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Men: good excuses to review films
By MARCY BASILE
Movie Reviewer
Everybody has made up an excuse to go to a
movie that critics just gagged over. The “I don’t
want to be a slave to the television” bit went over
good for awhile until “I had my last test for the
week today and it’s only Monday so I’m going to a
movie to rub it in your face” came into vogue.
OK. Fine. I’ll accept those reasons, even if they
are all bunk. Being the female I am, though, I tend
to lean toward the more asthetic things in life —
good looking males. Men are some of the best rea
sons for spending lots of money on celluloid thrills.
Of all the men available for veiwing pleasures
Nicholas, Matthew and Mel seem to be the most
prevelant (not to mention my favs). And for good
reason. Not only are they gorgeous, they can act,
too. (Isn’t it a shame that most of the good-looking
women in movies can’t act? Aww. The poor ba
bies.)
Nicholas Cage (be still my beating heart) was the
punk dude in “Valley Girl,” Richard Gere’s schizo
brother in “Cotton Club” and, most recently, Mat
thew Modine’s wartime/peacetime buddy in “Bir-
dy.” Except for “Valley Girls” Cage’s movies have
been critically acclaimed. (I, myself, thoroughly
enjoyed watching “Valley Girls” on cable tonight.)
The first time I saw Cage was in “Cotton Club.” To
make a long story short, it was immediate lust. His
doe eyes might have had something to do with
that, but then again, the rest of him is pretty nice,
too. He’s also a good all-around actor. He can go
from the bizarre as in “Valley Girls,” ease into the
brutality of the “Cotton Club” and finish with im
pact in “Birdy’ and still make me drool. The man
must have talent. (Definite wall material, if I could
only find a picture.)
Second on my list of wonderful people is Mat
thew Modine. Granted, he’s not the best looking
guy in the world but he could eat crackers in my
bed any time he wants. Modine proves the old ad
age “don’t judge a book by its cover.” He flows on
the screen; perhaps that’s why he’s in three current
releases. Modine plays leading characters in three
current movies: “Birdy,” “Mrs. Soffel” and “Vision
Quest.” In “Birdy” he portrays a Vietnam vet who
spazzes and becomes the bird he always wanted to
be. Cage is his buddy who struggles to free Birdy of
his mental cage. (Two. Two. Two guys in one.) “Vi
sion Quest” has him out on a crusade against the
bad guy — a huge wrestler who can barely hold up
his own ego while in “Mrs. Soffel” he breaks out of
jail with his brother (played by Mel) only to get
shot to pieces. Not a fun way to spend a Saturday.
(Getting shot to pieces I mean.)
Then there’s Mel “Oh, Baby” Gibson, the man
with the glowing blue eyes. Not only that, he’s from
Austrailia. What else could a girl ask for? The star
of all the Mad Max movies first ventured into my
life when I walked into “The Bounty” late and he
was cavorting around in the water with some na
tive woman. Needless to say, I was rendered mute.
A friend of mine was noticeably affected by his ev
ery close-up apperance in “Mrs. Soffel.” too bad
he’s married and the father of a brood or I’d sacri
fice everything. Oh, yeah, he can act, too.
Yes, I’m glad that guy watching is now in vogue.
After all, they decorate the world with their ability
to wear Calvin Klein underwear while leaning
against big rocks. I appreciate the fact that I’ll
probably never find out what color Nicholas Cage’s
hair really is. But, for now, I’m content with know
ing that anytime I need a fix, I can just pull out the
old movie passes and use the old excuse “I went be
cause I heard it was a good movie.” \
Music
By WALTER SMITH
Music Reviewer
Diverse audience appeal is
the main thrust of “Zoolook,”
the newest release from elec
tronics veteran Jean-Michael
Jarre. He creates sounds by
electronically processing the
human speech and song of 25
languages, ranging from Es
kimo to Pigmy. Even the liner
notes are in nine different lan
guages.
But the musical style of each
song differs as much as the
language of its “lyrics.” The ti
tle track is a funk-driven
rhythm track while “Wooloo-
mooloo” is a noisy industrial-
sounding piece, overlayed with
the static and fuzz of high
technology.
“Ethnicolor” opens the re
cord slowly, but it gradually
builds into a feverish electro
chant. “Ethnicolor 11” closes
the album with the sounds of
crowds milling about and
melding into a confusing blend
of cultures. These two cuts
should appease long-time fans
ofjarre.
But he doesn’t ignore his
newer, more pop-oriented lis-
JEAN-MICHEL JARRE
ZOOLOOK
DISQUES DREYFUS
teners. “Zoolookologie” con
tains all necessaiy ingredients
(i.e. over-dubs, scratches, etc.)
to become a dance-floor hit.
“Blah-Blah Cafe” sounds like
you’re at a cocktail party where
the Art of Noise just met up Or
chestral Manouvres in the
Dark. Both are interesting
tunes, but they certainly are a
departure for Jarre.
Jarre isn’t alone in this en
deavor. Other notables include
Laurie Anderson (of “O Super
man” fame), whose distinctive
voice graces “Diva,” and
Adrian Belew, who delivers his
extraordinary guitar effects on
several songs. Marcus Miller
canys the bass line on the in
ventive album.
“Zoolook” is bold undertak
ing to say the least. I mean,
how many records require a
consulting ethnologist?
“In the Long Grass,” the new
album of The Boomtown Rats,
is just one of many things keep
ing lead singer Bob Geldof busy
these days. Anyone who hap
pened to listen to the radio
during the recent holiday sea
son was certainly bombarded
with Band Aid’s famine-relief
song, a project which Geldof
masterminded and partially
funded.
Others, of the mainstream-
rock category, might recognize
him from his leading role in
the movie, “Pink Floyd.” Yeah,
he’s the one that shaves off his
eyebrows in “Pycho”-ish
shower scene.
With five albums already to
their name, one would expect
THE BOOMTOWN RATS
IN THE LONG GRASS
MERCURY RECORDS
the Boomtown Rats to be a
name tumbling from every
one’s mouth. However, they
only have been blessed with
moderate recognition, perhaps
due to recent flounderings in
direction (i.e. the confused and
confusing “Mondo Bongo” and
“Five Deep” LPs).
“In the Long Grass” shows
the world they have regained
their musical footing and re
fined their talents into some
thing a little accessible to lis
teners. They haven’t, however,
sold out in any sense of the
phrase. This album falls into
the natural progression of a
group trying to make it in to
day’s music scene.
The beginnings and endings
of songs always have been their
forte, whether it’s an a capella
introduction or a majestically
orchestrated finale, and this re
cord holds no exceptions. They
opt for a pulsating keyboard
and powerful percussion sound
in “All of Me,” a song exalting
the undying human spirit. “Da
ve” is a touching number that
talks a close buddy out of sui
cide.
Their heavy use of horns in
some songs, like “Over Again,”
conjures shades of Herb Alpert.
In “Another Sad Story,” the
wailing saxophone drives home
the misfortune of misspent
youth.
A line in “Hard Times” sums
up the meaning and intent of
the “In the Long Grass” LP by
stating that “...the only act of
revolution left in a collective
world is thinking for yourself.