Shine: A Critical Commentary Part II

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

Credit must be given to Newman, who has unearthed this recent interview with Chris Dane Owens. I'm not quite sure whether it answers questions or takes us further down the rabbit hole. Regardless, take note how Owens exhorts us to "attach [our] own meaning to it" (this does not mean, however, that I did not feel a tinge of smug satisfaction when he verified my resurrection theory, but more on this anon).

We left off with Chris and Virtuous Babe's romantic interlude cut short by the arrival of a squadron of dragons. In apparent response to this imminent threat, a blade hath been forged.

Judging by the regal and pregnant visage of the lead Witch, this is no simple giveaway. No, something is required of Chris if he is to wield this broadsword (or is it a rapier?). Following a close inspection of the blade, Chris deems it suitable, and we get a brief shot of him slashing about, i.e. training. To me, the following is then one of the most powerful shots in the video:

His training complete, the warrior prepares for battle. His tortured countenance conveys both steely resolution and lingering doubt. Chris is nothing else if not human (we may have to revise this statement). A fleet of dragons, a Masked Villain, and God knows what else (alligators) awaits him. The drums of war sound. Our own blogger Andy found himself rather vexed at the interposition of these shots that seem to reveal a colonial aesthetic. Specifically, he leveled an implicit accusation of anachronism. While I can't deny having had similar initial sentiments, I've come to appreciate the variety of historical aesthetics that Owens employs in this video. Though the colonial gear might seem odd, notice how nicely it meshes with the winter sleigh, and how smoothly it elides with the more pirate-esque, high seas look of certain scenes. From there it isn't a long shot to the late-Medieval atmospherics we've already witnessed. I'd argue that the genius of the video lies in this very fluidity.

Anyway, let us move on to triptych number three:

Here are three members of what I will be referring to as Chris' "crew." The one in the center will be "The Captain," and the one to the right will be christened "The Lieutenant." Several things strike me as significant here. First of all, Owens, in a typically self-deprecating move, places himself at the edge of the shot. But I want to suggest that something more complex and potentially subversive is at play here. Note the suggestively unbuttoned shirt of The Captain, his enticing, even longing, gaze, and the disco lighting in the cathedral within which he is situated. What I'm suggesting is that this firmly homosocial environment seems to contain a subtext of homosexual desire. The central positioning of The Captain could be a manifestation of Chris' desire (if we are to identify Chris with the auteur Owens), while The Captain's intentions, as I've suggested, are visually apparent. Certainly part of Chris' journey is towards an affirmation of a heteronormative vision of romantic love.

At this point in the video, the "real" chronology becomes rather difficult to follow, because there is an effusion of dream visions and nostalgic reveries that appear on-screen. Thus, when we see the warrior Chris strutting across an ice-bridge, it is only through a kind of internal cognitive association that we find ourselves with the firmly antebellum vision of a picturesque sleigh-ride. In actuality, we will learn, Chris has gone to war at sea. But first we see the Angel bequeathing a mysterious tome unto Virtuous Babe. In this scene, my earlier suggestion that the Angel may harbor feelings for Chris should not be neglected, as this scene opens up the possibility of a sort of vicarious eroticism. What I mean is that by providing Virtuous Babe with this text, through which she can observe Chris' trials at sea, she is in part engaging in a masochistic urge to unite the two before her very eyes, while the possibility of Chris' death offers its own potential sadistic pleasures. The Angel's heavenly appearance belies a more sinister nature, as one can read distinctly in her eyes:

Moving through the magical text onto the stormy seas, Chris confidently pilots his schooner, aided by The Captain, who, giving the order with a swing of his cutlass, orders a fusillade of cannon-shot against an enemy vessel, subsequently igniting the ship's ammo depot, and causing an immense explosion. Despite these early victories, however, we observe the Witches actually causing a monsoon that ultimately wrecks Chris' flagship. We can account for this by remembering that the Witches charged Chris with a trial. His talismanic sword is to be purchased with a cost. He must be tested. And as the image of Chris swinging defiantly towards the viewer on a line of rigging attests, he will pass.

Careening into the water, however, and following a remarkable spin move, a washed-up Chris can be seen on a forest floor, not moving...

Part III will be posted shortly. And to be honest, I will almost certainly need a Part IV. Additionally, if anyone can think of a possible way to do footnotes in these posts, please let me know so I can avoid so many parenthetical remarks (I've been chastised for this by professors in recent weeks).

And remember, as always, LOVE HAS ENEMIES.

Shine: A Critical Commentary Part I

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

First of all, a big thank you to Mr. Beers for his brief gloss on Shine. It ought to serve as a fitting introduction to anyone unfamiliar with Chris Dane Owens' oeuvre. As someone who is both heavily emotionally invested in Mr. Owens' work and semi-professionally employed in the industry of criticism, I would like to offer my own reading, as it were, of Shine. I will offer a fairly comprehensive interpretation of Shine, and follow it up with potential critical problems for which I still need solutions. This is intended to be, ultimately, a blog-wide effort.

Addendum: I will not be regarding the lyrics as being in any way related to the imagery of the music video. If you can find some way to reconcile the two in any meaningful way, you deserve the utmost admiration of us all. Additionally, this is only Part I of the analysis - Parts II and III will be along shortly.

To begin with, Chris Dane Owens presents us with deliberate Dickensian echoes: "A Time of Darkness" and "A Time of Light," paired devastatingly next to one another. I think quite a bit of the critical confusion that this video occasions is a result of Owens' fascination with paradox. "Who are the good guys?" and "Who are the bad guys?" are not always operative questions in a universe as complex as that of Owens. At the same time, as if to taunt the would-be critic, Owens posits a "crusade," which denotes an undertaking inspired by a particular cause, thus inviting the viewer to engage in very sort of binary thinking already having been rejected.

Several gorgeous shots of natural beauty follow, and we soon encounter our ostensible hero, played by none other than Owens himself (with a mustache, so as to not confuse him with the singer himself, though I will, for convenience's sake, refer to him as Chris). Chris, delicately prancing about in a babbling brook, encounters Virtuous Babe, who finds herself enraptured with Chris after he performs a stunt involving his horse leaping over a log. In a scene establishing the rather medieval gender politics of our setting, Chris then chivalrously seats Virtuous Babe on his steed, and leads them daintily through the stream.

Importantly, note the brief shot of the schooner around this point - this temporal aberration is known as "foreshadowing" for those of us in the business of literary criticism. Underscoring the ominous tone is the diptych that follows:

The image is literally riven in two - an inauspicious sign to say the least, pointing unmistakably at a future separation. After more prancing, the romance is boldly subverted: Chris is braving a volley of ice-comets with only a shield to protect him, three threatening women approach bearing blades, and a masked villain confronts Chris and Virtuous Babe in the magical wood. I will return to the ice-comets later, but I want to first discuss the Three Witches, as I will call them.

Part of Mr. Owens' project, I would argue, is a feminist reevaluation of Tolkein. The stances and costumes of the Three Witches here undeniably mimic those of the Black Riders in Peter Jackson's films. But the Witches have an almost unfathomably long genealogy: the Weird Sisters of Shakespeare's Macbeth, the Fates of Greek mythology, the Norns of Norse legend, the list goes on and on. What tethers these various trios together is the power of foresight, often coupled with an ability to manipulate fate. Keep this in mind.

Exhibiting an almost obsessive fondness for medieval aesthetics, Owens then employs a triptych framework for his next shot:

On the left, our masked villain, shrouded in flames. In the middle, the foremost of the Witches. To the right, an unknown figure, but one who bears an unmistakable resemblance to Chris. The key here is that the face is superimposed over a graveyard. The sepulchral imagery once again gestures towards a gruesome foreshadowing. The Witch, appropriately then, is situated quite literally "beyond good and evil."

After a rather unsatisfying fight scene with Masked Villain (he is defeated with a mere punch), yet another mysterious figure it thrust at us through yet another triptych: the angel. Her positioning on the far right, so as to be opposite Virtuous Babe, suggests potential discord between the two. The implication is that they both may be vying for Chris' love and affection. Further complicating things is the following shot:

A mirror image of the Three Witches, it is absolutely critical to note that THESE ARE NOT THE THREE WITCHES. These are an entirely different set of beings with entirely different intentions and priorities. We are certainly urged to consider their relationship to the Three Witches (about which I will have more to say), but do not confuse the two. Anyway, the Masked Villain having been temporarily vanquished, Chris and Virtuous Babe are free to smooch in the wood and jog through the snow once more...though dragons are on the horizon.....

With that, I will conclude Part I. I'd appreciate any thoughts you have thus far, but otherwise, make sure to check out Part II, which I will post tomorrow.

Remember, LOVE HAS ENEMIES.

The Soul is Located in the Chest

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

I just watched this video, as first blogged about by our own Matt. This is mandatory viewing.

What happened? Did Chris Dane Owens just waltz into my life, reach into my chest, and, with much pomp, touch my soul? Is the chest even where the soul is located? Most importantly, could the fanciful reality that exists within C.D.O.'s mind pull me out of blog-sabbatical? The answers are: Providence; Yes; Probable; and obviously, Yes.

I'm finding it difficult to organize my thoughts, however. I think it's safe to chalk that one up to the schizophrenic cinematography, which has mind-scattering effects similar to that of heroin, fire alarms, or a Vietnam flashback. Let me be clear -- that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

At first glance, "Shine" lays siege to the concepts of sustained thought and traditional storytelling. It seems to synthesize elements from Lord of the Rings, Master and Commander, and Dragon Ball Z into a stunningly ambitious four-minute window. Despite repeated viewing, I was unable to connect more than a handful of frames into a coherent story element. The only "themes" that revealed themselves to me were a stubborn refusal to choose a consistent temporal or physical setting, and a recurring set of three women. And I was hesitant to identify the women as a theme, since each successive appearance places them in such a ludicrously unrelated context that any attempt to derive meaning from them was akin to putting my brain into a food processor.

Oh, cool, they're Dark Knights.

Oh, wait, ok, they're some do-good angels!

Ok, hold on -- a dragon-queen triumvirate?

Witches? What?

Futuristic Charlie's Angels? COME ON

With much persistence and a blog-wide effort, especially from Matt S, I'm starting to grasp the narrative depth and, perhaps, coherence, of this video. And so despite feeling, mentally, like Harrison Bergeron, let's set in motion the proper analytical treatment that "Shine" deserves.

Obviously, our first pressing question to address is: "Who IS Chris Dane Owens?" I could draw equal physical comparisons to Vincent Price, Legolas, and those ghost-twins from "The Matrix Reloaded." With a bit of gumption and some internet digging, contributor Matt N found an excellent primer to all things C.D.O. -- this interview with the LA Times music blog.

With this background under our belts, I would like to highlight a few aspects of this video that vex me. For starters, there are a few shots that seem wholly out of place. I'm aware that "Shine" attempts to create a genre-transcending, mis-en-scene-borrowing mega-world -- but certain scenes are just downright puzzling:

Is this a colonial drumline?

Another source of confusion (although perhaps my favorite scene) comes up at just before the halfway mark, when we're abruptly introduced to a Chris Martin-esque captain, who apparently detonates an enemy ship with a flick of his sabre. Questions immediately arise: "Whose ship just exploded?" and, "Is Chris Martin an ally, or an enemy?" (his questionable facial expressions impel me towards the latter).

This (above) suddenly leads to this (below)

As much as I love this video, C.D.O. has a frustrating penchant for following up his totally sweet scenes (and some of them are totally sweet) with lackluster shot. For example:

Sweet
Not Sweet
Sweet
Not Sweet
Totally Sweet
Incredibly Not Sweet
And we're back to sweet

Of course, the common theme of these "not sweet" shots is C.D.O.'s love interest. I understand that the power of their love is one of the main messages in this video, but I would have preferred that it was represented with the same passion and vigor as the action shots.

I'm confident that my brief criticism will be overshadowed by our further investigation of "Shine." After all, Owens has given us the greatest gift a man can give: the redemptive light of his chest-cavity (the soul?).

BREAKING: Blago!

Today the blogosphere (Blagosphere?) is abuzz over the hilariously corrupt antics of Illinois Governor Rod R. Blagojevich. Black nerd blogger Ta-Nehisi Coates at the Atlantic sums it up in terms we Epic Mailers can understand:

"Incredible. Blagojevich was already under investigation. And then he tries to sell Obama's Senate seat? I don't think I've ever seen anything like this. This dude tried to auction the Senate seat of the President-Elect of the United States. Wow. They haven't even invented a machine that can calculate the Fail Factor here. I do believe we have gone to Interstellar Fail. Intergalactic, perhaps."

If possible, I'd like to see Matt "Chicago Machine Politics" Newman give us an inside look at the insanity brewing in Al Capone's abode, but before then, I just want to be the millionth person to point out what an enormous bullet Obama has dodged here. Honestly, the whole process of appointing vacant Senate seats is shady as hell, and it's not uncommon to find pretty blatant cases of nepotism and back-stratching. It wouldn't have been odd for Obama's team to have at least considered giving Blagojevich or his wife an appointment to some post in return for the Senate appointment they wanted. Luckilly, they're much smarter than that, and word on the street is that total baller and personal hero of mine Rahm Emmanuel is the one who blew the whistle on Blagojevich. But before doing so, he made sure that federal investigators have Blago (who's every third word is "fuck") on tape calling Obama a "motherfucker" and saying "They're not willing to give me anything... Fuck Obama".

Said Blagojevich as he was arrested at his home this morning: "The bitch set me up!"

Is advertising sweet?

See other posts in the "Is this sweet?" series.

As has been mentioned on this blog before, I'm in marketing. I generally enjoy advertising, especially when it is particularly clever or informative. As a favorite professor once said, "good advertising doesn't offend me."

I don't intend to turn this space into one which dissects advertising, but has this ad gone too far? Should we be offended?

I get all amped about Psychocandy, stand-up drum kits and wayfarers, and then am directed to associate those positive feelings with high-end German perfume for women. No thank you. You can't even smell perfume through a monitor (yet?).

This could simply partake in the larger indie-song-as-jingle craze (though the pure jingle is making a comeback and I don't feel similarly betrayed by any number of bands I enjoy featured in Apple spots and the like). Maybe J&MC just hits a little too close to home. Or perhaps my discomfort is not so simply located in that favored cry of adolescents nationwide, "man, those guys totally sold out."

I think I'm most bothered as a marketer. Looks like the folks on the Boss account at Procter & Gamble are getting lazy and don't intend to carry core choices about the brand across their campaign. Did you see the expensive pant-suit this woman is wearing? Are we really associating this immaculately primped woman in a city high-rise apartment with two of the filthiest looking brothers ever to revolutionize rock? Did P&G do anything other than listen to the intro and read the first few lyrics from 'Just Like Honey?' Who sees this and thinks "$60 fragrance"? This woman clearly cares far too much about the state of her hair.

Is this what I have to endure for J&MC to get enough money for the new album and some added tour dates? Does this mean that the Reids have become Dylanesque (soon to be Weezian?) in more than their prophetic musical ability?

I'm not sure, but you won't catch me wearing Femme any time soon.

THIS. is sweet.

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

OK, where to start? The lack of a coherent historical or aesthetic backdrop (pirates? Tolkein? 18th century London?), the complete absence of anything resembling an identifiable narrative (trust me, I've watched this about 25 times, and still can't figure out what the floating skeletons with fire inside their ribcages are doing), the mustache, the obscenely enormous hordes of CGI dragons, the inexplicably large budget, the mustache...we could really create an entire blog devoted to the sort of hermeneutical gymnastics that something like this deserves. The only thing it lacks (and it feels heretical to offer even the slightest criticism) is Chris Dane Owens shredding a sick solo on that glittering abomination of his. That brief quibble aside, I think it's safe to say that if there ever were an objet d'art about which one needn't ask the question, "Is this sweet?", this video is it.

Epic Weezy?

Backstory: I love Lil Wayne. If you've been in a vehicle with me this year, I've probably played a Weezy song for you, and you've probably had to induldge me as I raved about "how fucking BRILLIANT this one pun is!!!" All told, I have over 300 Lil Wayne songs on my iTunes. Not only do I think he's the weirdest, funniest, most creative and most troll-like rapper ever, I also think he's the most prolific stoner alive (two summers ago he was averaging about 3 or 4 songs a day, while being, in his words, "so high I could eat a fucking star"). And while I don't think Tha Carter III is his best work (Da Drought 3 from the aforementioned summer of 07 gets that credit), TC3 will still probably top my year end list, just as an honorary thing, like finally giving Scorsese an Oscar when he made the The Departed.

In the last couple years I've grown accustomed to reading similar praise for Lil Wayne, be it from The New Yorker, the Times, Slate or Pitchfork. The general message of these articles is that as long as you're self-aware and somewhat ironically detached, you can be a white nerd liberal elitist and still have love for Weezy Wee.

Unfortunately, 2008 has just been too good to Lil Wayne. He has the top selling album of the year, he's up for 8 grammys (more than Coldplay?!), he's been name-checked by the president-elect, and his auto-tuned-out (damn you T-Pain!) growl/croon has been featured in pretty much every "club ready" rap track released in the last six months.

So what does this mean? Well, if we look at the precedent set by the previous "best rapper alive", it means Lil Wayne is on a Collision Course with mainstream white America. And that can't be good for anyone involved.

What I present below are three "covers" of Lil Wayne songs, done by sub-par to terrible members of the 'alt-rock' genre. We'll start with the worst:

Jonathan Davis -- "Got Money"

Yes, that Jonathan Davis. This song brings up two questions:

1. Jonathan Davis is still alive?
2. Do you think he has a backwards 'R' on his keyboard?

I would direct you to his website where the song can be downloaded for free, but that requires that you sign up to receive emails from, well, Jonathan Davis:

Framing Hanley (??) -- "Lollipop"

This song may actually be worse than the previous one, but I had to give them extra points for the video. The music doesn't start until about 2:15, and before that you get to witness an emocore version of Can't Hardly Wait, where the super-tatted dude gets his pool mack on with the Vanessa Hudgens lookalike. Their conversation is like a bizarro-world reinterpreation of the dialogue from "the Sweater Song". Actual excerpts:

Hawt girl: I come here sometimes... to hang out with some friends... it can get pretty monotonous around here.
Lead singer: Monotonous?
Hawt girl: Yeah, you know... boring?
Lead singer: Yeah I know what you mean... it just seems that you'd kind of be entertaining... from time to time at least. So... you bored right now?
Hawt girl: No.
Lead singer: No?
Hawt girl: Maybe a little... (cue guitar playing "Lollipop"... wait, wtf?)

In case you couldn't stomach the entire thing, I can assure you that watching a Good Charlotte wannabe scream "CALL ME SO I CAN GET IT JUICY FOR YOU" is just as cringe-inducing as it sounds.

Travis Barker and DJ AM -- "Stay Fly/Lollipop/A Millie (Rock Remix)"

We all remember September 19, 2008 as the day the music (almost) died. Well let's be glad those boys are still around, because they've made the only listenable cover on this list. Mainly this just stems from the fact that it's not actually a cover, and instead just Travis Barker being really fucking good at drumming. Also, this song begs the question, what does DJ AM actually do?

(ps, I just now realized that Epic Mail is about to have two Travis Barker rap covers posted in as many days. That can't be good.)

Now all this rock-rap business would be bad enough, but unfortunately, Lil Wayne seems to have decided that he needs to return the favor. He's taken to playing guitar in between songs at his concerts recently, and although I'm not the best at assessing guitar-playing abilities, I can tell you definitively that Lil Wayne cannot play the guitar for shit. This is about as uncomfortable to watch as a Middle School talent show:

In conclusion, I have but one thing to say:

If it's Weezy and Weezer we're talking about, maybe segregation isn't such a bad thing.

You done have to be lonely

Heard about this on NPR. Had to sign up for it.



Tammy and I are going to a Mud Bog next Sunday. After church.

Mario Kart Love Song

I don't really know what to say.

2008 Text Message Census: A Study in Inanity

Today, deleting numerous entries from the "Sent" text message folder of my phone, I decided to keep track of recurring messages, general trends, and strange occurrences (these messages are only those that occurred between the hours of 10 pm and 5 am). The results, in no particular order:

1. Anything to do with "the mack" (this includes "the mack is huge," "the mack goes international," "nothing can stop this mack," "mack attack," "British sculptress mack," "you have to see this mack," and the simple yet elegant "the mack"): 19 entries

2. "Sneak," "kriek," or "skreek": 5 entries

3. "L love you Dave": 1 entry

4. "I am lying in a pile of trash": 1 entry

5. "I said a ygbkmg": 2 entries

6. "Got em": 3 entries

7. "Jager bombs" or "Jage bems" (includes images of jagerbombs): 5 entries

8. Anything crudely written in Jerseyesque dialect (including the somewhat inexplicable "ya motha's baked ziti"): 4 entries

9. "You gotta sneak it": 1 entry

10. "Chub toad" or "Old chub toad": 2 entries

11. Nonsensical jumbles of letters: 2 entries

12. "Gotta do it" or "I did it" or "you did it": 5 entries

13. Anything resembling a coherent or worthwhile thought ("no its a right off of 14th"): 1 entry