When Jack Malik wakes up from head trauma to discover nobody else remembers The Beatles he runs to his record collection to double check whether the band ever existed. Flipping through vinyl albums, he starts yanking out records in the “B” section. One of the albums that falls to the floor is a David Bowie LP.
This moment solidifies the sheer, shitty laziness of Yesterday when it comes to its central conceit. The idea that hundreds of people got together to make a movie that centers on the question of “what if the Beatles never existed” and yet they allowed a Bowie record – out of all the artists they could have referenced here – to be in the movie shows how little they care.
Continue reading “I Don’t Believe In YESTERDAY”
We used to have record albums (the old man yelled at the cloud). LPs, they were called, for long play. When bands made LPs they did something called sequencing, which was putting their songs in a specific order intended to bring the listener for a journey. You weren’t supposed to skip around the LP, and there was no way to shuffle the songs, so you would drop the needle at the beginning and listen through until the end. It feels archaic today, the idea of sitting down and listening to an album in full (and getting up to flip it over in the middle!), so archaic that it has become retrohip, and even Hot Topic sells vinyl LPs. But I think that with the heyday of the LP and the heyday of albums behind us, we have also lost the heyday of sequencing.
Good sequencing would build over the course of an album side, getting up to a crescendo of intensity and pace, and then perhaps pulling it back for a sonic palate cleanser. Think about Rubber Soul, by The Beatles (UK version) – side one ends with Michelle, with its French cabaret feel, and side two opens with a blast of zany country as Ringo sings What Goes On. That creates the space needed for the band to go in a totally different direction with Girl, which has a Greek folk sound. By putting the Ringo country song in between these two European love songs The Beatles create an experience for us that transcends the individual songs.
In 2018 Marvel Studios has accomplished a major feat of cinematic sequencing. Opening the year with Black Panther they got us revved up, excited, triumphant. Then came Avengers: Infinity War, which ends on one of the all-time down notes (for post-Beneath the Planet of the Apes blockbusters, anyway). But that isn’t the finale – the album isn’t over – and so they’ve wisely programmed Ant-Man and the Wasp right afterwards, giving us a small breather, a little bit of space before leaping back into the fray next year.
Continue reading “ANT-MAN AND THE WASP: Come On, Get Happy”