If It's Friday, This Must Be Catblogging
I'm all for whimsy, but somebody made an error in judgment with this album's title and cover art. The one reviewer agrees with me, using harsher words. Speaking of harsh reviews, David Edelstein at Slate has problems with Keanu Reeves' new movie Constantine:
Constantine, directed by MTV auteur Francis Lawrence from a screenplay (based on the Hellblazer comics) by Kevin Brodbin and Frank A. Cappello, is borderline incoherent, theologically unsatisfying, and short to the point of dwarfism on suspense. The central problem—our selfish hero must do one unselfish act to get into heaven—is not exactly Miltonic, either. But it's all just bloody and loopy and epic-scaled enough to be bearable. I liked Constantine's bowling-alley headquarters and the metaphysical nightclub where the bouncer holds up a card and you only get in if you can say what's on the other side. Tilda Swinton, as the angel Gabriel, seems to be doing a send-up of Emma Thompson in Angels in America. (At least, I hope she is.) And it's worth sticking around for the appearance of the certifiably strange Swede Peter Stormare as someone referred to as "Lou." He's like an Ingmar Bergman devil by way of Joel and Ethan Coen, a genuine hipster from hell.Edelstein makes the whole thing sound to me like cultural imperialism, a sifting through two millenia of Christian thought for the purpose of extracting just enough material to make some spooky visuals.
Umie the Umlaut says, "ask your doctor about the Fredösphere!"
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