The Cornell Daily Sun (https://cornellsun.com/author/pfinocchiarocornellsun-com/page/2/)
I might not be the most popular guy in the room after this statement, but given the insane amount of hype surrounding The Dark Knight I feel compelled to speak my mind. No matter how many people seem to share the conviction that the new Batman sequel is “THE BEST MOVIE EVERRRR,” I would have to argue that the film — honestly, plain and simple — just ain’t that good.
What I’m about to reveal might well cause Brooklyn Vegan to block my IP address, and will certainly draw the scorn of Senior Editor Sammy Perlmutter (whose icy stare, through those thick, royal blue hipster glasses, will shake me to the core). My indie aficionado credentials are about to be revoked, because what I will soon divulge to you, dear readers, is, quite simply, unacceptable in indie-land.
The musical score is a vital aspect of any film — it can enunciate themes, build tension, evoke powerful emotional reactions from the audience and even alter the meaning of the images on the screen.
The Valerie Project is the effort of several musicians, including members of the Philadelphia-based psych-folk band, Espers, to explore the powerful effects of music on film in greater detail. The subject of their experiment? Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, a 1970 surrealist fantasy from Czech director Jaromil Jeres.
As a Crow Flies is a potent collection of folk rock songs from singer-songwriter Matthew Santos, best known as the vocal accompaniment to Lupe Fiasco on the rapper’s hit single, “Superstar,” from earlier this year. The six-track EP, released last year, is as impressive for Santos’ out-of-this-world voice as it is for the unwavering consistency of the songs and its abundance of soul.
Every weekend freshmen file out of their North Campus dormitories to head down to the big open party; frat bros and sorority gals dress up nice for formals; those lucky enough to have reached that magical 21st birthday (or to have a good enough fake to get past that pesky drinking age law) get their drank on at Dunbars and dance on tabletops at Johnny O’s; architecture students go to obscure house parties; Cornell, as a whole, gets crunk.
But that’s only half the mission. After successfully lowering their inhibitions to the point where they’ve long since forgotten they have two left feet and alienated all of their friends back home thanks to an embarrassing rendition of Soulja Boy — they want to dance. And to dance they’ll need some sweet tunes.
Adding to an already impressive (if not mainstream) list of performers, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists have signed on to open this year’s Slope Day festivities. The seminal indie rock group will perform in front of hordes of belligerent Cornellians celebrating the last day of classes by hitting Libe Slope (and the bottle), before Hot Hot Heat and headliners Gym Class Heroes take the stage later in the day.
♪Though you might hope and wish for good luck, movies before April do generally suck. Your local theater’s selections will just induce gags, unless you enjoy watching Martin Lawrence in drag. But Dr. Seuss gives reprieve from the season’s dismal lows. Horton Hears a Who! is pretty decent fo’ sho’.♪
So my verses don’t exactly rival those of Dr. Seuss, but the sentiment I’m trying to convey is legitimate nonetheless. The months from January through March are traditionally a dumping ground for studios trying to quickly and quietly get rid of projects they probably just realized they should never have made in the first place (“OK! 10,000 B.C. — it’s Spartacus meets Braveheart. But in Ancient Egypt. And with mastadons. Awesome, I think we nailed this one.”).
“WE GO IN WAVES OF FIVE! BLEND IN!”
A crowd of 30 huddled on the corner of East Avenue and Campus Road this past Tuesdsay night. Everyone was incognito, disguises carefully coordinated, voices masked and unrecognizable.
Who were these shady individuals and what were their intentions? Were they black-ops staging a coup? No, not creepy enough. The Feds orchestrating a sting operation? Maybe, but judging by the lack of firearms, probably not. Corporate fixers a la Michael Clayton? Marines? Members of a cult? Well, that last one might not be so far off the mark.
First, a story: I was sitting in Uris the other night, during what must have been the least efficient, most unnecessary all-nighter I or anyone else has ever experienced. Right around 4 a.m. I was scouring YouTube for music videos to watch, and I stumbled across Kanye West’s new “Flashing Lights” video.
I’m not too surprised that I was immediately hooked on Goldfrap’s new album, Seventh Tree, after listening through it only once. Some of its most immediate tracks fall into the very same category in which I’d place the Polyphonic Spree’s over-the-top, cheesy super-pop — admittedly a favorite genre of mine.