I recently discovered that there was a sequel to Eddie and the Cruisers called Eddie Lives! I was so excited by the prospect of seeing Michael Pare again that I went straight to Netflix. Lo and behold... they include BOTH movies on one disc! How exciting is that? We could get a recap of the first great film, before moving on to the next gem. The first film has a great cast: the beautiful and brooding Mr. Pare, Tom Berenger, Ellen Barkin, and Joe Pantoliano (Joey Pants) and an even better soundtrack. I don't care that some people say that John Cafferty is just a Springsteen rip-off. These are amazing songs. Wild Summer Nights and Tender Years get me every time. Sometimes I even get a little teary-eyed when I hearTender Years.
We're halfway through the first movie when Brian says, "I thought this had Diane Lane in it."
Nope. That's Streets of Fire. Also with Michael Pare, who doesn't "sing" in it. And Willem Dafoe as the bad biker guy that kidnaps Diane Lane. Kind of confusing since they're both musical movies, and Berenger & Dafoe were in Platoon together. Oh well...sorry.
We move on to Eddie Lives!, which is pretty terrible. None of the stars, except for Michael, is in it. I wish I hadn't found out about this sequel, but it's too late. MIchael goes through most of the film with bad hair and a 70s porn star moustache, until the very end...when he rediscovers his hotness. This is NOT enough to redeem the movie.
The next night is all about the testosterone (maybe a little penance for the Eddie movies) and, we see The Expendables. Now I have been excited to see this ever since I saw the trailer a while back. It has just about every kickass action star from the past twenty or so years. And Jason Statham, baby. I see just about any movie with him in it. The movie is as expected. Lots of violence and gore. A few in-jokes. The much anticipated scene (and there's only one) with Sly, Arnold, and Bruce is very short and borderline campy. However, I did not get my money's worth. Jason Statham does not take off his shirt, which is a huge disappointment. Nothing against Stallone, who is very ripped at 64, but I came to see Jason's abs. The macho guys could've thrown us girls a bone. Gee...
Side note: I just read a completely unrelated book today that mentioned a line from Rambo where the love interest says, "You not expendable, Rambo." Is The Expendables' title just a self-referential SLY wink? ah-hah!
Thursday was the exciting and horrible night. We had third row seats to see the Swell Season with our friends Drew and Christine. Brian and I have loved this band, ever since we saw the charming Irish film, Once. (If you haven't seen this, rent it!) We saw them live in SF a couple of years ago, and they are even better live. Glen Hansard is an AMAZING singer/musician/songwriter who tells funny and poignant stories in between songs. I have a little crush on him too. (He's a redhead.) We're listening to the opening act, Black Francis (Frank Black of the Pixies), and Brian nudges me to look to the right. Glen Hansard is sitting in the front row, not too far from us! I can't believe it. He's just sitting there with a wool cap on his head, enjoying the show. The people sitting next to him don't even notice that it's him. The guy (whose seat Glen's occupying) asks him to scoot down without showing any recognition. It's inconceivable. Finally, a guy comes down and shakes Glen's hand. That does it for me. I open my triple-disc set that I just bought for my sis-in-law (but really for myself, so I could see the concert dvd) and walk right over to Glen Hansard.
I very brazenly but politely ask him to autograph my cd with my own pen. I came prepared. He smiled and signed it. I gushed how much I love his music. He thanked me, and I thanked him. Then we shook hands. Hooray! After this, some other girl tried to get a photo with him, but security whisked her away. It's good to be me.
Black Francis finishes his set, and he's really good. I decide to buy some more Pixies' tunes when we get home. Then Glen and Marketa come out and start rocking out to Cactus, (which is a Pixies' song) and adding their own lyrics. Glen says they asked Frank not to sing it, so they can. But he's just joking. Then they sing, Low Rising, which I predicted that they would open with. I think it's a very sexy, soulful song. Apparently, Glen must know this too, because he playfully starts singing, Sexual Healing, which brings the house down. It's a beautiful night at the Mountain Winery Amphitheatre, and everyone is having a great time. The Frames (Glen's other band) are playing with them. I love that they're a rock band with a violinist. Colm plays a beautiful Irish song on the violin while the rest of the band takes a break. They return and do a rousing version of When Your Mind's Made Up. The crowd is pumped up afterwards, and some guy yells, "Fuck yeah!" which Glen thinks is hilarious and yells it back. So in the rock and roll spirit that's going around, he leads everyone in a sing-along of a funny song the guitarist wrote.
Everyone is still cheering and clapping, when all of a sudden we see a dark silhouette of a human fall from above and crash to the stage near Glen. There is confusion about what's happened, until Glen walks over and a horrified expression comes over his face. The place goes quiet, and people start screaming for a doctor. The man had jumped from the roof of the three-story stone building behind the stage. They administered CPR for what seemed like an eternity, but they were unable to save him. Everyone was asked to stay seated so the paramedics could get to the stage. People were stunned, quietly crying, and trying to comfort each other. Some had brought their kids and were trying to shield them from it all. It was awful.
We weren't allowed to leave until very late. We have been in a surreal daze ever since. Brian hasn't been sleeping well, sleepwalking and waking in the night, not going back to sleep. I have trouble falling asleep and stay up too late, reading and keeping my mind off things. We saw Drew and Christine the next night. We had all been reading info on the web. The man that committed suicide had come to the concert with a friend. The friend had no inkling that anything was wrong.
We ended up watching Hot Tub Time Machine, which was our mindless and silly antidote to what we were all feeling. It is a raunchy version of Back to the Future. It even has Crispin Glover. Chevy Chase is kind of the Christopher Lloyd character. I wonder how John Cusack went from Grace is Gone to War, Inc. to Hot Tub. There's a scene where he asks, "What did I do in the 80s?" I kept expecting (and hoping) that he would hold up a boombox to get the girl. Kind of like how they show a photo of Courtney Cox dancing with Bruce Springsteen in her her high school yearbook on her show, Cougar Town. (surprisingly funny show; terrible title. They're thinking of changing the name. Thank goodness.) I guess John Cusack is tired of forever being Lloyd Dobler. But isn't that why we watch him? That's pretty much all you need to know about Hot Tub. It was just what we needed Fri night, but watch at your own risk.
The new season of Dexter was at the top of our queue, but it didn't feel right to watch it so soon. So I told Brian to pick something else, something happy. Then suddenly, I had an inspired idea. I ran down the stairs and said, "I got it! Streets of Fire!"
Brian replied, "I was already typing it in before you said it. I was going to surprise you." Now that's love and synchronicity.
May the man from the concert rest in peace.
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