visual poetry between the two time periods around a setting like the beach or a visual piece like a piano is used all over the film. Every actor adds something unique and tells a different side of this story of dignity.

And again to the writing. I think to bring such life and to rethink a classic in this way should've gotten Gerwig an Adapted Screenplay Oscar, as much as I loved Jojo Rabbit. Some lines you will hear and assume they were one of the modern additions, only to find that they were pulled directly from the book. Other lives you might think you remember reading that in the book but will find it was an addition by Gerwig or an improvisation by an actor.

The Best Years Of Our Lives

The Best Years Of Our Lives (1946) is one of the most lauded American films you've never heard of. It won Best Picture at the 1947 Oscars. It is on the AFI top 100 films list. It was the top box office film of its time since Gone With The Wind. It was a cultural smash but not one that's seen as much today.  Previously not on any streaming platform, it is a hard film to find and I was lucky to see it on the Criterion Channel and watch it this week. As one of the most realistic films from this era, it follows three veterans coming home from World War II to fictional Boone City. We meet them on their journey home where there is a shorthand that comes between people who have been through the same trying experiences. We follow them through their reintroduction into normal society. The film's gaze is steady with long takes lingering on the full experience of these soldiers and their family, showing us the unique nature of people trying to restart their lives amidst many complications and it is so relatable to today.

The first story follows Homer, a vet who lost both of his hands and is returning home to his promised girl and his family. He has hooks on the ends of both arms now and can adroitly use them for almost any task including lighting cigarettes and cleaning and shooting his gun. He has difficulty dealing with how others struggle to know how to act around him. He's played by a veteran that faced the same situation and who won two Oscars for this role. He's compelling in his emotional ups and downs as he manages his own expectations with those of others and can't seem to face opening up.

Another story follow Al, a wealthy banker returning to his wife, his adult daughter Peggy and his son. Peggy and her mother are great characters with patience to step in and roll with the punches of Al's awkwardness, even as some of his behavior, like his drinking, is a little troubling. Those actresses, Myrna Loy and Theresa Wright, give my two favorite performances here. They add a great dynamic on screen, communicating the reality of what the citizens at home went through and how they adapted during the war. Those that stayed home are very much a part of this story as they have to learn to adjust to their returning loved ones. Indeed, there are examples of both citizens and veterans in dealing with their struggles in positive and negative ways.

The final veteran is Fred Darry, whose family lives under the tracks in a poor part of town. His wife has moved into her own apartment and created a life working at a club and enjoying the nightlife. They barely knew each other before, having gotten married less than two weeks before he went off to war, and have to get reacquainted now. She doesn't understand why he doesn't want to wear his uniform out on the town and he seems oblivious to her many male acquaintances. Fred gets entangled with Peggy, Al's daughter. The instant connection and unrequited love between Peggy and Fred is one of the great loves on film. Their connection was immediate and electric and troubled by his existing marriage and their dedication to propriety.



The Best Years of Our Lives depicts the great classic American hometown while at the same time the real cracks in the pavement that the servicemen face when coming home to a world that may not be quite ready for them, and them for it. Whether its a moral conundrum at work, a penchant to resort to a drink when things are hard, self-doubt, PTSD (before it was a thing people knew about), being in over your head and facing complications in love, all of these characters are experiencing problems that still happen every day.

The solutions for these problems don't always work themselves out easily, and yet it is a film with a lot of hope. The biggest surprise of this film to me was how honest communication and openness are what lead to learning and growth in every case. As the characters avoid talking and addressing their problems they get worse but as they confront them in difficult conversations and circumstances, they are able to take steps forward. I loved the value it placed on turning to others and sharing your issues rather than hiding them. At the time this was a bit of a radical idea, and one that could've been really instrumental to people that were struggling with these issues and saw themselves in the characters on the screen. It certainly did some of that for me.