Vancouver Noise Fest weekend, plus Bison BC debut new songs!

Addendum: it's my understanding that Ejaculation Death Rattle have been added to the bill for Sunday. And yes, folks, that's Bison BC bassist Masa Anzai making noise Saturday at the Rickshaw! (He'll be making a rather different sort of sound with Bison on Friday, opening for 3 Inches of Blood at the Vogue. I'm told by a Very Reliable Source that Bison will be performing material off their upcoming album!). 

Attention Meatmen Fans!

Those of you eager to see the Meatmen at Fortune Sound Club on August 9th should take note that copies of the awesome Touch and Go hardcore punk fanzine anthology (read more on it on Tesco Vee's homepage) can be ordered in super-quick via Pulp Fiction books, at a substantial discount off the Canadian cover price (the website says "typically 30%," but I thought Chris said 20% today, while giving me, in fact, more than that; don't ask me to do the math, but the bottom line is that it was a damn good deal, with something like a three-day turnaround from when I placed the order and no shipping charges: beat that, Amazon!). The book is some 576 pages long, smells like 'zine ink (not too different from the Crass Records ink smell, actually), and is profusely illustrated (in inimitable 'zine fashion), with tons of punk-related articles by Tesco, Dave Stimson, and contributions from Henry Rollins, Ian Mackaye, and Keith Morris (among others). I'm particularly keen to read the Crucifucks reviews (26 is Tesco's homeboy, looks like)! Note: advance ticket sales for the Meatmen gig are only $6, and will get a lot more expensive come the show, so buy yours now! Meatmen song of the moment: "Pillar of Sodom," off their 1987 masterwork (and my fave Meatmen album) War of the Superbikes...

Beyond the Black Rainbow: last two days

Heads up, folks: today and tomorrow are the last two days to catch the theatrical run of one of the most unique, immersive, original SF films to emerge from Canada (certainly the trippiest). Made in Vancouver! For more, see my interviews with the cinematographer, Norm Li; the soundtrack composer, Jeremy Schmidt; and writer/director Panos Cosmatos. If you saw it on opening weekend, you know how rich, weird, and deep a vein this film swims in; it amply rewards repeat viewings, so go check it out again!

Chris Walter exclusive interview re: SNFU: What No One Else Wanted to Say

Chris Walter reads at The Cobalt, photos by Femke van Delft; not to be reused without permission


I did a kind of massive interview with Chris Walter for Big Takeover already, but he's willing to make time to give me some exclusive content for my blog... so here it is, another Chris Walter interview, about his newest and best band bio, SNFU: What No One Else Wanted to Say. Visit his website here for more information, and catch the present incarnation of SNFU at Funky Winkerbeans on Saturday the 21st, for Chris' booklaunch; he'll be on hand to sell books, priced at $15 (and the big guy is always more than happy to sign them; make no mistake, as imposing as a figure as he cuts, Chris is a pretty friendly, approachable dude).

Q: What do you love most about the music of SNFU?

A: I loved the whole package: the power, the riffs, the vocals, and the energy they put into live shows. SNFU blew me away when I first saw them at the Doghouse in Winnipeg in ’83, and I wasn’t surprised that they became as popular as they did. I was particularly shocked to see Jimmy Schmitz playing bass with them and jumping around all over the place. He’d been in a band with me just a year earlier, and he certainly wasn’t that good then. Jimmy learned because SNFU practiced like maniacs every day, and Pissed & Broke obviously did not. Still, I was dumbfounded by SNFU and it seemed somewhat surreal that they were from Edmonton. I mean, there were some good punk bands from Edmonton and Calgary, but SNFU were really good.

Q: How do you feel about your new band bio?

I’m sure the book has its flaws, but it must better than my two previous biographies just for the amount of work I put into it. The learning curve is steep with the music bios, and I still have much to learn before I’m truly satisfied. With this one, I realized it was important to interview the roadies, merch guys, and even fans because they remember things the bandmembers tend to forget. For touring musicians, the stories all blend together after a while and become one long, noisy blur. Writing music biographies is much different from writing fiction, and I’m basically just faking it as I go along.

Mr. Chi Pig at Rock'n'Relief, photo by Femke van Delft, not to be reused without permission.

Q: Has Ty Stranglehold (who had plans to write an SNFU band bio himself) ordered a copy yet? (Has he said anything about being scooped?).

Ty hasn’t ordered a copy yet, and he will probably never be the president of the Chris Walter Fan Club, but I gave him two years to get it done, and he’d been talking about it for years before that. Finally, when I learned that Ty still hadn’t interviewed many of the key players, I decided to move forward with my project. In many ways, I was meant to write this book because I personally know many of the people in the story, and I’ve known Ken Chinn for more than thirty years. If Ty ever does get his book finished, I will surely buy a copy.

Q: I remember you actually having to explain to someone at the Cobalt (RIP) that he couldn't buy you a beer, because you don't drink anymore (you'd figure your fans would know this by now...). In lieu of offering you alcohol, then, what should fans of yours do to show appreciation at the book launch? (Besides the obvious "buy my books!"). Is there anything they shouldn't do?

A: Don’t put your drinks on the table with my books because they always spill and wreck my covers. I recently bought book stands so the books won’t be lying flat, but I still hate it when people put drinks on my table. At a launch in Winnipeg once, the legs of the table buckled on two separate occasions when kids in the pit banged into it. Somehow, I managed to sell most of those books, even though they were covered in blood and beer and scratched with broken glass. You can buy me drinks if you want, but I’ll just give them away to broke-ass punk rockers. It still feels weird to do that, but for me, booze opens a door I intend to leave closed.

Q: Anything we haven't covered somewhere already that you want to say?

A: Fuck, probably, but I’m burned out from doing so many interviews and can’t think of anything else. Generally, I don’t put as much work into publicity, but I’m touring with this book and need all the press I can get. I worked for an entire year to get to this point, but now I just wish all the promo and touring was done so I can start for real on the next book. Sometimes I feel like a shark, unable to stop moving lest I drown.

...End interview, this is Allan here. Just a brief testimonial: I read a proof of SNFU: What No One Else Wanted to Say and really enjoyed it. Chris Walter has a gift for getting down to the nuts-and-bolts reality of being in a band; the illusions, lies and hype that surround the music industry disappear completely and he offers a compelling, down-to-earth, non-romanticized story of the rise, fall, and ongoing afterlife of one of the best bands in Canadian punk. It's his thickest bio yet - maybe his thickest book? - but it's about as easy to read as potato chips are easy to eat. Since Goony lives in Japan now, this may be one of the last chances Vancouverites have to see SNFU perform. Come to the show, buy a book, and don't put your drinks on Chris' table, already! 

Propaganda: North Korean film comments on the west

Thanks go out to Cinema Sewer's Robin Bougie, who posts some real gems of Facebook (and I don't even particularly care about vintage porn!). He just shared a link to a newly translated critique of Western values circulating online, called Propaganda, which supposedly emerges from North Korea. This segment on the entertainment industry serves as a tantalizing appetizer, but the ambitious may want to start at the beginning... Spread the word on this, folks - this seems well worth the time...

A few more great Kinks songs

In gratitude to Ray Davies for answering a few of my questions, I have to post a few more links to favourite Kinks' songs of mine, while trying to eschew the obvious (I mean, y'all KNOW "David Watts," right? Even if just from the cover by The Jam; and surely you're familiar with "Victoria," with its playful Hanson Brothers variant. And lord knows I'm not going to chase down links for "Lola" or "You Really Got Me" or the other handful of Kinks songs that radio has so overemphasized over the years they've kinda been half-wrecked... EVERYONE knows those songs, eh? And if they don't, they have a pretty good chance of discovering them elsewhere).

No, we're going to share some songs you might NOT know, unless you're a Kinks fan like me. For all you smokers out there - check out "Harry Rag." Drinkers, meanwhile, should spend time with "Alcohol," and tea addicts with "Have a Cuppa Tea" - my parents' favourite Kinks' song, which I used to play on a crappy little cassette player when we went on drives in the car, in between listening to my Dad's Fats Domino, Elvis Presley, and Charley Pride cassettes. I don't remember where I found a cassette of Muswell Hillbillies, as a kid - I was surely no older than ten, and seem to recall picking it out of a discount bin because I'd heard The Kinks on the radio or something - but I'm very glad I did. What a terrific album to start with this band (see also "20th Century Man" or - hell, every song on it is great, though its such a cohesive recording that none stand out as obvious "hits").

For those with a fondness for Calypso and Caribbean music, check out "Apeman" - my favourite Kinks' song in grade nine! (The studio version is a little more overt about the Calypso, as I recall). And for just really amazing songcraft, see "Arthur," off Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire).

One of the only things I remember from seeing The Kinks circa 1981-82 on the Give The People What They Want tour was that Ray ran on the spot while shaking up two beer bottles, then spritzed the audience from the stage at the Pacific Coliseum as they started "Low Budget," one of the best songs ever written about being kinda broke. (The other clear memory was that Davies joked that "You Really Got Me" was "a song made famous by Van Halen. I don't remember a single other thing from that concert, much as I enjoyed it.)

Cinephile fans of Wim Wenders' great neo-noir, The American Friend, starring Dennis Hopper and Bruno Ganz (an adaptation of a couple of Patricia Highsmith's Ripley novels) might recognize "Too Much on My Mind" as one of the songs that hapless Ganz sings to himself as the plot thickens around him.

Davies mentions in the interview linked above that Bobcat Goldthwait is working on a project based on Schoolboys in Disgrace - check out "No More Looking Back," off that album, a song that I have often returned to in thinking about people no longer in my life.

I'm pretty sure those are all Ray Davies compositions. Of course, his brother Dave is a songwriter too. Check out his "Death of a Clown." Here's hoping that the two brothers will someday reunite and tour with The Kinks again - I could not bear to put Davies through the mill of having to answer questions about that yet again. (I wonder if the dream Ray mentions at the end of our mini-interview inspired any of "Catch Me Now I'm Falling?" That's actually NOT a favourite Kinks song of mine, but it's relevant, and its so brazen in copping a riff from "Jumpin' Jack Flash" that it does merit a certain admiration).

The song that Davies says was inspired by a dream, meanwhile, is "Waterloo Sunset" - one of the bands' greatest moments ever. A live choral version is here, relating to The Kinks Choral Collection; the song also appears on See My Friends, where he sings it with Jackson Browne, though that one doesn't appear to be on Youtube. Both of those seem sort of biding-time albums from Davies, playing with his back catalogue, but I really can't say I object, since he does do fresh and interesting things with the songs. And I mean, who knew that hearing Jon Bon Jovi sing with Ray on "Celluloid Heroes" could be so much fun?

Finally, since I talk briefly about punk rock with Davies, check out two of the punkier songs in the Kinks repertoire - "Attitude" and "Add It Up." And since I mention Tom Holliston's fondness for The Village Green Preservation Society - an album I also admire, though not quite as much as Muswell Hillbillies - check out "Village Green" and "Village Green Preservation Society." Can't go wrong there (great live video for that last clip, too).

I'll leave y'all to explore Ray Davies' solo output on your own - look up Other People's Lives or Working Man's Cafe, for starters... And then go buy tickets and see Ray Davies at the Vogue later tonight. This is a rare opportunity to see one of the 20th century's great pop craftsmen performing live; unlike many of his contemporaries, he's a man whose muse is still fully-firing, despite being just shy of spending five decades in the world of rock (The Kinks formed in 1964). How can this not be an epic show?

No More Beyond the Black Rainbow, plus blog pause

Well, looks like I won't be blogging anything else re: Beyond the Black Rainbow. Other than a Chris Walter piece in the next week to plug the SNFU booklaunch on July 21st, I may be a little too preoccupied in the next while to write much. A friend is visiting, I've got work matters to consider (ie., finding a job), plus I've got to figure out how to live with the pigeons (the poor baby pigeon is huddled in the corner of my balcony while its stressed out parents rebuild the nest I wrecked; I'm going to let them go at it until the baby has flight, then I'm getting rid of the chair, scraping up the pigeon shit, and taking some preventative measures).

No bloody wonder: the pigeons on my balcony

I've been stunned by the tenacity and persistence of pigeons on my balcony this summer. I throw things at them, scream, squirt at them with my plant watering jug, bang coathangers on the window, even get out there and wave my arms and curse - because I've had to scrape up TONS of pigeon shit, and I don't like it at all! At best they fly away for a few minutes, watch me from a powerline, and return as soon as I'm gone. This got particularly ridiculous last week, when I was outside sitting in my black armchair, which I've had out there for months, and had pigeons flying in to land just inches from my head; they seemed quite heedless and startled that I was there. This has gone on for weeks now; today I discovered why.

They're nesting in the chair. They've brought in sticks, torn out parts of the bottom lining, and hatched a baby, who is now fully pigeon-sized, but still incapable of flight. I found him (or her), downy and huddling in terror, after tilting up my chair to investigate. I may have to surrender my balcony to the birds for the rest of the summer; I actually feel kind of bad at having fucked up their home, because I ripped out the lining of the chair before I realized that this baby is flightless. 

Jeezus, I hope I didn't scare its parents' away...

Two New Interviews - Chris Walter on SNFU and... RAY DAVIES?

With apologies to Chris Walter, whom I interviewed for Big Takeover online about his new band bio of SNFU - more on that later - the interview that blows me away at the moment is the mini e-mail interview I just did with Ray Davies, formerly of The Kinks! Davies plays Vancouver tomorrow night; it'll be my first time seeing him since the early 1980's, when The Kinks toured Give the People What They Want through the Pacific Coliseum. I've sent him some obligatory Vancouver microbrewery tips and a request to further speak with the man - one of the Gods of Songwriting, by me - but I suspect this is all I'm going to get. Still - how bloody cool to have interacted with RAY DAVIES! Previous thoughts on The Kinks' catalogue here. See you at the Vogue tomorrow!

Melvins Lite Sunday!

I saw the Melvins at least three times in the early years, back when they would play the Cruel Elephant on Granville; even saw them with Lorax on bass, once. Can't find footage of those shows on Youtube but here's one from the same time period - a cover of "The Nile Song." They were heavy and memorable live, but I didn't get their albums back then - too slow, too spare, too demanding; it really helped to have them performing their music in front of me, like my jaws were being forced open and the music jammed down deep inside me. Aside from their gig with Jello Biafra a few years ago, though, despite having bought tickets for two of their last Vancouver shows, I haven't caught them since (ended up selling my tickets and doing something else both nights, for various reasons). Kinda feel like I really oughta seize the day and see these guys again, eh? Even if it's the Melvins Lite (ie., without two drummers)...

To monetize or not to monetize

Well, folks. It's been a long run on Blogger for a guy who hasn't elected to post ads. Everything I've done up to now, for eight years, has been done for free (or for the occasional guestlisting or other cadged perk). I have been reluctant to monetize previously because I thought it might change the way I write, or what I choose to write about, or otherwise impinge upon or limit my freedoms on this blog; and I like the idea of there being ad-free zones in the world, especially on the internet. Still, facts is facts: I'm unemployed, broke, and struggling, and I still seem to have things to say on this site, so you may soon start seeing Ads by Google on Alienated in Vancouver (if they approve of me). Who knows, maybe there will actually be some meaningful income generated?

Post-script: hm, I guess I may have made a wrong move. I thought by creating an Ad Sense account everything else would be done for me, and ads (and concomitant cheques) would presently appear, but I'm being told to do a billion things that I don't understand ("implementing ad code," with a how-to appropriate to Youtube: what?). Will there be ads? Will there be no ads? I'm not prepared to actually invest time in placing ads on this site. Plus I've already self-censored a recent post to be in "compliance" with Google's policies... Sigh. I should have stayed true to my instincts...

Post-script the second: whew! After having gotten nervous that my blog would be ruined or compromised by Ad Sense, I am amused and relieved to receive a note refusing my application. I've been rejected for having "insufficient content..."

A Bobcat Goldthwait addendum

Bobcat Goldthwait's God Bless America, which I previously reviewed here, has just come out on DVD and Blu-Ray, and I re-watched it with a friend tonight (from an actual rental copy, from a video store, which I will have to return on Wednesday; already there's a sort of nostalgic quaintness to the practice, with perhaps a smidgen of the feeling of seeing an endangered species while hiking). It holds up to a second viewing quite well, and seems quite a bit more self-aware about its "Lolita" elements than I'd previously acknowledged, but alas, watching it a second time explained why I ended up anticipating the use of The Kinks' song "I'm Not Like Everybody Else" on the soundtrack; it echoes a line of dialogue earlier in the movie, where one character tells another, "You're just like everybody else." While it's still kind of pleasing that I anticipated based on that one line of dialogue that that particular song would pop up, the presence of so obvious a cue makes it seem far less a synchronistic/ psychic phenomenon and more like an accident borne of my sharing certain cultural touchstones with Mr. Goldthwait. Any other Kinks fan in the audience might have had the same song come to mind, so I guess I'm not so special after all (Ray Davies really gives a remarkable vocal performance... I must track down what version it is, find a recording of it somewhere). 

By the way, this is a rather charming recent bit of standup from Bobcat, which contains at least one routine he adapts for the film...

The absence and presence of lightning

Photographing lightning is no easy thing to do. I have no idea how the pros do it. I tried once in Japan to capture one of the intense lightning storms there, using a humble point-and-shoot camera - I'm no photographer - and accomplished nothing more than shooting up a roll of film, walking around the streets of Ageo-shi in the dark; all you could see, when I got the pictures developed, was the night sky, the streetlights, and the odd drop of water on my lens.

Tonight, just before 4am, I was awakened from dreams I do not remember by sounds I did not recognize. I thought someone was dragging my outdoor armchair across my balcony - it was like the rumble of furniture being moved. Since I'm not on the ground floor, this seemed strange enough to cause me to get out of bed, somewhat startled, to see what was going on, but by the time I was staring out my balcony window, it was clear enough what I'd been hearing - a summer storm.

Most of the lightning registered as moving patches of light illuminating the clouds across the Fraser River. It was quite frequent, so I grabbed my cellphone. I stood on my balcony in my crocs (...so as not to step in the pigeon shit), underwear and Adstock t-shirt, cellphone sideways, pointing the lens at the horizon and clicking away, hoping that at some point I would just happen to be taking a photo when lightning struck. I stood for some fifteen minutes like that, trading up my angle now and then. At times it was like the lightning was teasing me - it would flash just before, or just after, my shutter clicked. (My cellphone makes a loud, cameralike sound when taking photos, that may, as some friends were speculating the other day, have nothing to do with the mechanics of the camera and everything to do with making "stealth photography" - upskirts on public transit and the like - impossible). Photo after photo and all I was doing was missing out on seeing the best strikes - including one massive west-to-east arcing, branching bolt - because I was looking at my cellphone camera at the time they happened. I tried shooting with the camera held to my forehead for awhile, so it didn't interfere with my seeing what was happening in the sky, but I fared no better. I shot a hundred or more images of nothing much at all, standing, then sitting there, because several times I had to pause to erase sets of 20 files each, to keep my camera in its high-res mode.

Finally I gave up and resolved to just watch the lightning. I think I must have said "show me the magic" under my breath - props to you if you get the film reference. For awhile I thought that I'd missed out on the best of the storm, wasting the experience by trying to document it. Then a massive bolt struck down at a slight angle, aiming more or less south, in the direction of Langley, from what seemed almost directly overhead. It was absolutely terrifying to see, with rumbling, echoing thunder rolling overhead to reinforce the fear; my body reacted in a quite involuntary way, trembling and shuddering and stepping back, an oath on my lips (if "holy fuck!" counts as an oath). Suddenly I didn't feel so safe out there on the balcony, with its metal railings; even if getting hit was unlikely, the sheer force of the storm was terrifying to behold - was really, really humbling. I didn't need any more dramatic examples of my insignificance. I said "Goodnight, lightning" and stepped back inside, and rearranged the curtains behind me.

Sitting in my office afterwards, going through the last set of pictures on my phone, I saw nothing that I'd missed. No lightning. I saved one photo of the parking lot and night sky just to have something to show as an illustration of the story that I was figuring on writing. I emailed it to myself - that's it above. Then I noticed that the time was 4:20. Well, maybe God's a stoner, eh? Neverminding that it was the wrong 4:20, I figured to walk back to the living room, go out to the window, open it up, and take one last photo of the night. This is that photo:

RIP Ernest Borgnine

Well, whatever the value of masturbation to human longevity, it is clearly not the key to immortality, however pleasant a thought that might be: I am very saddened to report that Ernest Borgnine has passed on, at age 95. He crafted some very memorable roles in his time; I remember him best from The Devil's Rain and The Wild Bunch, but there's not a character he touched that didn't make a mark. Still, whenever someone makes it well past 90 in good health and good spirits, the fact of their passing somehow isn't as sad, since they're already pretty far ahead of the curve; most of us can only hope to live so long, and be so productive. He completed his final film last year, The Man Who Shook the Hand of Vincente Fernandez.

All the same, Mr. Borgnine, you will be missed...

Adstock 2012: some photos

One wishes that more people in the community would come out to participate in Adstock - it's not like there are many free all-day outdoor festivals of music in Maple Ridge, and there really was a great variety of music on hand today - something for everyone, really. Still, the park wasn't exactly packed - though maybe the blazing sun had a lot to do with that; people tended to cluster in whatever pockets of shade were available. But there were girls hula-hooping, people playing games with balls in the far field, happily yelping dogs, the odd skateboarder taking advantage of the paved surfaces, and more than a few goggle-eyed toddlers running about in time to the music, their parents close by. Those attendees who did come out appeared to have a great time. Even Mom - whom I plied from her chair for the first few bands, to "experience life live," as opposed to through her usual filter of the TV, could appreciate the charm of seeing massively Mowhawk'd punk rockers dancing happily to Cornshed's furious Maritimes-tinted hoedowns - which even got her highly critical toes tapping (she could previously be glimpsed with her hands clamped over her ears during Anchoress' set). She was quite delighted by the bouncing, dancing conga line that Abbotsford band Rags to Radio led around the park and then the stage, and enjoyed the Jen Huangs (who gamely did most of their EP, Rango, despite one member having a busted flipper). I missed the Secondrate Rejects (sorry Jonny - Mom has to eat), and just got in from Nylithia, whose blistering thrash had a happy little moshpit going on the concrete in front of the stage - the first daylight moshpit I've seen since The Rebel Spell played Under the Volcano a few years ago. It's strange to see people moshing in the sun; I felt quite worried for the barefoot girl who decided she wanted to participate, after all the times I've had my own feet stomped on by oblivious moshers. I am now officially skipping our own local ska-kings Los Furios. With yesterday's bit of outdoorsiness and most of today spent in the sun, I'm feeling red and sore and in need of a nice, cold bath to make me feel human again. Thanks to Matt and Adam and Polya and all the people who help sustain the music scene in Maple Ridge! Looking forward to Adstock 2013...

 Anchoress

 Cornshed

Nylithia

At Pitt Lake

A peaceful moment at a place I have not visited for some time...

Time for Adstock!

Talked a bit about this year's Adstock - and posted a few cellphone photos of some of the bands - here. For those who missed that post, today - Sunday, July 8th, 2012 - is Adstock, a free all-day festival of bands in Maple Ridge, starting at 12 noon! An awesome, varied lineup again this year, and it's an easy trip from Vancouver; from downtown, catch the 160 Coquitlam express bus to the Coquitlam Centre exchange, transfer onto the 701, and ride straight to Haney Place Mall. It's a one-minute walk west to the park, if you pick the right route between the buildings - but I'll leave that part to you.  

Credit where it's due: thanks again to Dan (and Kyla!)

Tom Charity was kind enough at last night's very well-attended screening of Beyond the Black Rainbowto direct people to this blog and thank me for having initially called his attention to the film. In the interests of justice, I want to share those acknowledgements - because the film was brought to my attention by local electronic musician Dan Kibke (of G42 and Ejaculation Death Rattle), whom I believe heard about it through Kyla Rose Tremblay, who did the make-up effects for the film (interview with Kyla pending!). Above is a photo of Kyla making Dan a zombie for a past Zombiewalk... not quite sure who took it (though the Soska sisters were in the room at the time, so it might've been one of them...).

...and while I'm at it: thanks to Tom Charity for being adventurous enough to take a chance on such a cool film (booking it for two weeks! - Y'all have plenty of chances to get out to see it, so if you care about keeping exciting and innovative programming at Vancouver cinemas, get out there to check this film out, eh?).

Panos Cosmatos Interview: Beyond the Black Rainbow

Panos Cosmatos wrote back in time for me to blog this, a brief email interview. His debut feature, Beyond the Black Rainbow - view the trailer here- has its Vancouver premiere  tonight at the Vancity Theatre. This is the film that, against the odds, decisively places Vancouver on the cult cinema map, while having almost no visual bearing on Vancouver whatsoever (other than a brief glimpse of our mountains, I didn't recognize a single aspect of our city - which, "Vancouver Sometimes Plays Itself" be damned, is kind of refreshing in its lack of narcissism). It's also, as mentioned previously, one hell of a trip film.

Note: blogger is currently making me want to kill it - it's taken me something like three hours to wrestle with glitches to get this up in a readable format, so if there are still some formatting issues, please do forgive me - the new version of blogger is quite a vexation, and I have places to be!

Allan: Curious about the concept of the black rainbow. I first encountered it in "My Little Town," a somewhat obscure Simon and Garfunkel song that references growing up in the suburbs; the black rainbow signifies the failure of imagination, something I am well familiar with from my many years in Maple Ridge. Since the suburbs factor significantly in the end of Beyond the Black Rainbow, I wonder if that song has any bearing? (I gather there's also a line in a Ted Hughes poem - "to hatch a crow, a black rainbow," which was Paul Simon's source for the image).

Panos: I'd never heard that song before, it's incredibly eerie and depressing and now I want to kill myself... but I think it suits the generation who embraced it and a rejection of that mentality is part of the emotional undercurrent of the film.

"Black Rainbow" are just two words that came to mind one day and I thought they suited the tone of what I wanted to create. I like the old school exploitation mentality of coming up with a title and a poster and then writing the script. I always come up with a title before I write to set the tone of what I'm doing. Sometimes I even make a poster. It's a vibe to go by. A touch stone.

I decided to include the title of the movie in the dialogue as a nod to John Waters who once said he finds it hilarious when the title of a film is spoken within the movie.

Allan: I spent a few years in my early 20's doing psychedelics in the suburbs, so for me, the final images of the film are very profound and resonant: seeing the suburbs through Elena's eyes, how strange and surreal they must be, after what her life has consisted of. In a way, I could imagine this confrontation - Elena meets the suburbs, complete with flickering TV light seen through curtains - being the starting point for the whole film, the image you began with and always planned to arrive at. But I'm just guessing; if not there, where did the project start?

Panos: I had a similar experience. That was not the seed but as soon as I'd locked onto the 80s as the time period for the movie that image came pretty quickly. There's an image that appears after the credits that's kind of a key for one way to interpret the movie.

After my father passed away I became very nostalgic for a while. Yearning for the "simplicity" of an age gone by. I remembered how I had spent hours in the video store as a kid looking at the boxes and reading the descriptions of horror and sci-fi movies I wasn't allowed to watch. I'd come up with my own imaginary versions of these films. That was the starting point, to make an "imaginary movie". I'd had the skeleton of an idea for a movie about a girl in a sinister institute floating around for a few years and it just seemed to resonate with that concept. Everything else kind of bloomed from there.

Allan: I wondered if you could talk a bit about your father's cinema. I actually am a huge admirer of Of Unknown Origin - it's a shame it's so overshadowed by Rambo: First Blood Part II in discussions about your father, because it's one of the most entertaining, wittiest Canadian genre films I know. Since your film feels a lot more like a Toronto tax shelter horror film than anything shot in Vancouver - and since, I believe, that film happens also happens to have been a Toronto tax shelter film - I wonder how much bearing it has on BTBR?

Panos: My favorite of dad's movies is Of Unknown Origin. I can relate to its style and themes more than any of the others. I also associate it fondly with when we first moved to Canada and all my memories of that time. I believe it was indeed a tax shelter film. I didn't make my movie to look like a tax shelter film, at least not intentionally, but I did make a concerted effort to avoid it looking like a Vancouver production. I wanted it to feel ambiguous where and when the movie was made.

Allan: I've taken to describing BTBR as "the great Canadian trip film" - am unaware of anything quite so psychedelic in Canadian cinema before this - but for a trip film, the film seems quite strikingly anti-drug: Barry seems, through his experiences, to have gone beyond human limitations and morality (beyond God, I believe he says, which is, if I'm recalling, essentially what the title means) into a rather dark and only tangentially human realm. Am I reading this right, or am I perhaps reading my own experiences into it? Acid took me to some very strange and not-so-healthy places back then, and seems to lend to a sort of separation from "community values," leading to aberrations like the Manson family... are these sorts of observations relevant to the film?

Panos: I didn't want to make a moralistic movie, I have no interest in that. I tried to present the characters in as straight forward a way as possible and let the audience be judge, jury and executioner. However, there is a dark side to the drug and free love evolution of the 60s and that was something that I wanted to incorporate into the movie.

Allan: A film I've yet to see mentioned in writing on BTBR is Todd Haynes' Safe. Did it have any bearing? In addition to its recreating a very recent past, it has a sort of kindred antipathy for the sort of new ageyness represented by Arboria, though it deals with a later manifestation...

Panos: I love Safe and It's minimalist style definitely made an impression on me. I read an interview with Haynes where he said he came up with the idea as a teenager smoking weed in his parents Mercedes in the garage late at night. That's something I can relate to. The antipathy towards new age religion, wellness centers and homeopathic healing is definitely a theme that strikes a chord with me. You've lived in Vancouver so I'm sure you know Kitsilano, primarily inhabited by aging baby boomers, is lousy with wellness centers.

Allan: I'm a big fan of the insect photography of Ken Middleham, who did the bugs for Phase IV, Bug, and The Hellstrom Chronicle. I know you've acknowledged Saul Bass' Phase IV as informing the film - I assume that's where the "pyramid" comes from - but I was wondering if you brought in the stick insect as a more obvious acknowledgement of Middleham's terrific bug photography. (There's a great little documentaryon him on Youtube, by the way).

Panos: Me too. Absolutely. I'll check out that documentary today. Phase IV was a huge influence on the movie in its sterile tone, stylized framing and somewhat oblique approach to story. I just saw the "lost ending" of Phase IV last week and it was a real eye opener.

Allan: I don't know how much Greek cinema made an impact on the film, but Elena's photo of her mother - in which I've yet to see a trace of a human form - immediately reminded me of the photograph the children are chasing in Angelopoulos' Landscape In the Mist. What is actually in the photograph, and is it significant? (It looks like it might be a BC landscape).

Panos: Her face is visible, but it's sideways. I've never seen Landscape In the Mist. Do you recommend it?

Allan: I'm not sure. I liked it a lot on first viewing, when I was just sort of discovering films by Tarkovsky and such. A few years later I tried it again and thought it was kind of pretentious, strained and obvious. I have yet to return for thirds...

By the way, Adrian Mack pointed out to me after the press screening that melatonin, a hormone released in sleep and sometimes used as a supplement to help people sleep, and which triggers vivid dreams, is prescribed in the film. I don't mean to steal a question from him, but as the film is quite dreamlike, and as Norm Li has mentioned how his own dreams informed his decisions, I wonder if you could share any dreams that might have contributed to the movie. Feel free to ignore this question if Mack already got to it, though!

Panos: I have incredibly vivid dreams on an almost nightly basis. It's almost a medical condition. Some dreams I wish I didn't remember, they can fuck up your whole day. In the past I've written scripts that were drawn entirely from dreams, and sometimes I'll dream watching whole movies that don't exist. Black Rainbow wasn't drawn from a specific dream but I wanted it to have the trance-like, unsafe feeling of one. A bad one.

Thanks to Panos Cosmatos for taking the time to get back to me, and see my interviews with Norm Li (cinematographer) and Jeremy Schmidt (soundtrack) here and here!

Beyond the Black Rainbow on my blog and in the Georgia Straight, 2

...Okay, so that's all I'm going to be able to put online before the Vancouver premiere of Beyond the Black Rainbow, tomorrow, but both makeup artist Kyla Rose Tremblay (pictured above, making me a zombie for zombiewalk) and director Panos Cosmatos are on-board to answer some questions, so hopefully there'll be more to read here next week. See my Norm Li interview (about the cinematography) here, and my Jeremy Schmidt interview (about the music) here; and check out Janet Smith's Straight review of the film here (a most accurate and observant review, tho' I'd add a nod to THX 1138 to th' list of references). The film also got a review in The Village Voice a few months ago, and you can find interviews with Panos Cosmatos online here and here.

Beyond the Black Rainbow in The Georgia Straight

So Adrian Mack's interview with Panos Cosmatos is online now! Pretty fun stretch to get from that particular film to Sylvester Stallone's knife collection - whoever it was that said effective writing begins in places you'd least expect would smile on Herr Mack's craft here. It's a great article, but if you're like me, you'll be left practically screaming, "...WHAT recurring dream?"

 ...because I have this fascination, y'see, with recurring dreams. (See the Norm Li interview, below, to find how one of his dreams had an impact on the film). As a brief aside in my blogging on Beyond the Black Rainbow - I have two more interviews pending that I'm hoping to put up soon, though perhaps not in time for the premiere tomorrow at the Vancity Theatre - let me tell y'all again about my own recurring dream structure. In the dream, I'm travelling to, or have just arrived at, a town. In this town, there is someone I care about or for whom I feel responsible -  a child, a woman, and once - the only time when it was an actual person I knew -  my father, during the last year of his life. This person is in great danger; I don't know how I know this, but I'm very aware of a great menacing evil that is going to descend on them and likely destroy them if I do not find them and protect them. But I can't; I don't know the town, and everyone I ask for help has problems of his or her own that they want to involve me with. Each time, I am moved by their pleas and do help, but am aware as I do that the chances of fulfilling my own mission are growing slimmer and slimmer. Other distractions sometimes surface, as well - like shopping for records and just plain forgetting about what I was supposed to be doing (a telling variant, that). Whatever individual variations the structure brings, in the end, the dream always ends in failure and despair. I'm alone, wandering the town; there is no feeling of hope left in me about finding this person, who is likely already dead or dying, and I am very aware of my failure - though not so acute, since my mind has already begun to move on, to accept, to forget. All I have to come to terms with, to learn to live with, at the end, is that I'm less a man than I'd hoped myself to be. Ah well.

That's where the dream leaves me, every time...

Master Musicians of Bukkake Vancouver return

With apologies to SNFU, on reflection, I think the gig to see after Beyond the Black Rainbow on Friday is the Master Musicians of Bukkake at the Biltmore. Josh Stevenson, the sound mixer for BTBR, will be doing a DJ set!

Beyond the Black Mountain: Jeremy Schmidt interview re: Sinoia Caves and Beyond the Black Rainbow

Jeremy Schmidt's score for Beyond the Black Rainbow - recorded under the name of his solo synth project Sinoia Caves - is both stunningly effective and varied, ranging from unobtrustive proto-New-Age tinglings to menacingly propulsive Tangerine Dream-meets-John Carpenter electronica; it's one of the great electronic soundtracks I've heard, and makes me want to experience the whole movie at least once through headphones with my eyes closed - it's that rich. Schmidt's music interacts in fascinating ways with the sound design by Eric Paul, greatly enriches the images, and, notably, doesn't sound ever like Black Mountain, the rather shaggy Vancouver rock band that Jeremy plays keyboards in. Black Mountain draw on some of the finest moments of Neil Young, Pink Floyd, and Black Sabbath to make stoner rock of the highest order, with Schmidt on keys - check "Wucan" on Youtube for an especially cool example - but with the release of Beyond the Black Rainbow, and the cultish film geek buzz around the film, it may be that for cinephiles, Sinoia Caves will take precedence: because surely there are people who are enthusing online about the score who have no clue who Stephen McBean is. An unexpected development for those of us used to thinking of Sinoia Caves as a side-project!

With Beyond the Black Rainbow opening in Vancouver Friday at the Vancity Theatre, Jeremy Schmidt was kind enough to answer some email questions, thoughtfully dodging around a momentary confusion on my part (I didn't realize initially that the film had a separate sound designer - the sound design for the film is deep and musical enough, in an ambient noise kind of way, that I presumed that it might have been Jeremy's work, as well!). Thanks to Femke van Delft for having taken some very cool photos, previously unseen, of Jeremy over the years, unveiled, as far as I know, for the first time here...

Jeremy Schmidt with Black Mountain at Richards on Richards (RIP), photo by Femke van Delft, not to be reused without permission

Allan: I have tons of questions about the process of scoring the film! How did Panos contact you? Did you see the film with a temp soundtrack, before scoring it? (What did they use?).  Were there suggestions from Panos as to the sounds he wanted? Did you provide him cues, which he then fit to the film, or - I suspect the latter - did you work closely, looking at images, and fitting music to them?  How hard a taskmaster was Panos? If you could walk me through your early involvement with the project...

Jeremy: I came on board after most of the filming was done and they were on to the editing phase. Panos was using one or two cuts from a previous album of mine among other things as 'temp.' tracks. While some of the music cues were just blank, I remember one longer sequence had some really amazing avant-garde kind of minimal choral music, and I wasn't quite sure how to make something as effective in its place...! Panos and I got along well because we're both kind of bloody minded with regards to how we set about making things and I think that we both appreciated how our very specific aesthetics could mesh well on this project. I think we established a rapport early on, based on a mutual appreciation for some of the key touchstones and reference points within the film. In terms of the production of the score, I was pretty much left to my own devices, but I think because the kind of music I'd already done in the past was inherently analogous to the vibe Panos was going for with the film, it allowed things to take shape pretty naturally. I remember at the end of our first meeting at the editing suite Panos said to me, almost as an afterthought, that the movie takes place in 1983, and I said well that's good, because a lot of the music I tend to make is often set around then also. This was kind of indicative of our ensuing collaboration.

Allan: What gear did you use? I’m under the impression that you’re an old-school analog synth man, but I’m curious if any digital manipulation of sounds occurred, as well…

Jeremy: Mostly Prophet 5, a couple of old Oberheims, Moog Taurus bass pedals, Korg CX-3 organ, and Mellotron... those have been my principal go-to axes for several years now... much of which also gets the requisite Space Echo tape delay treatment. Everything was done in a fairly archaic, lo-tech fashion by today's standards - actually, probably even by the standards of about 25 years ago..!

Allan: I know Joshua Stevenson and you have collaborated in the analog synth project BCVCO - I saw you play with them at the Western Front - and I see he was involved in the film, as well, as a mixer. How closely did you work together? I’m not entirely clear on the relationship between the soundtrack composer and the music mixer, when it comes to scoring a film - can you elaborate on it? Were other people involved (Panos? the editor?).

Jeremy:Josh has been a musical ally and collaborator with me over the years, and I felt pretty comfortable cinching up the mixes with him, and he also knows a lot about what I'm after. Mixing was kind of just to finesse things a bit sonically with some EQ, compression, et cetera, and also to put things into subgroups - for example, all the bass register in one stereo channel, an arpeggiating synth pulse on another, a melody line on another and so on, so that the sound editor could take elements in and out of the mix to fit with the picture edit, but not so much so that the music could be disassembled to a point where I wouldn't be happy with it.

Jeremy Schmidt with BCVCO at the Western Front, photo by Femke van Delft, not to be reused without permission

Allan: Do you have your own favourite film soundtracks that inspired or guided you, either in scoring this film, or in thinking about how sound and images interact? Tangerine Dream's Sorcerer, maybe? John Carpenter? Did Panos ever say things like, “Okay, I want this bit to sound like Vangelis’ Blade Runner score, and then this…”

Jeremy: Vangelis' Blade Runner soundtrack is amazing, and yeah, I love Tangerine Dream. Sorcerer is great. Risky Business seems to be an ever-regenerative source of influence for me also...! And of course I absolutely love John Carpenter. I wanted to incorporate that kind of classic synthesizer 'pulse' as a definitive motif within the film, but for certain cues, I wanted to take things into a more atonal, drifting realm, and I suppose some of that was influenced a bit by experimental/modern stuff like Ligeti, or Penderecki's pieces used on The Shining soundtrack for example. Also some Sunn 0))) and Popul Vuh whom I also love... the list kind of goes on exponentially, so I'll just leave it there!

Allan: During the credits - the “trip into the eyeball” - it sounds like voices are being used. Are these manipulated samples or entirely synthesized? I assume no actual singers were used...

Jeremy: Originally that sequence was set to a live version of Pink Floyd's "Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun" so I wanted to do something similarly mantra and/or chant-like, but still maintain that static synthesizer pulse that appears throughout the film. All those "voice" parts were done using a Mellotron. It's the "boys choir" sound, and I was changing the speed of the tape on different parts to adjust the timbres, if that makes any sense. I like how mechanical, yet fluid the characteristics of the Mellotron can be - definitely one of my favourite musical instruments of all time.

Allan: Are there any subliminal things included in the soundtrack - the use of low or high frequencies, for instance, that aren’t so much heard as felt? Any "tricks" that might not be immediately apparent to the naked ear, or that might only be noticeable (for instance) to someone in an altered state of consciousness?

Jeremy: There is the occasional underlying sub-bass register that scrapes against the walls of an unknowable abyss, but you can't always hear the full range of it, and it often just manifests itself in the benign form of 'speaker rattle.'

Allan: Yeah, I noticed that at home (but not at the theatre!). ...so do you describe your music as psychedelic? Any thoughts on Beyond the Black Rainbow as an immersive, mind-altering “trip” film?

Jeremy: Psychedelia in one form or another seems to have always been at the center of my musical orbit, so to speak.. and I definitely see this film as having a very lysergic flow to it. It's long on atmosphere, with a kind of visceral photographic quality that I think is best "immersed" in, one way or another. The film does, at the same time, show us a very dark, brown-acid-flip-side to much of the ideology of the so called 'new age of enlightenment'.. as well as the Reagan-era landscape that lay in its wake, and it's not entirely humourless in doing so I might add also...

Allan: I would love to OWN a recording of the soundtrack for this film; are there plans to release one? (On vinyl, say?). Just a note - I don't really need the Venom song on it. I do listen to Venom now and then, but... I'd just as soon keep the experiences separate.

Jeremy: I'm working on putting together and releasing a soundtrack album on vinyl.. It may have a nasty bite to it, but no venom..

Jeremy Schmidt with Black Mountain at Richards on Richards (RIP), photo by Femke van Delft, not to be reused without permission

Allan: A few final questions. First, what's going on with Black Mountain, anyhow? Haven't noticed a Vancouver show in awhile...

Jeremy: We're trying to put something together for late August here in the city, as well as doing a west coast tour around then also.

Allan: ...and why the name Sinoia Caves? They’re in Africa, right? What about those caves made you want to name your project after them?

Jeremy: My grandparents in the UK had an old photograph in their house of the Sinoia Caves (it's in Zimbabwe) which I was always enamoured with as a kid, it always seemed kind of nebulous and mysterious to me, and I've always been somewhat obsessed with the kind of impenetrable surface world of old photographs.

Allan: Is Sinoia Caves officially just you? The soundtrack is credited to Sinoia Caves, but could equally be credited to Jeremy Schmidt, right? (Any reason you chose to give credit to your project name, instead of your own name?)

Jeremy: It is just me. I figured the music I was making for the film was synonymous with what I usually record as Sinoia Caves, so I just named it as such.. and y'know always looking at the bottom line, right..? shifting units..!

William S. Burroughs by Mark Richfield

One of the my longest-standing friendships is with painter Mark Richfield. Not all his paintings astonish me, or even him - I've seen him whiting out some of his own canvases that he wasn't happy with - but when his muse is fully firing, he can produce some truly remarkable images, such as this portrait of William S. Burroughs, his most recently completed work. The JPEG really doesn't do it justice; I've had the privilege of being stared at for several hours by it, and it's one intense, potent image, Burroughs staring into you and judging you, challenging you to meet his eyes, which just keep sucking you back in... I love that Mark was completely unconcerned when I asked him, on seeing an early version of it, if Burroughs' eyes were actually blue; indeed, what do such things matter, where art is concerned?

Beyond the Black Rainbow, SNFU, Douglas Sirk and Rainer Werner Fassbinder: a good week in Vancouver

Having seen it twice now, both times in altered states, I think I can now safely and confidently describe Beyond the Black Rainbow, opening on Friday at the Vancity Theatre, as THE Great Canadian Trip Film (or the Great Canadian Drug Film, if you prefer, though its not ABOUT drugs so much as it is ON drugs). I can think of no other serious contenders, actually - if there's been another such work of profoundly psychedelic cinema made in Canada, I haven't seen it (I don't count the works of Cronenberg as psychedelic, not even Videodrome; I suppose there's Reg Harkema's Manson movie, Leslie My Name Is Evil, but it's druggy in a more playful, stoner-y way, nowhere near as visually or sonically immersive as Beyond the Black Rainbow). I was reading in an interview with director Panos Cosmatos that Saul Bass' Phase IV, of which I hosted a free screening a few years ago, also at the Vancity, was an influence - it makes perfect sense, because every image has been crafted with great care (there are even a few insects in the film, filmed with all the care employed by the late, great bug photographer Ken Middleham). The production design is astounding, and there are various shots that are simply breathtaking, stoned or not, from heads that melt upwards into otherworldly skies to - well, the following is a pretty special moment:

Despite a  low budget and a relatively young group of people at the helm, Beyond the Black Rainbow eats up and spits out the 2001 Stargate sequence, placing itself squarely on a very slim shelf, with Performance, Lucifer Rising, Zabriskie Point, Stalker,  and other films that absolutely, fundamentally ought to be seen while tripping (marijuana is actually not the right drug here - we're talking 'shrooms or acid, to do this experience justice). It even consciously encodes a critique of the boomer trajectory (from LSD to Yuppiedom and beyond) in its text. Jeremy Schmidt (music), Joshua Stevenson (music mixer), and Eric Paul (the sound designer) deserve immense credit for the SOUND of the film, too - this would be a great movie to watch with headphones on; the music (and the room tones, which are boosted at points to the level of becoming a sort of ambient music in their own right) are as rich and interesting as the visuals. I don't know at yet if I'll be able to post another interview - requests are out there, but nothing is confirmed - so let me just reiterate, oh ye heads of Vancouver: not only should you see this film, but you should see it in as altered a state as you feel comfortable experiencing in a movie theatre. You will be very glad you did. See my interview with cinematographer Norm Li, csc, below, for more, and note that Norm Li and director Panos Cosmatos will be in attendance on Friday!

Also on Friday: for those impatient for Chris Walter's booklaunch for his SNFU bio, SNFU: What No One Else Wanted to Say, slated for July 21st at Funky's, SNFU will be performing at the WISE Hall in East Van, with the East Vamps and Left Spine Down. I had the privilege of reading a manuscript version of Walter's book, and am happy to report that it's really kinda great. Much as I've enjoyed some of Chris' books, I actually wasn't a great fan of his Personality Crisis bio, and only skimmed the Dayglos one, but he's really hitting his stride with the new one; it's one of his most enjoyable reads, filled with vivid details of the troubled trajectory of a great Canadian punk band, hooking you into the story of the Belkes and Chi and the various other members who have come and gone over the years, starting from how punk seemed so promising to a bunch of young ambitious music lovers growing up in the prairies, tracking them over constant tours to the peak of their success (which for awhile there was quite considerable) to their eventual diminishment and break up. SNFU's ill-preserved legacy - several of their albums are out of print and hard to find - is still kept alive by Chi Pig and his current cohorts for the faithful, but even that incarnation is probably nearing its last chapter, as Walter himself says at the end of the book (whether Chi actually does have one more album in him, as he told me awhile back at Funky's, remains to be seen). Anyone who has been meaning to check out the current lineup, or who hasn't been to a SNFU gig in awhile, might want to pencil both these shows two into the calendar. I never did get to see the Belke lineup of SNFU, but I've enjoyed every single gig of the current version that I've seen, and may well go to both of these. For all his health (and other) issues, Chi remains a consummate showman and an utterly sincere figure - a living testament to what is both profoundly inspiring and self-destructive/ self-defeating in punk. There won't ever be another Mr. Chi Pig...

Returning to cinema, what a great idea it is of the Cinematheque's to run Douglas Sirk's magnificent and influential melodrama-cum-social-critique, All that Heaven Allows, back to back with Rainer Werner Fassbinder's moving, unsettling take on it, Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. The latter is perhaps the greatest film about the effects of loneliness ever made - certainly one of the greatest I've seen; the story involves an older German cleaning lady who ends up taking a Moroccan migrant worker as a lover, only to discover just how little those around them, on either side, are prepared to tolerate their relationship. To really make a perfect triple-bill, I'd have suggested, instead of The Marriage of Maria Braun, to do the OTHER great film that lifts most of its ideas and themes from Sirk, Todd Haynes' Far From Heaven, but I suppose that's a film many people have seen, some without even realizing its a homage to Sirk's movie. All three films deal with the ways that social structures (including capitalism, classism, race and racism, and ageism) inform and imperil human relations; all three films have their j'accuse moments, and will make sympathetic viewing for punks, malcontents, and outsiders, but this is especially true of Fassbinder's version. His Sirkian melodramas remain my favourite of his films, and I also highly recommend Fear of Fear, Mother Kusters Goes to Heaven, and The Merchant of Four Seasons - other Fassbinder favourites of mine that are running as part of the Cinematheque's retrospective. Also, to see what Fassbinder does when it's Philip K. Dick, and not Douglas Sirk, who is acting as his spiritual guide, World on a Wire is quite a delight, anticipating virtual reality and films like Inception by decades... Some really great cinema coming up in Vancouver...

Viaduct closures, Strathcona, and Prior St. traffic

Thanks to Bev Davies for forwarding this clip.