Rod Stewart was a better singer than Mick Jagger—and at least as good a bottom-wiggler—but the Faces were always a poor boy's Stones, and this DVD can't rewrite history. Cheaply produced with ugly thumbnail factoids running below it, the fragmentary live footage intermittently captures the band's rootsy swagger but also reminds one of what an old tart Rodney could be. Singing "I'd Rather Go Blind" in a gold jumpsuit, he could be Freddie Mercury.
Mira Sorvino and Mariah Carey as waitresses who get mixed up with Italian mobsters? Surely one for the all-time turkey hall of infamy? Surprisingly, it's perfectly watchable—Sorvino's always been a decent actress, and Carey, believe it or not, swears like a potty-mouthed trooper and almost outshines her bosom. And doesn't sing. OK, it's no GoodFellas, but what is?
The ever-eccentric Richman continues his idiosyncratic musical odyssey. Recorded live in San Francisco in 2002, Take Me To The Plaza mostly comprises material from his last album, Her Mystery Not Of High Heels. Performing just with guitar and drums (something he was doing way before The White Stripes) his timing and wit are immaculate. But there's only "Pablo Picasso" (recently covered by Bowie) and "Girlfriend" from the old days.
You'll never eat frogs' legs again. This darkly witty 2D animation feature is full of cute moments and haunting images, if perhaps not the life-altering classic it's been hailed as in some quarters. The rotund Madame Souza buys her shy grandson Champion a bicycle, and years later, after much strictly regimented training, he's competing with the best. Then, in a fit of surrealism, he's kidnapped by shadowy men in black. Granny and faithful canine Bruno defy all logic to cross oceans and metropolises to rescue him.
The latest of several Bob Marley documentaries on the market contains little footage of the man himself. But Spiritual Journey makes up for it with revealing interviews from the likes of son Ziggy and former Jamaican premier Michael Manley, and such fascinating archive material as BBC2's Newsnight report on Marley's funeral in 1981. The result is a thoughtful film that intelligently explains just how and why he became the Third World's first genuine superstar.
Originally a TV mini series, this is a satisfying, three-hour adaptation of Larry McMurty's offbeat and poignant take on Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickok. A strong cast (Anjelica Houston, Sam Elliott, Peter Coyote) get blown off the screen by Jack Palance as a grizzled, dusty old trapper.
Name-checked by everyone from Thurston Moore to The Strokes, US indie rock icons Guided By Voices espouse an ethic so heroically DIY it borders on the professionally suicidal. Watch Me Jumpstart profiles their idiosyncratic career, via Banks Tarver's charming, lo-fi documentary, extensive live footage and an engaging selection of the band's videos to date.
Quirky variant on the Frankenstein riff. Klaus Kinski is a scientist working on a space station with his android assistant Max404 (Don Opper, who co-wrote). Max is going through android adolescence—he's restless, sulky, curious about sex. Then a trio of escaped convicts invade, and one of them's a girl. Funny and compelling, and worth catching for Opper's geeky performance alone.
