Reviews

With their gritty take on a vagabond warrior confronting supernatural forces on the moonlit rooftops and filthy alleyways of the city, relative newcomer Nikhil Bhagat and "Sinister" scribe C. Robert Cargill have come together (along with John Henry "How-the-hell-isn't-this-guy-in-everything?" Whitaker) to bring to life a character and universe begging for a feature adaptation. With the film's combination of "The Book of Eli", "Dark City" and "Léon: The Professional", it's easy to see how such a project could have tremendous potential.

It's a compelling portrait of the glamourless life of God's assassin that uses religious imagery without an overt political agenda. The film tells the tale of a weary soldier nobly resigned to his fate, getting by on what he can find in the trash and carrying out his assignments with a rifle that, much like him, is held together by rags. Though things move quickly, Bhagat lets his scenes breathe. He allows the audience to absorb the film's dingy atmosphere and Whitaker's imposing yet sympathetic presence.

One particularly effective moment features an unbroken take that traps the viewer in the alley as Whitaker's Walker comes to collect his trophy. Though the camera stays firmly planted at a distance, it keeps the audience as a captive throughout the whole process. Bhagat's choice to use minimal audio enhancement instead of a score for the entire ordeal only adds to the impact of the moment. Whitaker's cold efficiency suggests that the brutality we've witnessed is common and familiar to our hero, though the act's questionable necessity makes you wonder how much of this is duty and how and much is revenge.

Though just six and a half minutes, the film raises a lot of questions about the complicated motivations of our gruff-but-engaging protagonist and many concerns about the consequences of his actions. With Cargill's recent successes providing potential opportunity, let's hope he has the desire to go back and give this story the time it deserves. With any luck, this is just an introduction.

For his fifth special (fourth feature-length), Chris Rock does things a little differently. Instead of featuring a single performance in its entirety, Rock has pieced together near-identical performances from Johannesburg, New York and London into one special. The shows are edited together seamlessly with only his wardrobe as the giveaway. While this adds some variety to the performance and speaks to how universal his material is, it does take away a little from the illusion of spontaneity, however negligible that effect may be. Being that this was recorded in 2008, it doesn't take long for Rock to launch into his political material, featuring his thoughts on the forthcoming election, a subject he would return to. John McCain and George W. Bush are easy targets, but still pretty satisfying, and he has some fun with Barack Obama too. After some audacious views about mixed-race relationships, he throws doubt about Isaiah Washington's dismissal from Grey's Anatomy for using a slur for gay people starting with an "F" by saying its use dependent on context, even going so far as to say that it would be fair game in an argument. Curiously, he goes right into a bit questioning white people's use of the "N" word and claiming there would only be one very specific situation in which that would be acceptable. He does this without the slightest hint of irony, sadly. Later, after some astute observations about class disparity, Rock returns to the subject of relationships, his usual closer, but focuses more on bedroom politics than the criticism of women that's become a staple for him. Apart from a couple ill-advised or ignorant remarks, Rock's writing is as strong as its been since his first feature special. He manages to work in some meaty and insightful bits in between some memorable zingers, only made better with his magnetic personality. One imagines the experience would be better if some of his views were as progressive as his approach.

For his fourth special for HBO (third full-length), Chris Rock returns to Washington, D.C. Rock's grown a little since the last we saw him. His delivery resembles that of a preacher's more than ever before, with more inflection in his speech and the increased use of repetition. While his previous specials contained some casual sexism and mild misogyny, Rock's now confronted with the birth of his daughter, which one thinks may challenge some of his old viewpoints. Sadly, there seems to be little change in his archaic views on relationships or his often combative approach to women. Fortunately, Rock handles politics and cultural commentary with a more progressive viewpoint, adding his own spin on the issues without fear of crossing any lines. On the issue of pharmaceuticals and illegal drugs, Rock's razor-sharp insights confront some hypocritical truths. Rock's support of gay marriage is a welcome development, even if he does make marriage about as appealing as getting waterboarded. Rock's charm and charisma does a fair bit to overcome some narrow mindedness, being able to land jokes that would be groan-inducing by other comics. A mixed bag of material with a million dollar delivery.

Chris Rock returns to the stage a legitimate superstar, and for his venue he's chosen none other than Harlem's Apollo Theater. Everything is bigger and more elaborate this time around: the building, the set, the outfit, and the outrage. But it rarely translates to more laughs. It also doesn't help, looking back a few years later, how archaic a lot of the attitudes expressed by Rock are. His views on parenting and relationships are so outdated (and, it should be noted, were outdated at the time) that it sounds like you're listening to your dad cracking wise. This is only furthered when he begins to weigh in on the Bill Clinton impeachment, which he lays right on Hilary Clinton's doorstep. Rock has always had a way of keeping the ladies onside while making some really questionable observations about them, but I wonder if this particular set tested that infatuation. It sure doesn't help that he again spends the last act of this special criticizing women and being generally negative towards them. Sadly, when he does say something positive, like showing his opposition to homophobia, he uses it more as a transition and never takes the time to sell the idea to the audience, which would have been a brave thing to do in that time and place. It certainly would have set this apart from the other comics who predominantly use their charisma to sell a joke. Still, he does have a unique take on gun control that comes at the issue from a different direction and his prediction of how the A.I.D.S epidemic would develop is almost prophetic. It speaks to what the potential was for this set, and is every time out for Rock. A step down from a legendary feature debut.

The much-anticipated feature-length debut special from Saturday Night Live alum Chris Rock. Rock would only spend 3 years at SNL before heading off on his own, eventually reinventing himself as a prominent name in stand-up. He had released an album, Born Suspect, while still a cast member of SNL, and enjoyed some success with his HBO debut, the half-hour special Big Ass Jokes, but his success was limited. However, there was a buzz coming into this night, with a captive crowd just waiting for Rock to deliver big. It's an expectation seemingly shared by Rock, himself. Right off the bat, album covers from stand-up greats (Bill Cosby, Dick Gregory, Flip Wilson (as Geraldine), Richard Pryor, Steve Martin, Pigmeat Markham, Woody Allen and Eddie Murphy) are overlayed on footage of Rock making his way to the stage. Easing in with some material directed to his audience in Washington, Rock takes some jabs at Marion Barry (Note for the kids out there: He's kind of like the black Rob Ford) participating in the Million Man March festivities, which then leads him into a nice little run on crack that easily reels in the audience. From there, he explores politics, prisons, and the OJ Simpson trial before going into his views on the divide in the black community, highlighting the polarizing ways some in the community carry themselves, and unafraid to turn that spotlight inward with some keen criticisms. Once he's done covering these themes, Rock settles in and spends the last 15-20 minutes of his time exploring relationships between men and women, his charisma actually winning women over while he's pointing out their flaws. This isn't surprising as there aren't many who aren't won over by his million-dollar smile. This set turned Rock into a superstar, and it's easy to see why. Years later, it still seems vibrant and vital. Many would go on to emulate his style, but few ever made it work like he did.

Jim Gaffigan returns for his second major stand-up special. His approach has not changed a bit since the last time out as he continues mining the everyday for humour. Indeed, Gaffigan is a man who can stretch bacon for 10 minutes worth of material, and does stand atop the "white people problems" mountain. The recurring theme of laziness surfaces aplenty, as he uses it as a lens to view things like bowling, camping, hammocks, and fast food. Gaffigan does take a stroll through religion, but avoids controversy by simply using using situations out of the bible as backdrops for his fairly sanitized observations. Interesting to note that he uses his "audience" voice sparingly in this, except during the religious material, where he uses it as a defuser. Amusing if not entirely engaging.

Dave Attell returns with his second solo stand-up feature special and first for HBO. Attell performs at Washington's Lincoln Theater, a substantial upgrade over his first special. Everything is bigger this time around, with Attell ramping up the offensive material, which is saying something for Attell, and the crowd eats it up. But Attell seems to be taking steps to become a parody of himself here, devolving into a caricature of a mid-40s sleazeball. What before seemed endearing, the lovable low-life with a heart of gold now feels more like he's pandering to the lowest common denominator. He still manages to hit a few times while swinging wildly, but the results are far from satisfying. Attell is stronger when employing a more conversational style and in front of a smaller audience. Less is most certainly more in this case.

Stand-up's resident low-life makes his feature-length solo debut. Dave Attell, however, was no stranger to the stage by this point, having appeared on every late-night show, performed on several specials including a couple of solo half-hours, and headlined the Insomniac tour with Sean Rouse, Greg Giraldo, and Dane Cook, which came out on DVD the previous year. He's certainly at ease here, letting his equal parts creepy and lovable persona shine. Most people should be familiar with his act, either having seen some of his hosting work with Insomniac, The Gong Show, or Dave's Old Porn, or perhaps by having a sleazy, inappropriate uncle of their own. Attell's material mines his miscreant mind for his base thoughts and observations. He touches on all his favourite subjects: drinking, sex, porn, and race and he gives each as little respect as possible. In fact, Attell seems just as satisfied to make his audience cringe as he is to make them laugh. But beyond the shocks, it's actually funny. I wouldn't go so far as to say there's depth here, but he's more than just masturbation jokes and recollections of drunken misadventures. Of course, there's plenty of that too.

After multiple appearances with Comic Relief and a half hour special on HBO, Dave Chappelle returns to his hometown of Washington, D.C., to tape his first hour-long special. He spends the bulk of the time exploring racial differences and making cultural observations, with a smattering of political humour. Chappelle manages to navigate some sensitive material with a disarming charisma. He's not breaking any new ground for black comedians here, but he manages to make it seem fresh with his effortless charm. Some jokes (like the ones featuring the out-of-place baby) illustrate Chappelle's ability to paint a picture with words and gives a few clues into what it was that made his show so popular. The political bits and the casual sexism will make this feel a little dated, but there is enough here to appeal to a newer audience.

Fresh from taping season 2 of Chappelle's Show, which would sadly turn out to be his last full season, Dave Chappelle brings the fire and magnetism that helped make him a superstar. For his second hour-long special, Chappelle has decided to go to The Fillmore in San Francisco, a nearly 100-year-old venue. Right away we're walked through the history of the place. Lenny Bruce played there. Richard Pryor, Robin Williams, George Carlin, and Paul Mooney played there. This of course adds an air of importance to the set, a kind of "big game" atmosphere. What he ends up bringing, however, is a fairly juvenile performance, with misguided bits on Native Americans or having sex with monkeys, and a really questionable riff on Michael Jackson's molestation allegations including openly questioning the motivations of the child at the center of the the scandal and then later inexplicably criticizing a captive Elizabeth Smart for not doing enough to escape. When he's not busy blaming victims, he does have some pointed criticisms for America's founding fathers and insights into celebrity add some substance to the show, but unfortunately aren't quite enough to raise it to the lofty expectations set with the opening. Thankfully Chappelle has never been a comedian that relied too heavily on strong writing when it came to his stand-up, often being able to sell middle-of-the-road material with charisma and charm. He's able to do that to an extent with this, but there's only so far that carries you. After his first special, people across the world excitedly called their friends with bad interpretations of his gags that they were bubbling over to share. I feel like the phone lines will fall silent this time around.

"Dad" comic Jim Gaffigan steps into the spotlight for his first stand-up special. However, Gaffigan had already released 5 albums by the time this special premiered, so he was no novice. Perhaps one of the least controversial comics working today, Gaffigan's material may be considered a bit slight by some. He tends to keep to minor annoyances and innocuous observations, usually involving food (it is truly amazing how much material he is able to pull out of Hot Pockets). In addition, using asides, Gaffigan comments on his own comedy as a member of the audience in a peculiar voice, which may put some off, but otherwise, should appeal to most people across the spectrum. Definitely one of the strongest family-friendly comedians out there.

Dana Gould is a bit of a throwback. He's that old school pro who worked with all the greats. Yet, he still seems to fly under everyone's radar. Part of the reason is he has a limited amount of material available. His first album, Fun House, was released in 1998 and he wouldn't have any other releases until this special, in 2009. He has released one special since, I Know It's Wrong, in 2013 (in which he strangely repeats a couple of the gags from this one), but that at the time of this writing has had a limited release on video and is more widely available as an album download. Both feature some great moments and are strong efforts, but neither can compare to the strength of Let Me Put My Thoughts In You. Gould raises to a level few comics have with this release, doing a set that seems slight at first glance, but that really speaks to many larger issues with personal anecdotes and seemingly innocuous observations. His take on marriage and parenthood is the stuff of legend, however, with the attention to detail and willingness to cross any line taking it to another level. Part Bill Hicks, part Lewis Black and part drunken door-to-door salesman. This special is directed by none other than Bob Odenkirk, another comedy pro.

Stand-up comedian and frequent contributor to This American Life, Mike Birbiglia, takes on his first feature-length special. Coming off like your girlfriend's brother who still lives in the basement of his parents' house, Birbiglia seems too guy-off-the-street to have anything interesting to say, but his hindsight makes for a great lens through which to view his life. Theming the show as a therapy tool, his take on a therapy session is substantially less intense than, say, someone like Marc Maron. Instead, he uses the time to unburden himself of embarrassing situations and awkward moments. Focuses mostly on personal material and anecdotes about past employment or gigs he had, but his take is universal and it's easy to get on-board with his good-natured demeanor. The funniest "average guy" you'll ever see.

David Cross's long-awaited first stand-up special, done shortly after Mr. Show had finished its run and 3 years before his first comedy album. The set features observations about pop culture and social attitudes. Cross, who does not suffer fools gladly, takes aim at certain attitudes or personalities and unapologetically has at them. Of course, being that this was just before the Bush administration became a staple for him, his harshest criticism is saved for religion. Cross gleefully prods the church throughout his set, joking about being raped by the Virgin Mary or teasing Jesus Christ. The choice of material will most certainly put some off, but Cross has never been about appealing to everyone. Those that like him, however, like him a lot.

David Cross has gotten older, but seemingly hasn't lost a bit of that anger or spark. His writing has matured some, and he's become more adept at getting to the heart of an issue with a unique perspective. His evolution to something of a political comedian was like watching someone find themselves and his observations of the Republican Party and their voting base works perfectly with his sardonic wit. Don't worry, he's still got plenty left for religion, calling the bible "the world's oldest game of telephone" and Mormonism the "Scientology of its day." Probably too audacious and subversive for most, but has much to offer for the counter culture.

Robert Schimmel's big comeback special after years of fighting cancer and various other serious medical ailments. His style has changed a little bit over the years, with Schimmel varying up his material compared to his earlier work and using his health challenges for inspiration. The result is a more mature and engaging experience that helps the audience connect with him in a way his more vulgar work never really did. Things go a bit astray when he begins a snapshot slideshow, but one supposes he can be forgiven given what he's been through. Sadly, this would be his last special as he died in a car accident shortly after this was released.

Last Comic Standing season 6 winner Iliza Shlesinger makes her major league debut with War Paint and she brings the energy in spades. Looking like Stephanie from Full House who never grew out of a college punk rock phase, she seems in her element here. I remember when she appeared as a guest comic on the season finale of LCS's 7th season, which they were treating as a formal event, and, as such, she wore a dress that she looked so uncomfortable in that it distracted from her set. It was partially because Iliza's a bit of a tomboy and her comedy could be described the same way. While she's been effective in smaller doses, you find yourself checking the time as the show drags on with her dolphin/sheep vocal effect beginning to grate fairly quickly. She does have some decent material that works well with her persona and her confidence and swagger are engaging, so she has plenty to work with as she develops. One feels she might have a few good sets in her.

Zach Galifianakis's first feature-length special, following the "Look Who It Isn't" compilation. Features one of his stand-up sets with footage of Zach on the road and an interview with "Zach's twin brother" interspersed. His material consists of one liners, wordplay, crowd work and general weirdness. Zach style has a relaxed, natural feel, but at times comes off more sloppy and unprepared. Fortunately, Galifianakis is downright lovable and his ad-Ibs tend to be dynamite, so that does buy him a little slack. His innovation in how he presents his material can be better than the material itself, though he does have some solid laughs on here. Starts slow, but has a killer finish.

Despite releasing three albums, one previous special, a book and a movie based on his life in which he, himself, starred, Mike Birbiglia still keeps things pretty low key. His broadcast experience has taken him from being a stand-up to being more of a spoken-word story-teller. At times, he reminds me of what Stuart McLean would have been like as a young buck; one can certainly see Birbiglia settling into broadcasting in his later years as a semi-retirement plan. This special sees him working through the theme of relationships with a format that leans a little less towards straight stand-up and more towards a one-man show; the second half particularly is dedicated to sharing and explaining an arc he recently endeavored in his personal life. Birbiglia recalls some of his previous experiences in the search for love in his usual self-deprecating manner. His delivery is natural and he's so winsome and sincere he gets away with some playful but frank observations about sexes. Looks like Seth Rogan meets John Ritter and just as fun to spend time with.

Originally included with copies of the Werewolves & Lollipops album and contains footage of a set leading up to the WW&L album taping, including alternate material and alternate versions of Lollipop jokes. Terribly shot but probably his strongest set available on video, although not as polished or well executed as the album version. The jokes include pointed political commentary, personal insights on growing up in a small town and, later, working in the entertainment industry and good old-fashioned dick jokes. It should also be noted that, looking back at this some years later, it's nice watching Patton with some fire in him as there's no question age has dimmed that spark a bit. Definitely a landmark work in the alternative comedy movement. Track this down if you're a fan of alt comedy or just bored of mainstream comics.

T.J. Miller is not your average comedian, but rather, an intense meditation on being awkward and generally strange. Most of his material derives from the bizarre nature of the things he says and the way he flails his body about (both of which appear out of nowhere). He's kind of like the bastard child of one of the Monty Python gang, growing up in a completely different environment but still carrying those genetic markers. Or maybe this generation's Robin Williams if Williams cut back on the coke? Or probably more accurately a combination of the two. You have room in your heart for at least one zany comic so you might as well make it T.J. Miller.

By the time this special was released, Robert Schimmel was a veteran. Having worked all over the country and being featured on live events organized by Rodney Dangerfield, Schimmel was on the cusp of breaking through in a big way and many thought this special would help him do just that. He works a traditional blue set here, with the material consisting mostly of ridiculous sex riffs, bits about the wife and gender politics, and rounded out with a shitting-in-public joke. During this period in his career, when he was at his best back then, he sounded like a young Rodney Dangerfield (who clearly left an impression) but when he's at his worst he sounds like your drunk uncle who tells you jokes while holding on to your arm so you can't get away. Wouldn't make another special until 2009 due to a variety of illnesses.

Stuck in the shadow of Searching for Sugar Man, this tale of an all-black protopunk band from Detroit hits many of the same notes, but plays its own tune. This is a film whose appeal may be more limited than Sugar Man due to the hard and raw style of the band in question, but the music unearthed is no less vital.

Death's story is told mostly from the perspective of Bobby and Dannis Hackney, the bassist/vocalist and drummer, respectively. They recount the birth of Death and walk you through some of the places of note. We're robbed of the opportunity to hear from who we learn is the driving force behind the band, guitarist David Hackney, who sadly passed away from lung cancer in 2000. He does make appearances in the movie in the form of audio recordings and you get a sense of the unique viewpoint that gave the band its vision through these recordings and his brothers' recollections.

It's that vision that shaped Death, and ultimately, limited their potential. Being steadfast about not changing the name of the band, David felt the name went with the concept he had for the band and, as such, he was resolute. Even when record mogul Clive Davis came knocking – loving the music but hating the name – David chose to pass the opportunity by rather than compromise. This, in a nutshell, is the answer to the great mystery of how they were deprived their stardom. Fortunately, the film has more to offer than that.

It's watching Bobby's sons, and the effect his early music has on them that provides the film with its heart and makes it more than a just sad story about how elusive fame may be. Their drive and determination to get their father's music out by-any-means-necessary is inspiring to watch. The excitement with which they recall finding out their dad is a rock pioneer is written all over their faces. Bobby had instilled in his sons a deep appreciation of music of all kinds, just like his father had done for him, and it turned out they appreciated his music most of all.

Sounding like Love, The Who, Buzzcocks, The Saints, The Damned and The Real Kids all playing with The Stooges' gear, it's easy to see why there was so much excitement for Death's recent rediscovery. Chance plays such a big part in any musical success, it's little wonder that so many great artists fall through the cracks. One supposes that with the success of Searching for Sugar Man, these documentaries attempting to right musical wrongs might become their own subgenre. If that's the case, you can count me as an early enthusiast. These stories speak to the longevity of art and the way it sits there patiently, waiting to be discovered and the magic that happens when you do. As Henry Rollins puts it, "It's one of those things that keeps you going to the record store hoping for another great story like that."

15 minutes into 20 Feet from Stardom you really become excited about the possibilities. You hear familiar songs that are given a new perspective and see the faces that match the voices you fell in love with. But before the film winds down, you have more questions than you did going in. It devolves into little more than a well-produced message from the Music Industry Tourism Board. That's not to say there's no value here. It does provide a look at some significant voices with a top-line glance into their place in the recording industry and their personal journeys. There's enough here to engage you and ample servings of some truly outstanding music (the a cappella take of Merry Clayton's "Gimme Shelter" vocal gives you chills and the recollection of its recording session is one of the film's highlights). But it's narrow focus and limited perspective do leave a lot on the table.

The bulk of the film consists of five stories from the 1960s to the present, including Darlene Love (ghost singer for The Crystals on "He's a Rebel" and a featured performer on the greatest Christmas album of all time, A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector), Merry Clayton (the aforementioned backup on The Rolling Stones' "Gimme Shelter" and actress from Cagney & Lacey), Tata Vega (The Color Purple soundtrack and numerous background gigs from the 80s to present), Lisa Fischer (Rolling Stones, Luther Vandross and Tina Turner collaborator and Grammy winning solo artist), and Judith Hill (Performed at Michael Jackson's memorial service and would go on to compete on season 4 of The Voice after the film's completion).

While both Tata Vega and Lisa Fisher seem to lack the resume of classic recordings that Love, Clayton or Claudia Lennear (another subject) have racked up, Judith Hill's inclusion is perhaps the most questionable. She seems to view the role of backup singer unbefitting her, going so far as to wear a wig when performing a backup gig on television so as not to be recognized by her fans. Having not amassed the body of work the other subjects have, she has little to contribute here except as a counterpoint to Lisa Fisher's humble demeanor or as a throw-in to represent the future of the industry. Unfortunately, she seems ill-suited to be a symbol or generational representative, as her scenes fail to accomplish this goal with any impact.

One of the issues I had coming into this movie as a music fan is that I was able to see the potential this kind of documentary had in mining the munificent history of Rock and Roll and Soul music. However, perhaps because of my own musical biases, I found the segments focusing on the music and voices of the 60s and 70s so much richer and more interesting. The film introduces big figures of the time like Phil Spector and Ike Turner but never explores the gory details of what it was like working with such notorious personalities. Indeed, one could have easily have scrapped anything 80s and upward and filled that time talking about the difficulties these women of colour faced from producers, record labels, and even the lead vocalists themselves, during some very turbulent times. Throw in some of the talented ladies from the George Clinton, Sly Stone and James Brown revues, or perhaps even a few of the fellas, and you have yourself a foundation for an insightful film.

The movie also fails to explore what it was like performing on some of the most famous recordings of our time and have little to show for it. Nothing is done to investigate whether these artists were fairly compensated. It was great that they were able to get Mick Jagger to sit down and talk about his backup singers, but it would have been interesting to ask him if he thought they had been properly remunerated for their work. Just a bit of a look into the mechanics of the industry in that regard would help us better understand what being in that occupation was like from a financial standpoint and what kind of life that affords.

At the end of the film's airy 90 minute running time, one does walk away with a new appreciation for the role of the backup singer (for at least the next little while) and perhaps that's all this documentary ever aspired to be. But an Oscar nominee should strive for something greater than that. While being entertaining, the film is hardly insightful and leaves one with the distinct impression of wanting more. Perhaps we can get a miniseries on this one day.