Pages

Showing posts with label things are like other things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label things are like other things. Show all posts

Sunday, June 26, 2016

The Deep Legend of Purple Zelda

Discussed herein: the original Legend of Zelda, the band Deep Purple, the man responsible for what are arguably the two most famous compositions in video game music history, and open-ended questions about music law.

legend of zelda deep purple

Last week, a Los Angeles jury concluded that no, Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” did not plagiarize another song—or, at least, appropriate enough of that other song to constitute plagiarism and subsequent monetary compensation. Led Zeppelin got to continue living atop a towering pile of money that did not become a slightly-less-towering pile of money, and the 1960s band Spirit got a neat little footnote in its history when the estate of the band’s singer, Randy California, unsuccessfully tried to argue that a brief snippet from the intro to “Stairway to Heaven” sounded too much like Spirit’s 1968 song “Taurus.”

Neither being a member of that jury nor someone who claims to understand music on a constructional level, I can’t say whether that verdict was just. I can say, however, that to my ears, the two songs sound similar enough that it seems that the one could have helped bring about the other, regardless of whether anyone deserved money for that inspiration.

Listen for yourself. The “Stairway”-esque part of “Taurus” begins around the 44-second mark.



And here is “Stairway to Heaven,” just in case you’ve been living under a rock for the last forty years.



The plaintiff’s lawyers had claimed that because Spirit had played on the same bill as Led Zeppelin back in the day, it was plausible that members of the latter had heard “Taurus” and therefore used bits of it in writing “Stairway,” which was released in 1971. In my head, that seems like a fair enough argument, and I feel like people following the story in the news probably did too, especially in light of how the family of Marvin Gaye successfully sued Robin Thicke, to say nothing of similar squabbles making the news recently. (Tom Petty vs. Sam Smith comes to mind, even if it ended amicably, and now Ed Sheeran is being sued for alleged plagiarism as well.)

These kinds of stories stand out to me because I’m the kind of guy who frequently hears similarities between two songs that other people dismiss with “No, that’s just a common chord progression” or “No, that’s just a feature of this genre of music” or “No, you’re crazy.” For example, I think the old song “Smoke Rings” sounds remarkably like a downtempo version of the overworld theme from Super Mario Bros. 2.





I’m okay with accepting that the connection I’m making only exists in my head, but there’s this one similarity in particular that always jumps into mind when I read stories like these, because I think it’s a stronger connection to most: the Deep Purple track “April” and the dungeon theme from Legend of Zelda. And yes, there’s something slightly more thrilling to me about the prospect of a song working its way across the pop cultural continuum and ending up in a video game, at least in some form, years later.

“April” is the final track to Deep Purple’s third album, released in 1969. It’s a doozy. You probably know Deep Purple as the bad that performs “Smoke on the Water” or the hard rock version of that song from I Know What You Did Last Summer, but “April” is worth a listen too. It’s grand and orchestral, especially in its intro, and wouldn’t be out of place as the soundtrack to some medieval fantasy sequence, I say.



Or maybe that association comes from the apparent Legend of Zelda connection. At around the 2:00-mark in “April,” there’s a brief section that should sound familiar to anyone who played through the original Legend of Zelda for the NES. It’s the bit that concludes the game’s dungeon theme before the track loops back to the beginning. (That dungeon theme isn’t very long, and if you played through the game, you’d hear this section of music hundreds of times over.)

I made a video that lines the sections up side-by-side, in case that’s helpful.



Given my history of the playing “thing is like other thing” game, I’d be willing to write this similarity off as a random, meaningless one, but there’s slightly more to the story. Koji Kondo is the music whiz responsible for a lot of Nintendo’s most memorable compositions, including all the music for the original Legend of Zelda. What’s interesting about the Deep Purple connection is that Kondo himself has admitted to being a fan of the band. In a 2005 Nintendo Power interview, Kondo even said he once played in a band that frequently covered Deep Purple, so the odds that he would be familiar with “April” would be fairly high—at least as probable as Led Zeppelin having heard “Taurus.” Of course, in the end, the jury found that Zeppelin hadn’t stolen those guitar riffs—or at least that if they had, they weren’t substantial enough to warrant Zeppelin having to pay off anyone as a result.

I suppose, then, that I have to conclude this post on a note of confusion. I don’t understand how we can make a legal differentiation between homage, sample, legitimate borrowing, and lawsuit-worthy theft. (And yes, I have thought about how it’s notable that the multimillion-dollar exception to the rule would be a song titled “Blurred Lines.”) So I pose the question to anyone reading this who understands music or music law better than I do: Am I confused because these distinctions are better made by people who understand music on a fundamental level that I don’t? Or is it just that no one knows—and that every post-“Blurred Lines” lawsuit is gambling in favor of the odds of some judge or jury saying, “Yeah I hear it. Here, have a wheelbarrow full of money”? Is it weird that laypeople, musically speaking, would ever be given the opportunity to issue a verdict about something that seems like it should take inside knowledge of the music industry to understand?

Meanwhile, I keep “April” on my playlists in case I ever encounter a situation that needs to feel more epic. And every time I get two minutes in, I get to think about Legend of Zelda, whether or not it’s just a coincidence.

Miscellaneous notes:
  • Yes, this is was something I’ve written about on this blog before—eight years ago, in fact. I decided the Zeppelin lawsuit made the story timely enough for an update and expansion. I originally came across the info in the “cloubush” thread, which, eight years later, is still going strong.
  • There actually is a purple Zelda, literally. Her name is Hilda. She’s Zelda but purple. Go figure.
  • Koji Kondo composed the soundtracks for Super Mario Bros. and Legend of Zelda but not those for Metroid and Kid Icarus. He did, however, do the music for three early NES games that weren’t released in the U.S.—Mysterious Castle Murasame, Devil World and Shin Onigashima. Given how iconic the Zelda and Mario themes ended up becoming, we American gamers missed out.
  • Kondo also composed the music that ended up in Super Mario Bros. 2, and I wonder if the Deep Purple thing makes it anymore likely that he would have been inspired by “Smoke Rings” in creating that game’s soundtrack.
  • In 1970, Spirit released an album saddled with the improbable title Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus, and that’s one of those names that seems like a joke on The Simpsons.
  • Not that I nor anyone else actually needs to hear “Stairway to Heaven” again, but did you know that Dolly Parton does a cover of it? It’s actually not bad—not that Dolly is capable of bad things—and I wager she finds a layer to it that other cover-ers may not.
  • Spirit’s biggest commercial hit was 1968’s “I Got a Line of You,” which I’d heard before and which I’m surprised was done by the same band that did “Taurus.”


Video game music, previously:

Thursday, June 18, 2015

With “It” Being Heavy-Lidded Eyes Without Visible Pupils

Yesterday Madonna debuted the music video for her new single, “Bitch I’m Madonna.” The clip has a host of famous types — A- through C-listers — showing up for split-second cameos in which they lip synch the song’s title, which would be very confusing if this were the first Madoonna video you’d ever seen and you weren’t sure who she was. People have feelings about it. I’m not sure I do aside from the fact that the video features a chorus of sock puppets, and I think that undercuts the arguments of anyone claiming that Madonna’s trying too hard to look cool and edgy, because sock puppets — because sock puppets.


I had to write about it for work, which means I had to watch it, which means that I had to find a Tidal login, because Madonna only officially released the clip on Tidal because she’s trying to make the digital musical equivalent of fetch happen. However, I will say this much for the video: It has made me realize that with the right freeze-frame, with the right make-up and the right hair, Rita Ora can bear a remarkable resemblance to Janice from The Muppets


This is all I have for now. In closing, because sock puppets — because sock puppets forever.

Who Wore It Better? — previously:

Thursday, May 28, 2015

The Two Peyton Lists

If you’re like me and still smarting from the loss of Don Draper and company, then the name Peyton List probably calls to mind the actress who played Jane Siegel Sterling on Mad Men. Jane was the weird fusion of Joan and Betty who was briefly Don’s secretary before becoming Roger’s wife. However, if you’re too young for Mad Men or one of those adults who gets off on Disney sitcoms — and you are sick, you sicko — then the name Peyton list calls to mind an entirely different actress, who stars on the Disney Channel sitcom Jessie, which for all I know is about, like, four diverse kids who open a hotel so their band can perform songs or some garbage.

peyton list (left) and peyton list 
Regardless of which one is your primary reference for the name, you should probably know that there are two, just so you don’t read that Peyton List is starring in some new movie and then end up leaving the theater in huff when you find out that it was actually the other one, the one you find emphatically inferior.

To me, a Hollywood-adjacent Los Angeles person, this is very confusing. I was under the impression that the Screen Actors Guilt has strict rules about letting two working actors share the same name, hence why I learned as child to distinguish between Vanessa Williams and the arguably more famous but nonetheless initial-saddled Vanessa L. Williams, hence why Michael Keaton (née Michael Douglas) had to adopt a screen name. And the nearest I can find to anyone noticing this oddity online is this Access Hollywood article, the gist of which is “OMG, younger Peyton. Someone else has your name. Isn’t that ridonk?” and which dismisses the existence of two actresses with the same name with one sentence: “The acting union SAG-AFTRA makes every effort to discourage actors from using the same name but somehow this one slid through.”

The two Peyton Lists also create an awkward situation on Wikipedia, where they’re identified as “Peyton List (actress, born 1986)” and “Peyton List (actress, born 1998),” meaning that they both have their birth year crammed right into their URL and that the Mad Men actress, at only 28 years old, gets to be “old Peyton” literally for the rest of her career. And I don’t doubt for a second that either could end up at an audition only to have the casting director say, “Oh, I’m so sorry. We thought we were getting the other one.”

Not that I’m all that concerned for either, necessarily. No, this is just one of those pop culture mysteries in which something was allowed to happen that conflicts with my understanding of how Hollywood words, like how Law & Order: Los Angeles just didn’t work.

Miscellaneous notes:
  • In case you’re wondering what became of Old Peyton List, she’s currently playing a villain on The Flash and camping it up Julie Newmar-style opposite Wentworth Miller, who’s playing Captain Cold. I love her in this role and am hoping she sticks around.
  • You might think a CW superhero show is a step down for a Mad Men alumna. You might be right, but Old Peyton has decent genre cred: She was previously on The Tomorrow People and Flash Forward as well as having played Lucy Lane on Smallville.
  • Best of all, however, is the fact that on The Flash, she’s playing Captain Cold’s sister, who in the comics is a villain in her own right who wields a pair of magic ice skates that create their own ice, allowing her to skate anywhere. The magic ice skates will probably not appear on the show, but she has inherit the comic book supervillain name: Golden Glider.
  • Finally, there’s a weird Mad Men coincidence: Captain Cold’s real name is Leonard Snart, presumably because the word snart had no meaning when the character was created back in 1957. His sister’s name is Lisa, so that means Old Peyton plays a character named Lisa Snart, which I can barely speak out loud without laughing. Simultaneously, Mad Men January Jones, was appearing on The Last Man on Earth, playing a character named Melissa Shart, presumably because Will Forte knew exactly what that word means. Yep: Lisa Snart and Melissa Shart. Sometimes, the universe just gives you a gift.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

With “It” Being Hilariously Outdated Streetwalker Garb

This week, I had to watch Pretty Woman. I realize that I grew up in a generation of kids who watched this movie willingly and repeatedly, but I wasn’t allowed to, I’m guessing because my parents wanted to leave explanations about prostitution to the Bible. As a result of not having grown up with it, I kind of hate Pretty Woman. I think if you see it when you’re a kid, you just accept it as good. If you see it as a grown-up who has the slightest inkling about what a prostitute’s life might be like, you can’t get past its phoniness. In fact, the only part about Pretty Woman I really enjoy is Laura San Giacomo, and that probably puts me in a super-minority.

In watching it in order to write even the dinkiest listicle about it, I realized that my fashion vocabulary completely failed me regarding Julia Roberts’ first costume in the film. You know the one: the most streetwalkery, the least hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold. It’s hooker with an aluminum spleen at best. But while I didn’t know how to describe it beyond “What the fuck is she supposed to be wearing?” and thereabouts, I could liken it to another pop cultural woman of the night.


In the original Final Fight, you encounter a female enemy, Poison, who’d later go on to become playable in the Street Fighter games. She’s never stated to be a prostitute, but she is a streetwalker in the literal sense: She trots up to you as you scroll down the street and attempts to kick your ass, just like every male enemy does. Poison lacks Vivian’s thigh-highs and the smoking jacket, but the two characters are baring similar amounts of skin beneath their tank tops. And then there’s that hat. The Pretty Woman hat is either a pageboy cap or a Greek fishing hat, according to my panel of experts. And while most probably assume Poison is wearing a cop hat, reappropriated punk-style, I think it’s actually a Greek fishing hat.

Were Greek fishing hats in style for a certain class of woman in the early 90s? I have no idea. Was the Pretty Woman outfit representative of something a prostitute would have actually worn? Or would she have looked odd and out-of-place even in the skantastic fashion netherworld that was Hollywood Boulevard in 1990? Again, not having been in the market for prostitutes when I was seven, I can’t say.

And in case you’re thinking that Poison’s outfit might have been a tip of the hat — that is, the 90s prostitute hat — to the most famous hooker of the era, it’s not. Pretty Woman hit theaters on March 23, 1990, and FInal Fight first hit arcades in December 1989. Poison technically debuted first, so the two designs probably originated separately, though I’d be interested to know if they were both inspired by a real-life look, hookery or not.

Who Wore It Better? — previously:

Sunday, August 3, 2014

The Pleasurable Irritation of Misplaced Nostalgia

On one hand, this post may appeal especially to the video game-literate members of my audience. On the other, it speaks to a larger sensation that I'm sure we have no word for.

Here is Rene Aubry’s “Seduction,” an instrumental piano piece that I heard yesterday on KCRW.



Now, please, what does it sound like? Aubry released the song on his 2013 album, Forget Me Not, which means that whatever I’m thinking of mostly likely came out before, but something about this song triggers my nostalgia sensors nonetheless. Just given my own history, it’s likely whatever it reminds me of came from a video game, just because a life playing video game has meant a lot of time listening to instrumental “wallpaper” music. To me, the Aubry song sounds like a minor key version of something in a major key, but for the life of me I can’t say what.

Is it this? Is it this? Does this trigger anyone else’s nostalgia sensors? This is driving me crazy, but in a way I don’t especially mind.

Friday, November 15, 2013

With “It” Being a Lusty, Snaggletoothed Trashmouth

And then I realized that Amy Sedaris as Hurshe Heartshe on The Heart, She Holler looks more or less like a real-life, human version of Lil from Squidbillies, sloppy lines and all. I can’t tell if it’s a result of Adult Swim cross-promotion or just that there’s a certain aesthetic for that sloppy truckstop waitress who clearly puts a great deal of effort into looking like a slopcrundle.


Points for Lil, however: the Hedwig-esque hairdo.

Who Wore It Better? — previously:

Sunday, November 10, 2013

With “It” Being Eyes That Have Seen It All

Should Bjork ever locate the mythical Ice Crystals of Jólasveinn and achieve full use of her snow elf powers, she’d surely master the art of shapeshifting. And were she to transform into an animal that conveyed her full Bjorkiness, that animal would surely be the gerenuk, the African gazelle known for standing on its hind legs and appearing magical. Why, you may ask, would the single most famous Icelander become a animal that inhabits the dry scrub of East Africa? Because of this:


The smirk. The dark eyes. The glint suggesting that both are actually trickster spirits masquerading as earth creatures. Actually, I’m not sure that gerenuk isn’t already Bjork in disguise.

By the way, if you haven’t heard the album Bjork recorded when she was eleven years old, you’re missing out. A sample:


Who Wore It Better? — previously:

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Fun With Math and Outdated Rock Music

Math can be fun! Observe:

Aldo Nova's 1981 hit "Fantasy"



+

Lita Ford's 1988 song "Kiss Me Deadly"



+

glasses

=

Weezer's terrible 2001 song, "Hash Pipe"



And a hat tip to the A.V. Club's new feature: musicians and singers publicly shitting on the one song they just can't stand. The guy from The Gaslight Anthem picked "Hash Pipe," forcing me to think about it for the first time in a decade. But look where this thought took us!

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

With “It” Being a Winning, Hamstery Grin

A cool Google trick: Did you know that if you image search the phrase “little critter,” you get a bunch of weird drawings of Lena Dunham? It’s true! Try for yourself. I’ve lined up a few side-by-sides for you. See?






This all came about when my coworker directed me to Tumblr for this post, which posited that Lena Dunham looks like Christina Applegate’s stoner brother from Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead. She kind of does:


At the time I thought the resemblance was strong enough to reblog it, but then someone who follows me on Tumblr tweeted at me — and yes, I realize how funny this sentence will sound in twenty years, but this is really how we used the internet in 2013, children of tomorrow — and she pointed out how Lena Dunham actually looks more like Little Critter. She was right. Oh, how she was right.

Until today, I didn’t know what Little Critter’s name was and couldn’t have located it on Google, since “overalls-wearing porcupine-guinea pig thing that learns lessons” isn’t an effective search term. They used to sell the Little Critter books at the carwash my parents used. I never bought them, but I know they attracted the same kind of people who liked that weird Suzy’s Zoo universe of clothes-wearing farm animals that seemed to be everywhere despite not being, like, attached to a syndicated cartoon. Once in elementary school, a girl who sat next to me explained the whole universe of Pekkle, and I think that was the first time I had the reaction, “I know I’m weird and nerdy, but you have it so much rougher than I do.”

In closing, if Lena Dunham reads this, I would like to think she’d make this face:


Which she can probably do pretty well. And just saying, but if she wants to don some overalls and put a frog on her head this Halloween, I’ll say, “Hey, she dressed up like that woodchuck thing I learned about! What was its name? ‘Litter Clittle’?”

Who Wore It Better?, previously:

Rome by Way of Portland

The best justification for the relevance of Italo disco? Gary Low's "I Want You," which this comment on the previous Italo disco-related post informed me is the origin of the sample used in Washed Out's "Feel It All Around," also known as the Portlandia theme song.

Here's Low's 1983 track "I Want You," which is definitely more on the disco end of Italo disco. Enjoy all eight minutes of it, but listen for the twinkly sound effect at the twenty-second mark.



And here is Washed Out's "Feel It All Around."



I wonder if Fred Armisen had something to do with this.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Stephen King Meets Super Mario

So here’s something I didn’t expect to write ever.

For you who don’t follow video games, a quick preface: 2002 saw the release of Super Mario Sunshine, the Hawaiian shirt-wearing black sheep of the series that sent Mario off to face all manner of tropical danger during an island vacation. One of the areas Mario must hop through is Sirena Beach, which exists in a state of perma-sunset and which is home to the Hotel Delfino and more than its share of ghost problems. In fact, Mario’s first mission in this area pits him against this weird, manta ray-shaped shadow that emerges from the ocean and slowly slimes over the whole resort. Mario can only kill it by repeatedly attacking it, breaking it down into smaller and smaller mantas until the smallest of them die for good.

Here’s a video of the manta monster in action:


Note that the music is appropriately creepy and David Lynch-y. I though this would be the extent of pop-cultural connections to be made, but that’s apparently not the case. The “cloudbush” thread, an ongoing NeoGAF message board discussion that’s been trying to find “mind-blowing” video game trivia since 2008, makes an interesting point about the Super Mario Sunshine manta. (It’s not the first surprising connection it’s made, and this isn’t the first one I’ve noted on this blog.) Basically, the whole scene could be a riff on The Shining. At the end of the book, when Wendy and Danny are fleeing the burning Overlook with Dick Halloran — remember, the Scatman Crothers character doesn’t get axed to death like he does in the movie — only Dick looks back, and when he does he sees something odd... even in the context of everything else that happens in The Shining.
From the window of the Presidential Suite he thought he saw a huge dark shape issue, blotting out the snowfield behind it. For a moment it assumed the shape of a huge, obscene manta, and then the wind seemed to catch it, to tear it and shred it like old dark paper. It fragmented, was caught in a whirling eddy of smoke, and a moment later it was gone as if it had never been.
These creatures aren’t the same, and the message board post incorrectly calls the Shining manta “paper-thin,” when it’s actually the Mario manta that gets called that. The Shining text does eventually compare its manta to paper, however. And both mantas fragment into nonexistence. Debatable physical qualities aside, how many giant manta shadows can you think of that are associated with pop culture hotels that have serious ghost problems? That’s a fairly specific condition, you must admit. I have no idea whether the similarity might be intentional, but on coming to your own conclusion, please consider about these two points. First, I would have never thought that a Legend of Zelda game would have been inspired by Twin Peaks, but it happened, and weirder things have inspired video games. Second, Nintendo loves obscure references. Even Super Mario Sunshine is full of them. The whole Sirena Beach map, for example, is designed to look like a Gamecube controller. See?


The controller of the system you’re using to play the very game is less out-of-nowhere than The Shining, as far as references go, but I feel like the hidden controller at least shows that Nintendo sometimes operates on a subtle level. Someone just casually playing the game probably wouldn’t notice either — the hidden controller or a debatable nod to a Stephen King novel. I’m not sure who at Nintendo could say with any certainty “Yes, it’s supposed to be The Shining” or “No, who are you and how did you get past security?” but at the very least, this must be a very specific, very strange coincidence a double ghost hotels and oversized mantas that have both fragmentary and papery qualities.

Video games weirdness, previously:

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Danger in Deling City

I’m going through a Serge Gainsbourg phase. That’s something awful people say to indirectly tell you that they’re classy, worldly, cultural, hip and other adjectives that, when combined, usually equal awful. Nonetheless, it’s true. I have been listening to him lately, because in spite of the pretentious people who may count him among their most recent obsessions, he’s actually quite phenomenal. In fact, he’s so good that you can be a non-French-speaking person who’s missing out on his expert worldplay and still enjoy his songs, and that’s saying quite a bit, seeing as how his lyrical prowess is one of his best qualities.

The song I’m posting today, however, is instrumental, so you monoglots and francophobes needn’t worry any.

Gainsbourg scored the 1970 Anna Karina film Cannabis, and one of the tracks happens to be one of my all-time favorites of his compositions. It’s titled “Danger.” Here it is:


But the thing about this track is this: It’s good on its own, but every time I hear it, I think of a track from a video game soundtrack I played years ago: “Under Her Control” from Final Fantasy VII. Here’s that one:


Can I explain why one makes me think of the other? No, not really. There’s not one specific detail about the former that I could say reminds me of the later. However, the whole gestalt of the Gainsbourg track nonetheless makes me think of the one my Uematsu. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve heard something “legitimate” in something from a video game, but somehow this one seems to linger more heavily than the others.

Anyone?

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

With “It” Being the Look of a Woman Who Knows Something

I’m kind of surprised it doesn’t come up more often, especially with the tendency for pop culture put everything in terms of “X is the new Y,” but doesn’t Nicki Minaj look a hell of a lot like Chaka Khan?

Nicki Minaj looks like Chaka Khan

No little joke here. I just think these two are one wig swap away from looking like sisters. I’ve noticed this before watching video footage of Minaj. I’d see a flash of Chaka Khan in there, just for a second. But in this side-by-side in particular, I think the resemblance is pretty dead-on.

Who Wore It Better?, previously:

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Everything You Know and Cherish About Mr. Belvedere Is About to Be Dropkicked Like a Jacket

It’s a story as old as 1985: Someone dropkicked his jacket as he came through the door… and no one glared. Yeah, it’s glared, not cared. To think, you’ve been karaokeing the Mr. Belvedere theme song incorrectly all these years! But stop hitting yourself, stupid, because this is the least of what you probably don’t know about Mr. Belvedere.

A few weeks ago, I was looking at Shirley Temple’s filmography in hopes of finding that one movie in which she has her hair in ringlets and sing-talks all adorably. A 1949 film title jumped out at me: Mr. Belvedere Goes to College. “What I coincidence!” said I, “Surely this cannot be the same Lynn Belvedere of my childhood!” But it totally was. Almost forty years before the 80s TV series began, Clifton Webb had portrayed Lynn Belvedere, persnickety butler, in on the big screen.


But that’s not all: Mr. Belvedere Goes to College is, in fact, a sequel to a 1948 film, Sitting Pretty, which had paired the butler character with a different family unprepared for his snooty sort of British love. There was even a third movie, Mr. Belvedere Rings the Bell, and on top of that, the character originated in a 1947 novel, Belvedere, written by F. Hugh Herbet, the guy who wrote The Moon Is Blue. TCM has some clips that show some footage of Webb in the role:


As you can see, he’s very much so that type of effete Lord Autumnbottom character that makes you ask, “Is he just very particular about everything, or is he supposed to be gay?” — sort of a forerunner to Niles Crane, and look how that turned out. Mr. Belvedere's ambiguous sexuality may well have resulted from the fact that Webb himself was gay. The version of Mr. Belvedere that Christopher Hewett played on the TV series had fewer queeny tendencies, but it’s probably worth noting that it’s speculated that Hewett — per Wikipedia, “a devout Catholic and lifelong bachelor” — was also gay, and not in that trite “OMG, I heard [Attractive Young Actor] is gay, OMG” way but in the sense that he fairly obviously was gay but was also just too religious and too publicity-wary to be open about it. To Hewett’s credit, he did play Carmen Ghia’s lover in The Producers, and I totally didn’t realize that until I wrote this post. And that counts for something.

Clifton Webb, meanwhile, was visited by and posed for a photo with Marilyn Monroe on the set of Sitting Pretty, during which he apparently did the what came naturally to a man who had no sexual interest in her whatsoever: crammed her mouth with food.

on the left: moderately famous person laurette luez (less famous but far longer-lived than marilyn)
 
Webb died in 1966, meaning he did not witness Hewett’s take on his character. (I’m sure he would have disapproved, in classic, Niles Cranesian style.) Had he lived through the early 90s, however, Webb would have seen two echoes of his film work on mainstream American TV. There was Mr. Belvedere — which ran from 1985 to 1990, which is about ten years less than I feel it should have run, based on how often I remember watching it as a child — but there was also Twin Peaks, which ran from 1990 to 1991, which is about thirty years less than you might guess, based on how often film studies types talk about it today. Twin Peaks featured a bird named Waldo and a veterinarian named Dr. Lydecker, and the two combined to form a nod to the 1944 film Laura, in which Clifton Webb played Waldo Lydecker, the man who unsuccessfully tries to kill the title character, after whom noted Twin Peaks floatie Laura Palmer was named.

And that, friends, is all I have to say about Mr. Belvedere, save for one last thought: Remember Angela? The Kimmie Gibler-type who’d visit the Owens family and mangle Mr. Belvedere’s name? In case you wondered if anyone had attempted to compile all the things she’d erroneously called him, rest easy knowing that the internet is already on it. Thanks, internet!

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Hooter Simpson

The following picture shows you a decorative ceramic dish my coworker keeps on her desk.


It’s an owl. She thinks it looks especially like that dick owl from the “How many licks?” Tootsie Roll Pop ad. You know, the one where the owl steals the kid’s candy? Anyway, I think my coworker is right about the resemblance. However, she keeps it with its little ceramic owl feet pointed toward her. I see it from the other end, and it looks like this:



And I can’t un-see Homer Simpson — especially the sixth-season DVD case that’s shaped like the top half of his head. Maybe a little stylized, but the color and the eye shape are dead-on.

Right?


I just thought I’d share that with the world.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Sex Mechanics From Planet Xanadu

A blog I’ve recently started following, TYWKIWDBI (“Things You Wouldn’t Know If We Didn’t Blog Intermittently” ) put up a post on “Tall Paul,” a 1959 Annette Funicello song that was the first rock and roll single by a solo female singer to make it on the top ten charts. It’s… bizarre. It hardly seems to qualify at rock and roll, by the standards of today or even the standards of pop culture just a few years after the song was released. The blogger makes a valid point about this strangeness: “It’s axiomatic that tastes in music and art change with time, but sometimes the degree of change within the span of one lifetime is so extreme that the mind reels.” I was rolling that thought around in my head when I watched the following video.


It’s the Dutch band Mistral, performing its 1978 song “Neon City” on German TV. Having thought about it quite a bit, I honestly can’t decide if this is a “Tall Paul” or not. Does it, in fact, demonstrate how far music has come from what at least what a few Europeans thought would sound hot so many years ago? Or is it even stranger yet because it’s not all that far off from what certain pop genres are doing today, if not in terms of sound then at least presentation? Would I bat an eye at all if someone like Jessie J or Ke$ha wore these exact outfits on stage, maybe to dress up a more modern but equally vapid, equally terrible song? No. I might wince, but I would nothing about my facial reaction would indicate that this was strange.

I suppose I should also note that Mistral’s first single — “Nectar,” whose album art alone is worth a few seconds of consideration — has aged much better and in fact sounds quite a bit like early Goldfrapp.


Either way, I suppose the mind reels.

Now That’s What Europe Called Music, previously:

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Definitive Proof That Zooey Deschanel Is a Time Traveler

Okay, guys, I know I’ve given my little rant before about how I think that Zooey Deschanel is evil and using her superhuman charm powers to hypnotize the entire world. I’ve also brought up the fact that I think she’s a clone and that her various doppelgangers have infiltrated Hollywood with varying levels of success. Tonight, I give you the most striking evidence yet that she is an entity to be feared: She’s been hatching her plan for at least 80 years.

Please watch, if you will, this clip of a 1930s-era Zooey (and two clones) performing the song “Heebie Jeebies,” looking and singing more or less exactly as Zooey does today.


Chilling. Incontrovertible. Melodic. Catchy. Thick-haired. Other adjectives.

You think about this. You think long and hard about what Zooey Deschanel is capable of.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

The Math Behind Berenice Bejo

Something that I’ve been rolling around ever since I saw The Artist:


Sofia Vergara + Cheryl Hines = Berenice Bejo. Think about it. It really holds up.

One more: Does it seem weird to anyone else that the film has a used-up, outgoing female figure played by Penelope Ann Miller in her first notable role since… what? Carlito’s Way? And yet the film’s attractive, promising new female character is named Peppy Miller? No? Anyone?

Monday, March 12, 2012

I Want You to Grow in My Hand

Do you love Alison Moyet?

Because I really do. I think she’s an underrated 80s singer, and until recently I believed that no subsequent artist really came close to capturing the weird little bit that she did so well. But then I realized that Adele, especially the Adele of two years ago, looks like Alison Moyet to the point that if one robbed a bank and you had to describe her to a police department sketch artist, you’d have a hard time explaining that it was one and not the other. And no, that’s not just because they’re both heavyset British women singing critically acclaimed pop songs. It also has to do with face shape and chin severity, as well as a bigger-than-typical overall presence as a singer in the non-literal sense.

Observe, please, Moyet’s incredible 1984 song, “Love Resurrection”:


And yes, I picked the smuttiest-sounding lyric from the song for the post title.

Moyet is notable for being the singer of Yaz’s 1982 superhit, “Situation”, which everyone has heard but which few people know is called “Situation” and even fewer people know is sung by a woman. Her distinctive laugh, which is featured in echo-y form in “Situation,” has been sampled again and again in the years since “Situation” was released.

One more point of discussion, and it’s especially nerd-directed: Is it weird that whenever I listen to “Love Resurrection,” I think of “Real Folk Blues,” the over-the-end-credits theme from Cowboy Bop? Because I can’t hear one without the other, though I should say I am entirely able to listen to Adele without thinking of Cowboy Bebop.

I mean, until now, anyway.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Shards of Suspense

I admit I don’t know exactly what the show Breakout Kings is about, but I’d like to think it’s about contestants in some sort of acne competition. I have to wonder if the only one who keeps seeing the posters all over the city and thinking of Rebecca Gayheart’s bug-eyed overacting in the finale of a certain low-rated 90s slasher film.


I guess splintering glass makes for a convenient shorthand for the message “This is an exciting thing where a group of people are in danger!” I’m actually surprised we don’t see that design more often.

Also? Underwhelming though Urban Legend might be, isn’t that cast kind of crazy snapshot of the 90s? A post-Cybill Alicia Witt, Joshua Jackson presumably sporting his Cruel Intentions dye job, Tara Reid before she barfed all over her career, a pre-Lex Luthor Michael Rosenbaum, ol’ Crazy Eyes and a post-My So-Called Life Jared Leto. All that plus Loretta Devine as a rent-a-cop and Natalie Woods daughter as the girl who gets her head chopped off while she’s driving a car.

Now that’s what some people called movies, I guess.