Since the main point of this blog is to publicize the book, I’ve decided to suspend posting on this site until further notice.

I’ll be flying to China in February for a long Asian travel sojourn and will be back in early May. Perhaps by then there will be something definite on the book release.

I will resume the blog and start posting again once there is a firm release date from the publisher.

Thank you to everyone who helped in the creation of the book and in the launch of this site, plus those of you who’ve been stopping by.

See You All Soon!!!

"I saw a man, he danced on the breakwater." The prophet Elijah gets jiggy with it down on the lake front.

This is very old news, but the always informative and funny blog of  Lynn Becker hipped me to the new section on Chicago in films that the brilliant folks who run Forgotten Chicago have started on their site, entitled Drama, Documentation and Discontinuity. As befits the subject of their blog, they concentrate on older films mostly from the “Daley I” drought years of the 50’s and 60’s.

Much like the rest of their work, the new section is a fascinating blend of historical info and trenchant meta-commentary. I was so inspired by their fine work that I finally rented Goldstein (1965), the first film by eclectic writer/director Philip Kaufman.

Although the film falters overall (as fabulous as Kaufman’s later work was, his debut project was an amateurish aping of French new wave film), the parts are greater than the whole and it functions as a valuable record of several important Chicago persons, places, and things (yes, a celebration of the noun!). Aside from the buildings and locations, Goldstein showcases some of the most talented actors and performers ever to call Chicago home, particularly those from the earliest days of Second City/Compass Players.

Some of the buildings not mentioned in Forgotten Chicago are:

Block 37 before it was razed, sat vacant for a few decades, and became home to the current monstrous structure that occupies the land.

Soldier Field- What a Spartan place it was back then! With nothing but uncomfortable looking bleachers ringing the inside of the classical coliseum.

A shot of the now-unused spotlight on top of the Palmolive Building blazing away (you can really see why residents of the John Hancock Building immediately put the kibosh on the lamp as they moved in just across the street.

An amusing chase sequence through a large sausage factory was also a treat.

As far as some of the amazing performers featured:

Del Close- One of the greatest improvisational gurus of all time and creator of the long form improvisational framework known as Harold, which revolutionized improvisation. Charna Halpern (and later Del himself) used it as the backbone of perhaps the most innovative and eclectic improv theater companies ever, the io. The long form also revitalized Second City when concepts central to it were integrated into main stage shows. Some time I’ll tell the story of how Del scared the utter living bejesus out of me when I was a young stand-up comic.

Viola Spolin- Those people whose young lives were rocked upon reading Improvisation For The Theater won’t need to ask who she is, everybody else needs to do some clicking. To sum it up, she conceived the first games and exercises that formed the foundation of what we know today as improvisation.

Nelson Algren- Yeah, that’s right, Nelson Freakin’ Algren. In all his brilliant prose writing, Simone De Beauvoir exciting resplendence. Right there in his authorial lair. Nelson tells a story whilst the camera pans around his apartment, lingering longingly over his array of nudie centerfolds scattered amidst the books, photos, and awards. The slow pan of Algren’s books is a valuable document in itself (I need to go back and freeze it again and jot all those titles down).

There also were quite a few other early SC alums in the film, including Severn Darden, Anthony Holland, and Jack Burns (from the comedy duo Burns and Shreiber).

Goldstein is a wonderful glimpse into many aspects of Chicago’s past. Just let it wash over you though, and don’t expect it to make any sense.

There are many shots of this man wandering through mid-1960's Chicago.

Nathan and the band have been putting in lots of time in the proverbial "woodshed" and are on fire these days.

There are few things more exciting than being able to witness a band that has been putting in lots of hard work coming into their full creative power as an ensemble. I was privileged to see that very phenomenon last week, when I caught Nathan Xander and Witchouse doing an impromptu tune-up gig at The Horseshoe on Lincoln [BTW- Horseshoe is a very cool place, with kick ass Texas barbecue, a very friendly staff, and free live music several nights a week].

Nate and his mates have been rehearsing like demons lately; tightening up their playing, embellishing and perfecting their arrangements, and generally adding new wrinkles to their sound and song craft; and damn has it payed off!

They launched into their set before the sparse late Thursday night crowd as if it were a packed house, and after a few moments it might as well have been standing room only, the way they rocked it out with unconscious abandon. They became one seething writhing mass of musical asswhuppitude (word collider) much the way that the greatest Americana bands do live, and really took it to the next level. Nate’s songwriting isn’t (quite) yet on a par with Jeff Tweedy, John Prine, or Townes Van Zandt,  but he’s getting very very close to that level; and from a sheer musical/instrumental standpoint, he and his cohorts are as good as anybody out there right now (including Wilco and all the other indie Americana heavy hitters).

These guys are my friends, but I’ll swear on a stack of bibles or take a freakin’ polygraph that I’m not just blowing smoke; I’m really blown away by how much they have collectively stepped up their game. Check out their new video (previous post) if you don’t believe me.

Nathan and Witchouse are playing at Schubas (one of the top indie music venues in Chicago) on Monday, November 16 and I can’t encourage you enough to go see them. Yeah, I know it’s a Monday; but if you enjoy hard-driving yet poignant Alt-Country/Folk Americana Roots Music (think Crazy Horse era Neil Young/Uncle Tupelo/Whiskeytown/Bottle Rockets) then you really should drag your butt out to see these guys.

I’ll be there rockin’ out like a big mad monkey, so say hi afterward and I’ll tell you a touching boyhood fishing story or something equally memorable.

Aside from the fact that it is a kick-ass tune (a real “drive around the city at night with the volume way up” kind of song), I really enjoyed the video itself; particularly the footage in Graceland Cemetery and the shot with the camera careening towards the weathered-faced angel on the Kimball monument (yes, the piano Kimballs-very apropos).

Nate plays around town rather often, both solo and with Witchouse. Definitely check him out if you get the chance. He’s a powerful live performer.

There's great fun to be had for the whole family at the Chicago Film Archives' Home Movie Day!

One of the newer film-related organizations in the city, the Chicago Film Archives has quickly grown into an important resource for all of the Midwest. Like many worthwhile non-profit endeavors, the Chicago Film Archives was created for a specific purpose, and then expanded its mission in order to fill a larger need. Started at the end of 2003 to save and preserve approximately 5,000 16 MM films that the Chicago Public Library was letting go, they originally set up shop in a donated space on LaSalle Street, but soon grew out of it. After a long search, they found their current home in a renovated industrial warehouse right on the river at 329 W 18th Street.

With climate controlled storage facilities, roomy freight elevators, and plenty of room to grow; the CFA almost immediately began looking to collect and preserve as many other old films as possible. Executive Director Nancy Watrous elaborates, “We started talking about the mission of the organization and what we should be doing, aside from just taking care of this collection from the CPL, and it quickly became clear to all of us that this part of the country needed a regional film archive. There simply was no existing place to take in, track, and try to save the films that represent [the heritage of] the Midwest. So slowly but surely we morphed into a regional film archive.” They worked out an expanded mission, “We take in films that either reflect in their content the Midwest, or that are made by Midwest filmmakers,” and other donated films began pouring in, expanding the collection to over 7,000 items.

A major part of the CFA’s mission is to select the rarest and/or most important films and submit grants on their behalf to the National Film Preservation Foundation for preservation as part of our national cultural heritage. Those films which receive grants are then sent to labs which specialize in restoration and preservation of old films.

One of the most fascinating and unexpected aspects of the CFA’s mission is the collecting of home movies, which are considered by film archivists and a growing segment of the public to be an important part of our shared cultural heritage. This has led to a fascinating outreach activity known as “Home Movie Day”, where CFA technicians and archivists set up inside a location (such as the Chicago Cultural Center) for a day long celebration of home movies. During the afternoon, interested persons may bring in their old home movies for inspection and evaluation by professionals and/or to donate films to the archive (they can also arrange to make use of the CFA’s transfer and repair services, which are done for a fee). Then later that night, the movies that are most interesting or in the best condition are then shown to large crowds which gather for a taste of Midwestern home (movie) cooking.

Which brings us to the fact that the CFA is sponsoring another Home Movie Day on Saturday, October 17 at the Chicago Cultural Center, 78 E Washington Street (Michigan Avenue between Washington and Randolph across from Millennium Park).

3:00pm to 6:00pm:
Interested persons can check in their films and make an appointment to meet with a CFA archivist who will inspect their film and talk about home movie care.

6:00pm to 9:00pm
Those who brought in films can see their home movies up on the big screen in front of a live audience!  David Drazin (a noted silent film musical accompanist who is also interviewed in Hollywood On Lake Michigan, 2nd Edition) will be playing piano behind the films for the full “movie palace effect.” (Which will really provide a dramatic context for that footage of Uncle Morty passing out in his mashed potatoes during Thanksgiving Dinner in 1961).

From those who bring in their footage, to the curators and experts who evaluate it, to the folks who just come to enjoy the screening in the evening; Home Movie Day is great fun for all involved. And it’s completely free!!! [although people can arrange for paid services to restore their damaged treasures]

For more information or to schedule an appointment with a CFA archivist call 773-478-3799 or 312-243-1808.  Ask for Anne or Nancy.

Special Effects Coordinator John Milinac's face may not be familiar, but if you are a moviegoer, you've seen and enjoyed his work many times. (Photo by Michele Wiesler.)

When I began my research for Hollywood On Lake Michigan, 2nd Edition and was looking for local industry people to interview, one of my biggest priorities was to find a special effects person to speak with. Lucky for me, I was able to find one of the best in the business, John Milinac.

Born and raised in rural McHenry county in Northeastern Illinois, John was always interested in making home movies and “little story lines” with the neighborhood kids using his parent’s 8mm camera. He got super 8 sound camera when he graduated from High School in 1978 and “it ratcheted up a little more.” All the while, he was trying to figure out an entree to the real film industry.

He and his brother tracked down the production crew of the Blues Brothers (1980), which was filming a stunt scene in Wauconda, and visited the set. “We managed to infiltrate the set close enough to start talking to people and figure out how to approach getting into the film industry, and it seemed like a pretty big task at the time.” Milinac never gave up on his dream, however, and the itch to make movies just grew too intense. This led to him moving out to Los Angeles several years later, “I knew there was a ‘Stunts Unlimited’ company and just guessing I thought there’d be a ‘Special Effects Unlimited’ Company and there was. That turned out to be owned by legendary Hollywood effects man Joe Lombardi (Apocalypse Now, The Godfather).

“I started making a contact with that company and talking to their general manager and over the next few years just became one of their nuisance phone calls.” They finally relented and hired John as an entry level employee and he moved out to Los Angeles in 1985. He worked for Special Effects Unlimited until his son was born in 1989. John and his wife decided that LA wouldn’t be the best place to raise a family, so they moved back to Northern Illinois and bought a home. Illinois was still an infrequent site for movie making, however, and John had resigned himself to the fact that his career in film production might be coming to an end.

That all changed when Ron Howard’s multi-million dollar special effects laden production, Backdraft (1991), started filming in several locations around Chicago. Milinac knew the special effects crew, and was hired immediately. Backdraft was the first of a new wave of films to be shot in Chicago, and John soon realized he might be able to return home to his rural roots, yet still work in the movie business. “I just had to approach the industry a little bit differently than if we’d stayed in Los Angeles.”

The experience that he gained working out west proved invaluable to Milinac as he was able to work his way into the local film unions and become a mainstay of the Chicago/Midwest crew scene. He’s now a top tier special effects coordinator, having worked in various capacities on over 50 films in the last 25 plus years; including Next Of Kin (1989), Dennis The Menace (1993), The Relic (1997), I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997), The Negotiator (1998), A Simple Plan (1998), Stir Of Echoes (1999), Road To Perdition (2002), 8 Mile (2002), The Last Samurai (2003), The Weather Man (2005), The Break Up (2006), The Lake House (2006), The Express (2008), Wanted (2008), and The Unborn (2009). He also worked on several television shows, including Prison Break (1994) and The Beast (2009).

The fluttering feathers at the end of Stir of Echoes, the frosty with the spoon on Nicholas Cage’s jacket in The Weatherman, the intense battle scenes in The Last Samurai (he assisted on that film), the driving rainstorm during the climactic shootout in Road To Perdition, the big cemetery shootout in Next Of Kin, and untold scenes of terror and mayhem in a slew of horror pictures; John’s work (both big and subtle effects) has been an integral part of many of the coolest films of the last three decades.

He graciously has given several hours of his time to discuss his work and career with me over the last year, but you’ll have to get a copy of Hollywood On Lake Michigan, 2nd Edition to find out more! We’re only here to talk about his most recent work, particularly on The Unborn. [Yeah, I know I'm a tease. But I've got to move some units and I can't be giving it all away.]

Much of the work of a mechanical special effects coordinator is preparation for contingencies that never occur; certain effects may be called for in the script that turn out to be too expensive for the budget, or the script changes and the effect is eliminated, or the effect itself is changed. On the other hand, John always has to be prepared to efficiently, safely, and inexpensively create effects on the fly which were never discussed. Perhaps the location where the scene occurs changes and they have to scramble to replicate the original effect under totally new conditions, or a new scene is written that calls for something completely different, or one of the other departments needs a rig made for one of their effects (John’s department also functions as the on set mechanics for anything that breaks down and “R and D” for any new devices or rigging needed by the lighting, electrical or any other crew on set). It is a constant process of improvisation and creative problem solving.

For The Unborn there was much preparation for more slime effects in an attempt to create an otherworldly feeling,  “We had spent a lot of our earliest pre-production time coming up with a lot of interesting slime effects- oozing from the floor, coming up from the toilet, or cracks in the walls– there were several pages in the script where it was a torrent of this stuff coming down stairwells, going backwards up walls-things of that nature. We did a lot of test shooting, some of it worked well, some of it didn’t.” Unfortunately, all of the nightmarish scenes featuring Odette Yustman (who played the protagonist of the film) wandering endless hallways oozing with slime “like the bowels of hell” had to be cut for budgetary reasons and the slime was really only brought out in one scene.

It boiled down to where the most economical place to use the “ectoplasmic” effects was in the scene in the nightclub bathroom. That’s where a full onslaught of slime and bugs and creatures coming through the walls occurred. John and cohorts designed and created a special set which contained breakaway walls and hidden slime faucets and drains. “That was a pretty interactive set for a couple days; with sliming, and oozing, and mopping it up, and resetting it, recovering it. It [the slime] was basically just water and Methocel (a food additive used in shakes and a disturbing array of other food products) and caramel color, just trying to go for a putrid look, but something we could create a lot of. We probably had about 50 or 60 gallons and we just pumped it wherever we needed it.”

Some Other Effects On The Unborn:

Upside-Down-Headed Crab Crawling Guy- John and the mechanical effects department were able to sit this one out. They had made tentative preparations for a trolley rig in case the person hired for the effect needed the support, but he was a professional contortionist and proved to be so talented that nothing was needed. Just a mask made to give the upside down head illusion and him crab crawling in various ways- reversed and speed altered. Turned out to be a very creepy effect for little money. “The less you see it the more upsetting it is, because you don’t really know what is up with that guy.”

Demon Possessed Kid Gets Thwunked By Car: Was staged in reverse order, “with the car and the kid right next to each other” and then the film was run backwards with an immediate cut to a stunt player (with a very slight build) bouncing off the breakaway glass windshield. Ended up looking very realistic and really gave a nice quick scare.

Demon Boy In The Medicine Cabinet Effect- It’s a staple of horror films, but is always effective if done properly (as it was here). A special medicine cabinet was made and fitted with the twisted writhing limbs and other creepy stuff, along with a small place for the kid who plays the demon boy to put his face, “kind of like those placards where you stick your face through the cardboard and have your picture taken.” Odette opens the cabinet, and PRESTO!!! Mutilated demon boy! Now where did those Band Aids get to?

Bug In The Egg Effect: This was perhaps my favorite effect in the film (it made me jump out of my skin) although it was very quick and kind of low key for a horror film. Odette is cooking breakfast and cracks an egg into a skillet when a large and creepy bug emerges from the burbling egg and races away. “I had a lot of fun with that trick,” recalls Milinac. Basically, he took an egg, drilled a hole in it and blew it out so it was hollow, “like you did in grade school,” then carefully cracked it open, inserted the bug with a bit of egg white, and sealed it up with a temporary patch and a little bit of wax. The actress was then instructed how to hold and crack the egg into the pan for maximum effect.

For the “cooking” part, he got a skillet and modified it by drilling tiny invisible holes in it, then ran air through those holes to give the illusion of cooking when the egg hits it. They did several takes with the egg being cracked into the pan and the bug scurrying around. Then the insect wrangler would grab the bug and clean it off (with the ever-present Humane Society observer to make sure the bug wasn’t mistreated) and they would start again with a new egg.

The bug itself was called a Potato Bug. “It didn’t bite, but was very obnoxious, thorny and prickly and difficult to handle, kind of like an aggressive grasshopper.” There is an entire industry of people who provide various critters for movie scenes. Since bugs can’t really be trained, the wrangler will have an entire array of various insects for each task required “this one’s a good runner, this one likes to stay still, this one crawls real slow” and use them accordingly.

All-in-all the effects went extremely well on The Unborn and the movie was well received by audiences. There has been no official talk of a sequel to the film, but as John mentions “it does have the classic ending that could move into a sequel.” If the amount of searches I see on my web stats for this site that ask “will there be an Unborn 2?” (not to mention all the searches for “Odette Yustman in her underwear”) are any indication, we should definitely be seeing a sequel in the near future.

While I had John on the line, I questioned him about a few other things; the first one being his thoughts on the remake of Nightmare On Elm Street which had recently wrapped shooting. There wasn’t a lot he could say about it, there being a rather strict understanding of confidentiality about unreleased films in the FX code of ethics (often enforced by legal documents signed by the crew beforehand); but he did volunteer that, from his perspective, this re-imagining of the Freddy Krueger mythos will be much more dark and serious than the original franchise, without the tongue-in-cheek campyness that Robert Englund brought to the role. This darker version has apparently gone over quite well in some early tests and the filmmakers are “very excited” about its prospects.

I also asked John about any memories or impressions of the recently and untimely departed John Hughes, since Milinac had worked on several films that Hughes had produced and/or written (Baby’s Day Out, Dennis The Menace, Miracle On 34th Street, Home Alone 3). While Milinac had very little personal interaction with Hughes, the impression that he got from the reclusive producer was that his favorite thing in the world was to be on a movie set (which makes his retreat from directing even more curious).

John and I discussed a few other items, but this post just passed 2000 words and needs to be brought to a merciful end. Look for other posts about him in the future, as he is very forthcoming about his craft and is generous with his time (when he has any, that is).

Learn more about John Milinac (and several other Chicago film production luminaries) in Hollywood On Lake Michigan, 2nd Edition, which is now available for preorder on Amazon.com and is slated for a November release (just in time for Holiday giving!).

Well, I was finally able to connect with the (incredibly busy) man and will be transcribing our talk and putting together a post in a few weeks. So this is your last chance to run down a copy of the film and give it a look see before I spoil everything by revealing “the tricks behind the tricks.”

Even the great Beethoven was apparently a mere mortal when conducting, even his own brilliant works; “Beethoven knew the instruments well, but was not really a good conductor. Later on, when he became deaf, he still continued to lead; but the results were so bad that finally the musicians agreed to follow the first violinist, and disregard Beethoven’s irregular motions.”

Something similar to this phenomenon is at play with The Poker House, which recently premiered on DVD. The Poker House was written by artist/writer/actor Lori Petty, and the plot was drawn from actual experiences from her own childhood growing up in Council Bluffs, Iowa. Petty has fashioned a brilliant and blistering script from her memories of growing up with her two sisters in a combination brothel and gambling joint (the aforementioned “Poker House”) where a motley assortment of junkies, gamblers, pimps and thieves gather at all hours to enjoy poker, drugs, and prostitutes; most notably the girls’ mother, Sarah (Selma Blair), who is deeply addicted to drugs and is totally in the thrall of her dealer/pimp, Duval (Bokeem Woodbine).

The action is all arranged to take place in one day (the far southwest suburbs of Lemont and Lockport fill in as 1976 Council Bluffs, Iowa), and illustrates the trauma that the 14-year-old Petty (called “Agnes” in the film) and her two younger sisters endure in their efforts to create an island of safety and normality amidst the horrifying and dangerous environment in which they are forced to live (basically fending for themselves). Despite the toxic home life, the girls take care of each other and all manage to not only survive, but to maintain good grades and an informal support network outside of their chaotic home. Agnes is even able to be a star athlete and hold down several part-time jobs, including one at the local paper.

The story itself is bracing, intense, yet ultimately heartwarming, a testament to the ability of children to adapt and function in the worst of circumstances and the triumph of love and creativity in the face of neglect and abuse. The problem lies in the fact that Petty, instead of finding a skilled veteran director who could do justice to this incredible story (or at least saving this particular story for her second or third directorial effort), takes the task on herself in her debut behind the camera.

Her lack of directing experience hampers the film in several ways, but it is her schmaltzy old Hollywood aesthetic that creates the main flaw of the film. It’s as if Charles Bukowski, Flannery O’Connor, and Raymond Carver co-wrote the greatest indie coming of age screenplay ever, but the project was given to Garry Marshall to rework as an After School Special. Something this raw and gritty requires a more realistic treatment, and Petty’s showbizzy flourishes and unfortunate music choices (except for the incredible recreations of old school 70’s soul) ring false and saccharine.

Sometimes when an actor directs (especially when other actors in the film are close friends), they become too acquiescent to the comfort of the actors and are afraid to prod and push them out of their comfort zones and into a better performance. Selma Blair (who was the victim of horrible miscasting to begin with) might have been believable as the girl’s pathologically self-centered and morally bankrupt mother, given a director that could have pushed her harder and perhaps even been a bit cruel (like Peter Weir supposedly did to Rosie Perez in Fearless, 1993) to get her into the requisite emotional place to most appropriately play the character in the scene.

Petty, who is close friends with Blair (and no doubt felt that Blair was doing her a favor by appearing in the film), could not summon that wherewithal, and Selma’s performance reflects that. The fact that Blair was playing a character based on a person who was not only alive, but was also someone she probably knew (Petty and her mother are now apparently on good terms despite everything) undoubtedly added another level of awkwardness to the process, with disastrous results.

Despite all my problems with it, I still feel that The Poker House is worth a look by folks. Bokeem Woodbine is tremendous as the charming yet feral pimp/dealer/boyfriend, and Jennifer Lawrence (who plays Agnes) has the screen presence and uncanny beauty of the greatest old Hollywood child stars, such Elizabeth Taylor and Natalie Wood; but also possesses the acting chops of a Jodie Foster or an Ellen Page. The girls who play the sisters (Sophia Bairley and Danielle Campbell) are also great finds, and Petty directs the children extremely well.

This film does have much to offer, it just could have been so much better in the hands of a more experienced “conductor.” Without trying to publicly psychoanalyze Lori Petty, there seems to be a disconnect between Petty and her true feelings about what she went through as a child (her flippant and distracted manner during the director’s commentary is particularly enlightening in that regard) that greatly hampered her ability to take on this material. * While I have nothing but respect and awe for what she has endured and been able to accomplish in her life; I sincerely wish she had given the job of directing her story to someone else.

*Update 11/2: UPON FURTHER REFLECTION, I can’t believe I was such a dick to have written that! I have every right to criticize her aesthetic choices, but no one can (or should) ever tell a victim of abuse how they should feel about their abuse. I apologize to anyone who read that statement and had an attack of boiling blood (and to Ms. Petty). As a survivor of various kinds of abuse I should know better, but got caught up in my own pomposity and really stepped in it.

I thought about just going back and deleting it, but decided I’d leave it up and strike through it as a “teachable moment” for anyone who might wander by- Please don’t ever try to tell an abuse survivor what their “real feelings” (WTF Mike?!) are or should be. It just ain’t right.

Made in 2002 by writer/director P.J. Hogan (Muriel’s Wedding, My Best Friend’s Wedding), shelved by its studio for several years, then released directly to the Starz Cable Network and then to DVD with virtually no mention, Unconditional Love is another of those gems which has fallen through the cracks of the capricious Hollywood distribution system. Kathy Bates (Misery, Fried Green Tomatoes, Fred Claus) stars as frumpy Chicago housewife, Grace Beasley, who idolizes a cheesy love crooner, Victor Fox, played with manic glee by Jonathan Pryce (Brazil, Pirates of the Caribbean). When her husband (played by Dan Ackroyd) leaves her the day before Victor is murdered in Chicago (on his way to a television appearance where Grace was to finally meet him); Grace is inspired to hop a flight to England to attend his funeral.

In a bizarre turn of events (few things in this film aren’t bizarre), she bonds with Victor’s grieving gay lover, Dirk Simpson, played by Rupert Everett (My Best Friend’s Wedding, voice of Prince Charming in the Shrek films). After arranging a comeuppance for Victor’s homophobic sisters (Lynn Redgrave, Stephanie Beacham, and Marcia Warren), Grace and Dirk return to Chicago to solve Victor’s murder and bring his killer to justice. This quest leads the pair, along with Grace’s daughter-in-law (Meredith Eaton, who almost steals the movie), on an odyssey through the bowels of downtown Chicago in pursuit of “The Crossbow Killer” (Did I mention that Victor was killed by a serial killer?). And if all that weren’t enough, Julie Andrews does a cameo that will forever change the way you look at her.

The film makes good use of Chicago as well, featuring the Billy Goat Tavern for an extended scene (more than I’ve ever seen), as well as long sequences in the dark and often foreboding underground areas that the Goat leads to. Many films have showcased lower Wacker Drive, but Wacker is actually just one of a whole array of streets in Chicago that have a “lower” version. Lower Randolph, Michigan, Columbus and numerous other streets, byways and subterranean loading docks combine with pedways and tunnels to create a vast labyrinthine “Underground Chicago.” And since the underground is where the Crossbow Killer lurks, Unconditional Love lingers there for a long time with hilarious results. The lower portion of the Michigan Avenue bridge even comes into play during the film’s climactic scene.

Now I could definitely see how this movie could not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it tickled me to no end. If you’re yearning for a comedy that feels completely different and has a sense of humor that is by turns twisted, silly, painfully clever, and delightfully campy (Jonathon Pryce as the Liberace-esque/Iglesiasish/Humperdinkian love crooner is worth the price of admission in itself), Unconditional Love will definitely float your boat.

Things Falling Apart (a full Arkestra for this one night). Photo by Miranda Barnes.

Please join me for a Pompous, Long Winded Digression:

I’ve seen many things in my day… ATTACK SHIPS ON FIRE OFF THE SHOULDER OF ORION!

Oops, sorry. Just a brief, “Rutger Hauer in Blade Runner” moment there.

What I meant is that I have seen many live concerts, shows and performances of all types, genres, subgenres, and subgenretypes (yes the Word Collider is up and running) in my many years of seeking out new and bizarre forms of expression (pretty much since birth).

From shows in people’s garages and basements to the arenas, concert halls, gin joints, art galleries, theaters and outdoor music sheds of the Midwest; I’ve wandered, searched and even lurked in order satisfy my jones for those events which blur the boundaries created by all these illusory and arbitrary distinctions placed between forms of artistic expression and provide a transcendent improvised live experience.

Gil-Scott Heron in a tiny elementary school auditorium, the Art Ensemble of Chicago at the UW-M Student Union, a collective from Kansas City called BCR (formed many years ago by a bunch of brilliant music students who hung out with Sun Ra and Arkestra for a life changing week) at some KC art gallery, Magic Slim and the Teardrops at a club in Madison whose name escapes me, Tom Waits at the Chicago Theater, Johnny Griffin at the Jazz Showcase; I could name check/drop forever about all the performances I’ve seen (not that I’m alone in this sort of thing, I’m just giving you a baseline here) where, for a brief moment, a level of perceptive transcendence was achieved by all parties (audience and performers alike) and time seemed to stop as everyone was inexorably drawn into the moment.

I’ve also spent much effort throughout my life seeking out musical groups who do not concern themselves with adhering to conventions about genre or style; any musical instrument may be used and any musical style can be employed to achieve the specific sonic landscape desired. If that means mixing electronic samples with doumbek, tabla, cello, bassoon, and slide guitar (or some other equally unconventional assemblage) in a stylistic bouillabaisse, so be it.

It used to be much harder for me to find bands like that (at least ones that were really excellent). But with the continued globalization of musical styles, plus a few generations who were raised on the infinite cultural/musical/artistic buffet that is the internet and trained in the myriad of art and music schools and conservatories throughout the land; eclectic and well executed improvised music is almost ridiculously simple to find. Especially in Chicago, which has become a global hotbed of it in recent years.

It’s gotten so easy, in fact, that one can find three incredibly adept improvised avant garde music ensembles in one place on the same night; not to mention two ass kicking art rock bands.

Now I’ll admit that I’m hardly coming from an objective place, having been a participant in the proceedings and counting several of the musicians as my friend, but I would never give praise I felt wasn’t deserved.

So with that caveat, I’ll just come out and say it: I saw the future of music on that Saturday night (during the anniversary of Woodstock, no less), and the future is in great hands. I also saw that the true values of Woodstock (peace, love, community, and infinite creativity) are still alive and well and being advanced with much greater care and understanding than they were by the original Woodstock Generation. [OH, shut your overbearing whiny pie holes, you smug self-satisfied Baby Boomers!!! I'm not saying that anyone played geetar as great as Hendrix or was as groovy as Country Joe and the Fish or anything like that, I'm just saying that these kids are more committed to the actual values (in a "how you live your life" kind of way) espoused during the Almighty 60's, and are also conducting themselves in a slightly more sensible fashion. OK? Now take your Cialis and get back in the bathtubs!]

Now that I’ve gone on a self-aggrandizing tangent, thrown down a generational gauntlet, and hyped things up to a fever pitch; let us return to my account of the proceedings (the lineup was slightly different than the poster due to cancellations and replacements), since in 20 years you’re all going to pretend you were there anyway (Yeah, I said it!):

I really wish I’d been able to see more of the set by Origin of Animal, a constantly fluctuating collective of musicians dedicated to unique sound craft. Unfortunately, I was getting wound up for my own show and couldn’t allow myself to get sucked into their performance, as much as I would have liked to. The small portion viewed (with the rest heard through open windows) was astounding, a large group of musicians with a dazzling variety of instruments artfully improvising to create a unique musical experience, and succeeding extremely well. Just the sort of thing that gets my mojo flowing. I need to see them again real soon in a situation where I can really let go and lose myself in their music.

I also missed much of the set of my good friends Cousin Bones, a crazy blues poetry roadhouse punk ensemble, who were bringing it in a way that I hadn’t seen before. Dropping the ironic distance that occasionally hampers their work and kicking out the jams in a fierce fashion, front man Wes Heine and his posse blew the roof off the joint and brought the already overheated crowd to a fever pitch. So much so that I was wondering how the hell I was going to follow that rock and roll asswhuppin’ with my puny little words.

But I did my thing and folks seemed to dig it (see previous posting).

Then it was time for Things Falling Apart. First, some background info generously provided to me by the band’s founder, Bob Aspatore. Things Falling Apart began about 7 years ago as Bob’s solo project, for which he brought in Brandon Welch as a collaborator. Things went very well and the duo expanded the lineup to six musicians and began in earnest as a musical assemblage. The lineup changed a little over the next several years, but they remained a six piece until last November, when a bit of “intraband turmoil” resulted in the number dropping to a core of four musicians.

Further turmoil at a show later that month caused the remaining members to go on “indefinite hiatus,” and the future of Things Falling Apart looked dim [In Bob's words, "I say 'indefinite hiatus' because we were all too passive-aggressive to say 'the band broke up'."].

The quartet resumed communication early this summer, however, and began to mend some fences all around. “Then this show was offered to us and we decided to say yes. It felt right.” Bob and company then sent out an invitation to all the members who had ever played with the group to join them for this show, plus some invitations to several people who had become “honorary members” over the years. This brought the lineup for the August 15, 2009 show to a whopping nine musicians, all in the mood for reconciliation and reunion, and with the goal of creating a one time only musical event.

And what an event it was. Concerned mainly with their own artistic goals, the musicians took up residence on the stage (which had seemed pretty big until that point) in a configuration which almost resembled that of a traditional Irish séssion (where the players all sit facing each other in a circle with their backs to the audience) and settled in.

If you’ve never experienced improvised instrumental music of this strain (bands like Tortoise, La Makita Soma, Mono, Explosions In The Sky, Electralane, Canyon, etc. etc.– there are several who till this fertile soil); it usually starts a bit soft and mellow as a few players begin to play a simple melody and/or chord progression, then gets more complex and involved as more of the musicians weave their way into the tapestry, eventually building to a series of crescendos which can last for an extremely long time, depending on the inventiveness of the ensemble.

This particular conglomeration of players was particularly inventive and in an especially intense place, so the audience was taken on an incredible ride. This trip was made even more surreal by an atmospheric fog machine and the mind blowing graphic designs of video artist Matt Jensen, which were being projected onto various surfaces throughout the space. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the nonet of improvisers brought everyone along with them into a sublime state of sonic inundation, one as powerful as any I have ever experienced (not like the Art Ensemble of Chicago show at UW-M, where I started hallucinating when I wasn’t even on anything, but even they were never able to do that again for me).

Yes, I was very receptive to a musical epiphany, having just had my own great performance experience and being more than a little bit buzzed by that point; but I could have walked into that room off the street sober as a judge and still been blown away by the improvisational skills and musicianship of that particular aggregation of troubadours. Things Falling Apart rocked my world that evening. I also got a copy of their 2005 album, As Above-So Below, which I’ve been listening to constantly for the past several days, so it wasn’t just a one time thing. [It's almost embarrassing to rave about something this much, but I've got to call it like I feel it.]

Fortunately, the End of Times show felt so good for them that Things Falling Apart will be returning to regular playing/recording as a four piece, with an open invitation to the rest of the former and honorary members who can make it for live shows. “Thus, a new line-up with every show, a unique performance of every song. All the wonderful sweaty nervous moments that come with the unpredictability of live shows and not really knowing how to get to the end, just that you need to get to the end.”

Hooray, Hooray.

Matrameru was more than up to the task of following Things Fall Apart, being of the same eclectic improvisational ilk with the added aspects of intense visionary spoken word coupled with electronic/hip hop influences. Leader Georg Garret really knows how to bring the shamanism and the lilting cadence of his powerful voice glides above the mellifluous roar of the instrumental/electronic soundscapes created by his talented cohorts, most notably multi-instrumentalist Luc Sequiera, who at one point even hopped over to the enormous pipe organ and started working it like Sun Ra meets Captain Nemo, the whole ensemble incorporating it into the piece as if they always dragged a two ton Christ Calliope around with them to gigs.

The night was closed out by Donoma, who I’d seen before and are one of my favorite young bands (and not just because I know and really dig them all). If I were going to glibly describe them as a drink (which it seems that I am), the recipe would be- One Part Flaming Lips, One Part PJ Harvey, with a splash of Portishead and a twist of Cocteau Twins. They are still growing and gelling as a creative unit, and I really like the brand of shamanistic swampfunk progpunk (there goes that Word Collider again!) that these kids are brewing. They had been busting their asses all night making the event flow smoothly and still managed to summon up the mojo to bring the rock and roll with authority, overcoming distractions and technical difficulties to kick out some serious jams and end the night with a bang.

The show was followed by an open jam that was extremely freewheeling and fun; there was even a point where Wes dragged me up to the mic just as the musicians were launching into an intense bluesy jam. Several sheets to the wind, I started some improvised growling which quickly evolved into this Memphis style song cycle featuring some concepts that had been bouncing around my head for several years as a sort of philosophical treatise, but were now flowing out in a Tom Waits meets Thomas Berry meets David Bohm meets Arthur Conley torrent. At least that’s what it felt like to me, other people may have just seen a weird drunken old guy barking out a bunch of crazy crap. Although a few folks seemed to dig it, perhaps even the two slightly sarcastic Chicago Police officers who rolled in a few minutes later to shut things down for the night (my apologies to the good citizens of Wicker Park if I disturbed their slumber).

So there it was, all over but for the tear down and clean up. A wonderful night of artistic rebirth and musical enjoyment for me, one I’m still a bit jazzed by (if you couldn’t tell that already by my rhetorical “flights of frenzy”). I met scads of talented artists and musicians whom I hope to be privileged enough to work with again in the future, perhaps even collaborate on some sound/word fusion pieces.

Wes and Israel (who I’ll be eternally grateful to for the opportunity to return to spoken word) are already working on putting together another event, so keep an eye on this site for more info on that and several other endeavors that will be coming to fruition in the coming months.

Particularly the launch party for Hollywood On Lake Michigan, 2nd Edition; which could turn out to be a pretty big shindig. [That's all I can say for now.]

Donoma closed the show with authority.