Holy War at the Box Office



I was browsing The Huffington Post today and happened to read the latest column by Jane Hamsher, entitled Maher Mangles Zucker at the Box Office. In a nutshell, the article champions the success (if you can call a #10 box office opening a “success”) of Bill Maher’s new film Religulous, by illustrating that although it only opened on a third as many screens as David Zucker’s new conservative comedy An American Carol, it made almost as much money ($35 million). By Hamsher’s logic, this makes Religulous three times as successful as An American Carol. She ends the article by noting, “There's no conspiracy going on against conservatives. When moviegoers have to vote with their dollars, it's just that nobody wants to see their shit.”

Of course, statements like these remind me that I must be some kind of masochist to constantly read the emotionally-driven rants at HuffPo, but the larger point is certainly valid. Much as conservatives like to decry how the liberal media is trying to maintain a stranglehold on the transmission of information, we must not forget that the news world--much like the world of cinema--is guided by the almighty dollar. Money talks, and if David Zucker’s #9 opening is any indication, we probably won’t be seeing a Carol sequel any time soon.

For the record, I saw Zucker’s film on Saturday, and for me it was sort of a mixed bag. I thought it raised a lot of really valid points about the hypocrisies and absurdities of Michael Moore and certain others, and some aspects were genuinely very funny. Unfortunately, though, the film was blatantly partisan to the point of discomfort: ACLU lawyers portrayed as zombies, liberals generalized as sheep and terrorist sympathizers. This type of humor is much more palatable when handled with more of a South Park approach; that is, raising necessary objections about the other side while still being sensible enough to poke fun at one’s own side for good measure. That’s where An American Carol falls desperately short. This film felt like one big bumper sticker slogan.

On the other side we have Bill Maher, just as merciless in his one-sidedness, but far more mean-spirited in the fact that he revels in his own dishonesty: duping real people into thinking he was recording a documentary about the spiritual journey and then ambushing them with his trademark sardonic charm. Granted we would expect nothing less from a comedian like Maher, of whom I am a genuine admirer, but still, you can’t help but think that he wasted a great opportunity for profound dialogue by taking a snide, preaching-to-the-choir approach. Maher raises a lot of really excellent questions about spirituality...and then immediately turns them into punch lines. That’s great for 90 minutes of laughs, but it’s not going to win a lot of converts.

Going back to the Hamsher article, I think she raises an interesting point but draws a disjointed parallel. Comparing a political comedy to a religious documentary (of sorts) is fair enough, but if I were to apply her same standard and compare Maher’s documentary to the Christian-themed Fireproof (a more direct contrast), which opened at #4 last weekend and remains at #8, then I could call Religulous an epic failure. Fireproof is only playing on 800 screens, and still grossed about three times the amount of Maher’s film in its opening weekend.

So I guess faith is still alive in America. Hamsher is right about one thing; there is no conspiracy against conservatives in Hollywood, but clearly there are some people who do want to “see their shit.”

Go figure.

Nightwish and Sonata Arctica Rock the Wiltern Theater




There’s something strangely euphoric about drowning for hours in a sea of sweat and body heat, strangers pressed against you on all sides, while having your eardrums hammered by loud musical vibrations blasting from speakers the size of studio apartments. If you’re truly passionate about your music, then you must be willing to suffer for it. On September 13th, fans of Nightwish and Sonata Arctica were more than happy to suffer for their favorite Finnish metal bands.

Though Nightwish headlined the show, Sonata Arctica has been every bit as instrumental (forgive the pun) in introducing the classic heavy metal sound to a new generation, with a few modern twists of course. Sonata Arctica might best be described as Iron Maiden on speed, while Nightwish has been at the forefront of popularizing symphonic metal, which combines all the traditional aspects of big hair metal with rich, orchestral backgrounds. In the case of Nightwish, try to imagine Metallica’s Symphony & Metallica CD, but female-driven.

Though I had never driven to the Wiltern Theater before, it wasn’t hard to find. I was able to spot the mile-long line of Brett Michaels haircuts and Dragonforce t-shirts from three blocks away. This was going to be an interesting show.

As a word of caution, people who value their personal space should never attend a standing-room-only concert with a sellout crowd. The Wiltern—which is no small venue—was packed from wall to wall. Fans were squeezed together so tightly that some could have legitimately shouted “Rape!” Nevertheless, when the lights dimmed and Sonata Arctica took the stage, all discomfort was swiftly forgotten.

The band kicked things off with Black and White, the opening track from their latest release, Unia, and then moved seamlessly into their single Paid in Full. The energy was truly electric, and vocalist Tony Kakko had more than enough charisma to keep the crowd on their feet. The band performed for roughly forty-five minutes, exciting fans with such classics as Don’t Say A Word and The Cage, but the whole set seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. We were all begging for more.

The passion behind each song took on new meaning as band members flailed across the stage and enthusiastic fans started moshpits from one end of the theater to the other. Bright spotlights flashed and danced in time with the music in an almost hypnotic fashion, and Tony’s powerful tenor screams were like shock treatment for an already electrified crowd. I now understand why they call it powermetal.

The cheering continued long after the members of Sonata Arctica took their final bows. After about a thirty-five-minute intermission and sound check, the lights dimmed yet again and the room was filled with the haunting sounds of a pre-recorded orchestral melody. As the members of Nightwish stepped forward one by one, the excitement of the crowd was nearly audible enough to drown out the Wiltern’s sound system.

I was especially intrigued as vocalist Anette Olzon took the stage, donning a sexy but tasteful pink and black dress and commanding unrivaled attention despite her fragile, petite frame. I wasn’t the only one in the audience asking the question, “Can she pull it off?” Anette only recently took over as lead vocalist for the band, following a contentious split with original vocalist Tarja Turunen. Tarja is a classically trained soprano with enough power in her lungs to shatter glass and a vocal range that almost defies logic. Anette has none of those qualities. Needless to say, I was skeptical about her ability to sing the Nightwish classics.

The band opened with Bye Bye Beautiful, a heart-racing rock anthem from the new album Dark Passion Play. The artists weren’t as flashy or charismatic as Sonata Arctica, and the levels were so bad you could barely make out the chord progressions, but nobody in the audience seemed to mind. Fans jumped, hollered and trampled one another beneath flickering lights as Anette sang the familiar verses and bassist/vocalist Marco Hietala screamed the words “Bye bye beautiful!”

When the band performed Dark Chest of Wonders, from the Tarja-Turunen era, it quickly became clear that Anette Olzon is most certainly not Tarja Turunen. For the most part she substituted the high notes in the chorus because, quite simply, she didn’t have the range for them. This was confirmed when she actually attempted the high notes (unsuccessfully) toward the end of the song.

At first this was disappointing, especially as she poured her heart into several songs for which Tarja was known: treasures such as Wishmaster, The Siren and Dead to the World. She truly is the anti-Tarja, substituting guttural opera singing for clean pop rock. As time went on, her voice really began to grow on me though. It occurred to me that when the men in the band went in search of their new vocalist, they weren’t looking for a carbon copy of the old vocalist.

Anette is a fascinating addition to the band, as she breathes new life into songs that fans have loved for years. She may not have that La Bohéme quality that made Tarja so unique, but she can belt out notes with pure rock-and-roll aggression in ways that an opera singer would never dream of attempting. I can honestly say that by the end of the show, she made a believer out of me. This is a new chapter in the Nightwish story, and if Saturday’s concert is any indication, the future looks bright indeed.

In addition to the classics, the band performed some truly breathtaking renditions of their new material. Songs like Amaranth and The Islander proved to be among the most popular selections with fans that night, and we were all left speechless and just a little bit dizzy by The Poet and the Pendulum, which was performed flawlessly in all of its fourteen-minute glory.

I was disappointed only by the fact that they toned down their performance for their—albeit smaller—American audience. There were no elaborate costume changes, no smoke or pyrotechnics, no strobe lighting. Judging by the live footage from their DVD releases, they put on some pretty intense shows overseas, whereas Saturday’s performance was basically by the books, save for the swirling spotlights. Then again, the Wiltern Theater isn’t exactly Wembley Stadium, so I suppose it’s understandable.

Simplicity aside, when you leave a venue feeling uncoordinated, sweaty and sore, with a heart rate somewhere around 200 beats per minute, you know you’ve been to the kind of show that metal heads would call “epic.” That being the case, I can honestly say that Saturday night at the Wiltern was a pretty epic experience. Where else can you dive headfirst into a moshpit filled with Dungeons & Dragons addicts while rocking out to a woman in a pink dress?