What WHAP’s Listening To

Despite garnering endorsements from nearly every indie blog out there, the NYC five-piece known as TV On The Radio has never really caught my ear. But the band’s new single, “Golden Age,” leads off next month’s Dear Science with quite a kick. Below is a teaser of the song in all its guttural-guitar-scratch-handclap glory; head to the band’s official website for the whole thing. (And really, do — the Van Dyke orchestrics aren’t worth missing.)

WHAP Reviews: Lil Wayne, Tha Carter III

Last fall, Nas attempted to revive a faltering rap career with plans to name his newest album Nigger. The move garnered media attention despite failing to stock a single CD store with a slurred album cover, as the emcee was forced by the economic pressures that be to rename the disc this May. He left it untitled, and the record — a socially conscious, critic-approved study on everything from the presidential race to presidential racism — sold well enough regardless of its inability to send anything near the pop charts.

My reason for bringing up Nas is this: nine albums deep in a career that’s been on the skids since 2000, he still strayed far from bubblegum production on Untitled. A hip-hop has-been he may be, but at least he’s content taking a commercial hit instead of making a commercial hit — so long as he can present some deadly serious subject matter in the meanwhile. On the other hand, emcee-of-the-year Lil Wayne dropped Tha Carter III this June, his supposed masterpiece, and filled it with about as much gravity as the moon — a fitting metaphor given his fetish for convincing the world he’s not from this planet. Weezy’s sixth album and his third of any merit, TCIII is ultimately funnier than it is phenomenal, and it suggests that where other rappers write lyrics, Weezy writes punchlines. But after its 76th minute, one question remains — however antithetical to the posterquote from the biggest summer movie we’ve seen in years: Why so unserious?

The question comes up, of course, because even the most rudimentary detour into Wayne’s backstory suggests deeper, darker lyrical material than on this album. The New Orleans native sports a teardrop tattoo on his face, a watermark notoriously reserved for he who has murdered. His chest wears two scars of near-fatal bullets: one delivered by a fanatical groupie, one accidentally self-inflicted. And Wayne himself can’t be profiled in any magazine article without significant weight given to his weed-‘n-codeine habit, an addiction that addles his brain so he can cook up demented rhymes and addles his voice so he can sound uncomfortably raspy. But not one these things — none of which Weezy could rap without — are rapped about on Carter III, and in their place is an assembly line of well-assembled one-liners. It’s just like Wayne says on “La La”: “Wittier than comedy, nigga write a parody/But I ain’t telling jokes…apparently.”

What’s left apart from humor, then, is an array of this year’s most monumental hip-hop singles, and rightly so: each one suggests Wayne’s coming-of-age as a producer, and the likely correlation that people are listening more to what he says because they no longer have to wade through murky, unlistenable beats like those that litter the rest of his back catalogue. “A Milli,” with its ghost-scary, trunk-rattling, one-note bass line, manages three minutes without a chorus but is catchy enough to come off as one giant chorus. (And for a guy banking on your interest in his, well, banking, the million-strong who bought Carter III in its first week made a nice real-world remix of Wayne’s monetary boasts.) Then comes “Lollipop,” a song about head that’s really what got Weezy ahead, which matches mutant funk with mutated vocals. Better yet are album tracks “Mr. Carter” and “Dr. Carter”: the latter an impossibly funky concept song that alternates between heartfelt verses and mock autopsies for lesser emcees; the former an anthemic, old-school torch-passing between Jay-Z and Wayne. (Take note, Jay: Weezy’s seasonal metaphor alone — “I got summer hating on me cause I’m hotter than the sun/Got Spring hating on me cause I ain’t neva sprung/Winter hating on me ’cause I’m colder than y’all/And I will neva I will neva I will neva fall” — should have sent you back to the drawing board.)

Elsewhere, Wayne’s relative genius from TCIII‘s best tracks casts aspersions on his just-par work. “La La,” a bizarro children’s-song-gone-wrong, rehashes the similar idea of T.I.’s “Rubber Band Man” and Cee-Lo’s “Children’s Play,” not to mention Jay-Z’s “Hard Knock Life.” “Got Money” is just as uninspired, and a throwaway like “Comfortable” (produced by Kanye?…Really??) should have been relegated to mixtape status, if even that. Othertimes entire tracks can be reduced to one awesome line — “You can’t get on my level/You would need a spaceshuttle or a ladder that’s forever” from opener “3Peat” is one such case — or one great motif, like the slippery, alternative guitar on “Tie My Hands.” But for a guy so convinced he’s the best rapper alive that one of his best all-time songs is, umm, “Best Rapper Alive,” you’d expect a greater effort to be consistent.

So here’s the good news from an otherwise bad review: Tha Carter III is 2008’s best rap album. (Take that with a grain of salt, though, as Flo Rida is in the year’s Top 5.) As a musician, Lil Wayne is undoubtedly unique, ambitious, and hard-working enough to let some of his best work fall through the cracks into little-heard internet mixtapes — and that last fact certainly makes this disc a champion of newfangled marketing, perhaps a remixed version of Radiohead’s all-too-talked-about digital release scheme of Fall 2007. But Tha Carter III is not a modern classic; it’s just the most quotable thing we’ve heard in years. Weezy’s insistence on single takes in the studio sure makes his flow superbly enchanting, but he’ll have to take his own self serious before the rest of us can. It’s just like they say in the pizza business: even if you tip for delivery, you’re still paying for the product.

WHAP RATING: 3.3/5.0

WHAP Reviews 3 Movies

I’ve been trying to plow through movies of late to get a better handle on  the releases of the first eight months before Oscar season really hits. With Vicky Christina Barcelona, Hamlet 2 and Burn After Reading all on the horizon, it won’t be long. So in the interests of being able to talk about those in detail down the line, here’s three semi-quickie reviews of the movies I got through this weekend.

In Bruges — The film welcomes British playwright Martin McDonagh into the feature film business, as McDonagh plunges into the writer-director fray with this unique dramedy. The film centers around two hit men that have been sent to Bruges (in Belgium) to wait out the windfall from their most recent murder. While the veteran hit man Ken (Brendan Gleeson) is content with the wait, the rookie Ray (Colin Farrell) is intent to move on after a bad first experience. If only he was so lucky, as the boss (Ralph Fiennes) has banished Ray with intent. If anything from the movie is clear, it’s McDonagh’s theatre-yearned ability to write dialogue. Ken and Ray are developed beautifully in the first act, as we learn much about their characters through their witty conversations. Both are likable characters, even despite Ray’s malevolence toward Bruges and his current situation. A friendship is ultimately developed between the two, and just when Ray seems to be reaching maturation, Fiennes comes into town. Farrell and Gleeson act beautifully in creating this unlikely friendship, and both, specifically Gleeson, work very well in their roles. If only Fiennes, who is normally brilliant, had done more. The real problem with the film is McDonagh writes characters so much better than he writes plot, so the story lacks any sort of motion that it aspires to. We like Ken and Ray enough to care, but for a movie that turns from comedy to drama on a dime, we just can’t stay afloat enough. WHAP Rating: 3.1/5.0.

Be Kind Rewind — I wanted to like BE KIND REWIND from the moment I heard the premise. It’s a movie with a true soul, a movie about the power of a community to come together. A movie about the underdog triumphing with the support of common people. It’s about an old man who leaves his historic video store in the hands of young Mike (Mos Def), who is followed around constantly by Jerry (Jack Black). Jerry accidentally erases all the tapes in the video store, so the two hatchet a plan to re-shoot all the movies themselves, offering heartfelt, low budget, 20 minute versions of classics like GHOSTBUSTER. The community falls in love. But in the end, there’s just not enough emotion built up in the first two acts to generate any ethos for the third. In part, this is because Michel Gondry’s (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) movie relies a bit too heavily on Mos Def, who shows a lack of any real acting chops in a part that calls for a real connection to three characters. Jack Black is his usual self, and in a sense, calls back to his Barry character from HIGH FIDELITY. However, while Black provides all the comedy in the movie, his ridiculousness also detracts from any emotive quality the film strives for. Throw in a Danny Glover performance that is a clear mail-in, and you have a well-designed movie that never gets there. Also, I would be remiss to not blame Gondry for the film’s mistakes, as the French director needed to develop more in his second act. What could have been, I wonder, even if this is a clear improvement upon THE MAJESTIC, which I suppose offers a premise in the same neighborhood. WHAP Rating: 2.5/5.0.

Stop-Loss — When news hit about this film, easily the most compelling aspect was Kimberly Peirce’s return to cinema, her first feature since the powerful BOYS DON’T CRY. It was a bit shocking, in fact, that Peirce was drawn to writing a script about the Iraq war, a script that is so male dominated. The hope was that Peirce would again manage her protagonist so precisely, like she did with Hilary Swank in 1999. In STOP-LOSS, the protagonist is SSgt. Brandon King (Ryan Phillippe), who believes his actions in Iraq were responsible for the death of three of his soldiers, and the severe wounding of another. By the time the brigade returns to Texas, the hometown of King and boyhood friend Sgt. Steve Shriver (Channing Tatum), both are ready to end their duty and begin to lead normal lives. This plan is halted when King is told to report back to Iraq by the United States stop-loss policy, a backdoor draft that has sent roughly 1/6 of soldiers in the Iraq/Afghanistan conflicts back into duty. The movie wants to be unique and follow the bad politics of this program, but it doesn’t make it there, and is instead yet another film about the problems of young soldiers assimilating back into American culture. As she did with Chloe Sevigny in BOYS DON’T CRY, Peirce’s best character is the supporting female, in this instance Michelle (Abbie Cornish), the fiancee of Shriver and partner-in-crime of King. The other characters are written to be unique, but no one else seems to be something we have not seen before, most recently in JARHEAD. In a sense, I’m grateful that Peirce didn’t dig too deep into politics in the film — this isn’t INTO THE VALLEY OF ELAH — but ultimately, the path she chose to walk is too well-traveled to mark this as anything but ultimately forgettable in the lexicon of war movies. WHAP Rating: 2.9/5.0.

Next on the list: THE BANK JOB.

Summer Schedule

From the perspective of a TV fan, I do relish the summer a bit. While it means no new episodes of my favorite shows, it does give me the ability to catch up with shows in time for the fall season. This autumn, I’ll be watching “House” and “It’s Always Sunny…” on a regular basis, and neither was previously in my wheelhouse.

As far as original series go, the summer tends to be pretty nasty. Still, I managed to watch four shows regularly this summer, which is pretty good. Interestingly, not a single one is on network TV, compounding my theory that the nostalgia of “network television” is dissipating as good programs head to USA, FX, HBO and more.

Anyway, that’s not important, so with the help of Hulu, here are the four shows I have enjoyed this summer, ranked in order of favoritism:

1. Mad Men (AMC) — The movie channel launched a full-scale guerilla marketing campaign for their Emmy baby this summer, as advertisements for the show were seemingly everywhere. Here in Chicago, I’m pretty convinced AMC paid the Chicago Tribune to pimp the show for weeks. It did this with the July 27 start date in mind, offering an award-winning show months before its significant competition. It was a good strategy, and I know quite a few that have jumped on the train since the dynamic first season in 2007. This time around, things seem to have a darker resonance, and with every character, a nasty cloud looms in the distance. The addition of Duck Phillips to the roster isn’t one I welcome with open arms, and I am concerned that the accusations of the show being masochist have effected the storyline. Still, Don Draper is one of the most compelling characters on television, and this is one of the most real shows on television, moving at a pace that builds characters rather than additional plot lines, a decision I think we should applaud.

2. Burn Notice (USA) — It took me awhile to buy into this show, but with Hulu offering all the episodes, I did manage to get through them all. The show’s voice is relatively obnoxious, but I do like Michael Weston. At first, I regarded him as a character conceived from Dr. House, but that’s not really fair, as we aren’t talking about self-loathing, just sarcastic. The premise of the show is unique, and while the overarching plot is rather dry, the individual episodes play nicely. I like the character Sam quite a bit, and even Michael’s mother hits the right notes most of the time. The show is not without it’s flaws, falling into too many cliches and containing annoying voice-overs, but in the end, the juice is worth the squeeze.

3. Weeds (Showtime) — The first two seasons of Jenji Kohan’s comedy were two of my favorite comedic seasons since Arrested Development left us. Nothing on television was as unique as detailing the suburban drug business. And in Mary-Louise Parker, Showtime found an actress capable of handling Nancy’s voice, while also bringing a sexiness to the role that television hasn’t known for a long time. However, the show is getting worn, and in Season 3, Kohan realized a big change would be needed to keep things afloat. However, the huge nature of the changes have created a problem by itself, and the writers are having a difficult time keeping up with themselves. While the voice of this show — Nancy and Andy, particularly — are still the same, everything else is so different.

4. In Plain Sight (USA) — It hasn’t been, but it has sure seemed like for years, TNT has done the female-led drama thing by themselves. Holly Hunter and Kyra Sedgwick have made careers — Emmy-nominated careers, now — thanks to the TNT shows that center around them. It’s an underexposed style, and “In Plain Sight” is a show that heightens the brand. Mary McCormack was a nice find for USA, she is just good-looking enough and just funny enough to work. She plays Mary, a U.S. Marshal for the Witness Protection Program, accompanied with a best-friend male partner and family of misfits. The show is not particularly exciting or irreverent, but it works just enough to make it into my lineup in a dull season. I’m not sure I’d heartily recommend it, but I can’t really dissuade it after this many episodes, eh?

Forty days until The Office, by the way. 40 days.

WHAP Reviews: Tropic Thunder

As an actor, Ben Stiller’s career is littered with two gears. On the one side, is the unassuming unlucky, a regular guy that runs into irregular circumstances: “There’s Something About Mary”, “Keeping the Faith”, “Meet the Parents”, and “Along Came Polly”. The other side of the ledger, one that usually results in hits or misses from Stiller, is when he ventures into ridiculous overacting for the sake of laughter: made popular by his Tony Perkis in “Heavy Weights”, carried on in “Happy Gilmore”, “Zoolander”, “Mystery Men”, “Starsky & Hutch” and “Dodgeball”.

Stiller’s multi-gear ability is why he’s considered one of Hollywood’s top acting talents, and it’s why he’s afforded a directorial project like “Tropic Thunder” — a reportedly $100 million cost, aimed at one of the most unique storylines in recent memory.

However, frustratingly, Stiller has not had the same versatility behind the lens that he offers in front of it. Gone is our unassuming unlucky protagonist, and in is memorable hyperbolic characters like Derek Zoolander, The Cable Guy, and now, Kirk Lazarus. Clearly, Stiller’s preferred brand of comedy ventures away from his success with the Farrely Brothers and Robert De Niro, and more into Will Ferrell’s ridiculous low brow comedic culture.

“Tropic Thunder” is a practice in overacting, overdirecting, and overwriting, but it’s all done for the purpose of laughter. Stiller’s fourth directorial flick is his largest in scope, his largest in ambition, and ultimately, his largest in laughter. Stiller and co-writer Justin Theroux go to every well — no matter how cheep — for laughs, and the result is the most side-splitting I can remember at a movie theatre.

Simply, “Tropic Thunder” is the apex for low brow comedy, as Stiller continues the quest he began in “Zoolander”: to attack and expose the notion of celebrity.

The film is supposed to take place on the set of “Tropic Thunder”, a Vietnam War epic calling on actors from all genres of the Hollywood universe: Tugg Speedman (Stiller), an action hero whose recent attempt at leaving his genre to portray the mentally handicapped in “Simple Jack” resulted in the worst movie of all time. Jack Portnoy (Jack Black) is the white, fat version of Eddie Murphy, only with a chemical dependency. And then there’s Lazarus (Robert Downey Jr.), five-time Oscar winning Aussie, who is famous for his immersion into a role. For “Tropic Thunder”, Lazarus undergoes a pigmentation surgery so he can more accurately play the African-American sergeant in the film.

Things go awry when director Damien Cockburn decides to shoot his movie guerilla style, tossing his acting legends into the Vietnamese (or so he thinks) jungle. While Speedman does his best to play along, the others realize there’s far more surrounding them than Cockburn’s hidden cameras.

I’m not sure who is credited for the casting of Stiller’s film, but it’s clear that with Stiller at the helm, he deserves the praise for the talent in the film. Would Downey Jr. have donned black face paint and reduced himself to cheap racial humor for anyone else? There’s no chance Tom Cruise, known to be a good friend of Stiller, would have taken his cameo as an insane studio executive for anyone else. From there, whether it’s Nick Nolte or Matthew McConaughey, we’re just glad Stiller has connections.

In a sense, the film suffers from Stiller’s inexperience behind the camera. It’s poorly edited, and has one too many gaps to achieve it’s high-aiming aspirations. However, Stiller is an actor’s director, without question, and the result are acting performances that keep the film afloat. Contrary to other critical opinions, there is not one performance that carries this film single-handedly. Downey Jr. and Cruise have the most memorable roles, for obvious reasons, but every dog has its day here.

The first half-hour of the movie is a showcase for Nick Nolte’s comedic talents, as he’s brilliant as Four Leaf Tayback, the writer of “Tropic Thunder”‘s source material. Jay Baruchel and Brandon T. Jackson both manage to have their memorable moments aside three huge actors, with Baruchel contributing numerous memorable moments. Jack Black might dive too deep into Stiller’s overacting goal, but he also gives the most jaw-dropping monologue in the movie.

This is a film that never takes itself seriously at all, and is 100% designed for the audience. While I still have hopes that one day Stiller finds the versatility as a director he offers as an actor — can we ever see situational comedy from behind the camera? — he has succeeded seemingly as much as jaw-dropping, side-splitting, low-brow comedy can offer.

WHAP Rating: 3.7/5.0

Lollapalooza: Day 3

If you call Lollapalooza ’08 the best music under the sun, you mean it quite literally: this year’s Chicago-area festival rocked and rolled through three days of over 90 degrees in scenic Grant Park. And with a lineup boasting area faves like Wilco and Kanye alongside modern-day legends like Radiohead and Rage Against the Machine, some are calling it Lolla’s best year ever. I was there to test that claim — and I end today with coverage of Sunday, the most relaxed day of the weekend.

John Butler Trio
2:15-3:15pm, Bud Light Stage
Hailing from Australia, the John Butler Trio specializes in acoustic jamming with JB’s own rustic vocals atop it all. And while the band was undeniably skilled, their entire set melded into one singular sound: the twang of an acoustic guitar. Little invention was involved in the three-piece’s show, and even a midset drum solo was more beat-keeping than skin-pounding. Fans who think Jack Johnson too simple and Ben Harper too complex, however, would find a safe haven in JBT’s grooves.

The Black Kids
3:15-4:15pm, Citi Stage
Back in the ’70s, David Bowie was notoriously sloppy in concert — but there was something eclectic about his coke-fueled, off-pitch ramblings on stage. Our generation’s closest approximation to that might just be the Black Kids, whose supremely catchy brand of art-rock is hard to deny despite an overall messy presentation. Reggie and Ali Youngblood, who share vocal responsibilities and duel on guitar and keyboard respectively, are quite enigmatic in concert: Reggie sings barely above a whisper at times; Ali, meanwhile, shouts more than sings. The rest of the five-piece ensemble was engagingly loose throughout the set, running through the instrumental hooks on hits like “Look At Me” as if everyone was playing a solo. So maybe that wise-assed Pitchfork review of the Kids’ debut LP was a little harsh; the band just needs to mature a little.

G. Love & Special Sauce
4:15-5:15pm, AT&T Stage
Though he essentially writes the same song over and over again, Philly’s G. Love & Special Sauce was quite a set for bros and babes. The hipster’s sound is pure acoustic funk, tossed around with some Southern blues for good measure — the band’s bassist played an extremely authentic stand-up bass throughout the show. And if there was a thesis to be offered from leadman G, it’s this: dude loves weed. Just check the lyrics from, umm, “Who’s Got the Weed”: “Who’s got the weed?/I got the weed…Legalize it/Decriminalize it/I’ll advertise it.”

Blues Traveler
5:15-6:15pm, MySpace Stage
Plagued by more than a decade of popular irrelevance, Blues Traveler’s John Popper did a smart thing with his setlist for Sunday’s show: instead of drifting too far into the group’s latter-day output, he previewed just three songs from BT’s new disc and used each one as a launch pad for much better-known material. The first anonymous track, for instance, quickly morphed into “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” — a thinly-veiled vehicle for Popper’s harmonica skills, as the heavyweight frontman hit the violin solos note-for-note throughout the cover. Next came a hybrid that lead to “Run Around,” which sounded fantastic even fifteen years after its chart debut. Then came an impressive, thirty minute blues jam — the day’s longest if you discount Girl Talk’s unending DJ set — that culminated in Cheap Trick’s “I Want You to Want Me” and the band’s own “Hook,” both of which are quintessential tracks for a beer-drinker’s end-of-summerfest. So I guess Blues Traveler left me dually surprised: firstly because they still tour, secondly because they sound so tight.

Gnarls Barkley
6:15-7:15pm, AT&T Stage
Though Cee Lo’s stage mobility is limited by his weight, the GB frontman’s vocals certainly are not. One of my most chilling Lollapalooza memories, in fact, was walking away from Gnarls’ Sunday set towards the other end of Grant Park — all while Lo’s haunting upper register approximated perfectly the verses from Radiohead’s “Reckoner,” which GB has taken to playing in concert as of late. His voice literally hung high above everything else going on at that moment: Girl Talk’s party set on the Citi Stage, The National’s opening moments on the PS3 Stage, even the streaming waters of Buckingham Fountain. The rest of Gnarls’ show was similarly exotic, from a daunting run through “I’m Going On” to a crowd-pleasing rendition of “Crazy.” (I saw a girl who couldn’t have been more than three singing every lyric to the latter.) This was my first Gnarls show, and I have to admit that I was nervous about the band’s ability to translate electronic album tracks into live instrumentation. But the GB outfit, from Danger Mouse (onstage, the dude always looks like a mad scientist) to a duo of schoolgirl back-up singers, proved entirely capable of doing just that.

The National
7:15-8:15pm, PS3 Stage
The National’s Boxer, one of 2007’s best indie albums, has kept the band touring for almost a year now. And I really wish I didn’t miss them open for R.E.M. at Chicago’s United Center, because the dreary pianos and lullaby guitars of their sonic landscape might have sounded nice in an arena. At Lollapalooza, much of the subtle instrumentation was lost in the wind, and frontman Matt Berninger’s sea-deep baritone was drowned out by the bustle of the audience. That said, “Fake Empire” and “Mistaken for Strangers” sounded great — but those two tracks mark the entirety of the National’s repertoire with enough crunch to cater to festival fans.

Kanye West
8:30-10:00pm, AT&T Stage
Having attended Bonnaroo earlier this summer, I’ve already been involved in some festival-related Kantroversy: namely the two-hour wait ‘Ye forced on some 60,000 Manchester music fans without explanation or apology. Back then, he learned the hard way that fest-goers — no matter their drug-addled inability to grasp the concept of time — will notice an extended delay, and that their reaction might be less than enthusiastic. So kudos to Kanye for starting his Lollapalooza set immediately at 8:30, despite the decision to ditch his acclaimed Glow in the Dark Show (and its complicated technics) to do so. Instead, Kanye presented a simpler lights show and switched up the order of his setlist for maximal adrenaline as opposed to maximal euphoria. (“Stronger,” in its jungle-heavy remix form, took the final spot in lieu of “Homecoming” — which was played mid-show.) The show’s highlights, of course, had more to do with Kanye’s band than his swagger: a cover of Young Jeezy’s “Put On” (as in “I put on for my city”) was blissfully electronic; a show-stopping “Good Life,” in spite of Kanye’s incessant reliance on a vocoder, showcased the most syrupy synths this side of sap; and Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” during the encore was pitch-perfect and drenched in nostalgia. (I’ll also admit that flashing an image of Chicago’s own Smurfit-Stone Building during “Diamonds” was quite the aesthetic touch.) And hey, what’s a Kanye show without ego? This time around, Mr. West compared himself to Hendrix, James Brown and God many other great performers. But I’ve seen him enough to know that the magic’s in the music, not the mouth.

Lollapalooza: Day 2

If you call Lollapalooza ’08 the best music under the sun, you mean it quite literally: this year’s Chicago-area festival rocked and rolled through three days of over 90 degrees in scenic Grant Park. And with a lineup boasting area faves like Wilco and Kanye alongside modern-day legends like Radiohead and Rage Against the Machine, some are calling it Lolla’s best year ever. I was there to test that claim — and I continue today with coverage of Saturday, a largely unfamiliar day of music for me.

MGMT
4:00-4:30pm, MySpace Stage
Counting Bonnaroo, I’ve now seen the last half hour of two MGMT shows — and the band certainly plays by the “all’s well that ends well” rule of spectacle. During the final stretch of their Lollapalooza set, the band went from “Electric Feel” to “Time to Pretend” to “Kids”: all three huge songs from their critically-beloved debut Oracular Spectacular. “Time to Pretend,” as usual, exercised one of the catchiest riffs from all of Saturday; better yet was “Kids,” whose central electric motif sounds like something the Killers would’ve loved to have written. And sure, MGMT will eventually need to learn how to amplify its guitar and rhythm sections as not to be overpowered by pre-recorded synth lines — but I guess when you write riffs like this and this, guitars are the least of your worries.

Explosions in the Sky
4:30-5:30pm, Bud Light Stage
Certainly there’s an injustice in Explosions in the Sky — a trippy instrumental outfit from Austin — playing their entire set in broad daylight while Wilco played “Sky Blue Sky” in nighttime darkness on the same stage. (Maybe not injustice; at very least irony.) That’s because Explosions specializes in writing slow, sad, psychadelic songs, few of which clock in at less than eight minutes. And being entirely unfamiliar with their recorded output, I can’t name a single track they played on Saturday — but suffice it to say this: in their quieter moments, Explosions is content to ingrain simple, repetitive guitar lines into your head; at their loudest, the band consistently evokes the sheer paranoia of Pink Floyd’s “Great Gig in the Sky” with nary a lyric. Great things, evidently, happen in the sky.

Okkervil River
5:30-6:30pm, PS3 Stage
Another bout of new music for me, Okkervil River was billed as The Cure-meets-Spoon by my Lollapalooza brochure. And with lead singer Will Sheff — who looks like a less mainstream David Cook — decked out in a suit and skinny tie, at least Okkervil’s image was half Cure (the emo part) and half Spoon (the sophistication). But their sound was not — teaching me that not even in a festival as credible as Lolla should you trust a band’s reputation, nor should you judge a book by its cover. Instead, judge a band by its covers: like Okkervil’s mid-set take on the Beach Boys’ “Sloop John B,” which turned their whole show into a damn good time. Similarly enchanting were new songs like “A Hand to Take Hold of the Scene,” played live with a full brass band. Ultimately, Okkervil’s entire set turned my expectations on their head.

Broken Social Scene
6:30-7:00pm, Bud Light Stage
Broken Social Scene is kind of a giant indie family, with a roster that’s incorporated nearly twenty members over the years. But for ‘Palooza, the band numbered about ten — with a few extended introductions for more famous members injected throughout the show. The band’s sound, however, is still a mystery to me: shades of punk, emo-pop, blues-rock and even shoegazing floated in and out, with nothing really resonating during their first half hour. (I left to see Lupe at 7:00.) That said, BSS is taking some of the highest praise in the wake of their hourlong set, which makes me feel like I missed something either while I was there or during the show’s last thirty minutes.

Lupe Fiasco
7:00-7:30pm, AT&T Stage
Back in May, it surprised me when Lupe played Chicago’s United Center without a full band; granted, that was an ephemeral opening gig for some dude named Kanye. Then in June, Lupe showed up for Bonnaroo without a band — once again testing the appeal of two mics and a giant soundsystem to a crowd of thousands. But an hourlong slot at Lollapalooza, set in the heart of the city he calls home, was finally enough for Lupe to bring out the brass, as hip-hop’s deftest emcee rolled through a full sixty minutes with accompaniment fit for a jazz show. I only caught the last half, which was enough to hear new hits like “Paris, Tokyo” and a Matthew Santos-assisted “Superstar” — which eventually turned into six minutes of jamming and freestyle to close the show. And wake up, Mr. West: Lupe Fiasco’s “Daydreamin’,” still the best live rap song I’ve ever heard, is enough to put your whole ego to sleep.

Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings
7:30-8:30pm, PS3 Stage
Perry Farrell, of Jane’s Addiction fame, was supposed to wow Lolla’s Saturday crowd with a ‘Special Guest’ at 3:30pm. That unearned anticipation cost me thirty minutes of MGMT’s afternoon set, and the special guest (who strolled out well past 4:00) turned out to be Samantha Ronson — whose “Built This Way” was barely a hit after making the soundtrack of Mean Girls in 2006. My point is this: much more exciting were Sharon Jones’ special guests, who turned the soul singer’s hourlong set into the premier non-headliner slot of all of Lollapalooza. First came Syl Johnson, a Chicagoan blues legend, who duetted with Jones on his day-old hit “Diff’rent Strokes.” Johnson ended the jam with 20 consecutive hits of his signature dance move — quite a display for a man of 72. Then Jones went from an old man to a young man: she invited a cargo-panted, college-aged gentleman on stage for “Be Easy,” admitting that she was looking for someone “she could go to jail for.” The ensuing scene (see below) was one of comic genius: the dude introduced himself as ‘Adam Love,’ and his wife of one year as Dana; Sharon mock-humped Adam to teach him how to “slow it down” for the ladies; Adam danced in perfect step throughout the entire extended jam; and Jones ended the ordeal by dedicating the song to Love’s long-forgotten wife. (“Was it Donna?” she asked.) The rest of Jones’ set was incredibly enjoyable, including rollicking takes on “Nobody’s Baby” (during which audience members were her backup singers) and “100 Days, 100 Nights.” So while Jones might not yet be a household name, she’s undoubtedly the hardest-working woman in show business.

Rage Against the Machine
8:30-10:00pm, AT&T Stage
For me, seeing Rage Against the Machine was a culmination of five years of introverted teenage angst. Back in middle school, the band’s self-titled debut was my album-du-coeur — with the ensuing Evil Empire and Battle of L.A. representing two discs to which I knew every lyric. So I can’t exactly call RATM’s Saturday-night set anything less than magical, despite countless interruptions by lead singer Zack de la Rocha to ask the moshing crowd to back up “5 to 10 steps.” Sure, it was weird hearing rock’s angriest band plead with its crowd to simmer down. And sure, the band could have sounded tighter, more focused, and better synchronized on huge hits like “Bulls on Parade” and “Guerrilla Radio.” But nothing can take away from the highlights of Rage’s set: an extended “Wake Up,” in the midst of which de la Rocha launched into an anti-Republican, anti-Democrat rant; a brilliant “Bombtrack,” with Tom Morello’s guitar and Timmy C.’s bass pairing perfectly; and the one-two punch of “Freedom” and “Killing in the Name” during the encore, the two Rage songs that stress Brad Wilk’s two-toned cowbells. The set was probably more enjoyable for me as I was removed from the mosh pit; at one point, a friend of mine sputtered out from the crowd, dazed and covered in dirt, with the singular goal of getting the hell out of Grant Park. But my intentions couldn’t have been further from that: I would have rocked with Rage until the dawn, and the band left the impression that — if not for Lolla’s tight scheduling restrictions — they would have too.

Lollapalooza: Day 1

If you call Lollapalooza ’08 the best music under the sun, you mean it quite literally: this year’s Chicago-area festival rocked and rolled through three days of over 90 degrees in scenic Grant Park. And with a lineup boasting area faves like Wilco and Kanye alongside modern-day legends like Radiohead and Rage Against the Machine, some are calling it Lolla’s best year ever. I was there to test that claim — and I start today with coverage of Friday, the weekend’s hottest day by far.

The Go! Team
2:15-3:15pm, Bud Light Stage
“I wanna teach you some lyrics, but they’re in Japanese,” said Go! Team vocalist Ninja near the end of her band’s rousing, Red-Bull-in-a-china-shop Friday set. “Do it, do it, alright!” she proceded. The crowd, myself included, mimicked the line until the song’s delayed intro — when Ninja conceded: “Alright, it’s not really Japanese.” But no one stopped singing. Try as it might, even a scene like this can’t capture the full energy, comedy and overall absurdity of The Go! Team’s show; needless to say, the band earned its titular exclamation point. Crowd favorites like “Ladyflash” and “The Power Is On” were hard and hook-filled, while newer stuff like “Grip Like A Vice” proved that the band doesn’t play anything you can’t party to. Ultimately, the engaging mix of live instrumentation and recorded layers of horns made hundreds of instant fans while keeping the old ones as well.

Duffy
3:15-4:15pm, PS3 Stage
Knowing she’s as close as Lollapalooza gets to a sex symbol, Duffy strolled out for her 3:15 show in a red-and-white collared, short blue dress: a safe choice because it’s meant for the UK but translates in America. Her set focused around her ’08 debut Rockferry, a disc purchased primarily by music fans who also wear white collars. And while that’s a great demographic for CD sales, it’s also one that stays far, far away from festivals like Lollapalooza — so Duffy played only twenty minutes of recognizable music, namely her word-of-mouth smash “Mercy” and a one-off Stones cover. Lesser known were album tracks like “Serious” and “Hanging On Too Long,” which proved much more forgettable than the sixties-era classics they’re derived from. Even more forgettable? Duffy’s nonexistent personality, buffered only by nagging complaints about the weather; those just left the songstress hot, but in the wrong way.

The Black Keys
4:15-5:15pm, Bud Light Stage
It’s quite amazing how loud the Black Keys were for a blues band; more amazing was that their sound eminated from two players. First there’s Dan Auerbach, resident riffer and vocalist, who managed to play guitar solos atop chord progressions without difficulty. Then there’s Pat Carney, a skinsman for the ages, who looked so grungy and nomadic that he must be insured with Geico. (He grinned just once during the set after an extended “The Breaks”; the smile was well-earned.) Together, they rocked through well-synched takes on song after song from their extensive back catalogue — carefully avoiding the majority of this year’s Attack & Release, largely due to the complexity of Danger Mouse’s layered production on that album. But “Strange Times” and “I Got Mine,” both from Attack, were phenomenal. So too were “Your Touch,” “10 A.M. Automatic” and “Stack Shot Billy” — though I can’t help but wonder just how much crowd applause was earned by the Keys and how much was for the setting sun.

Cat Power
5:15-6:15pm, PS3 Stage
Much like Cat Power’s Chan Marshall drifts in and out of reality, I drifted in and out of her set on late Friday afternoon. In retrospect, doing so was one of my bigger mistakes: neither food, water nor bathroom should have kept me from her band’s spot-on impersonation of Big Brother & the Holding Company. Truth be told, though, I wouldn’t have recognized Marshall without a Lollapalooza brochure; my one belated remark during her set was that it sounded “much too happy to be Cat Power.” Indeed it was: Chan played a covers set with the Dirty Delta Blues band, meaning her sound was much less singer-songwriter than normal. I guess if you’re in Chicago, you might as well play the blues.

The Raconteurs
6:15-7:45pm, Bud Light Stage
As soon as the Raconteurs opened their set with a rollicking “Consolers of the Lonely,” Jack White made clear the difference between a good and a great lyricist: the former writes lines, the latter writes stories. In an hour and a half, he rolled through multiple narratives with his three-piece Nashville ensemble — who played so loud that I had to relocate to avoid an echo effect near the first row of speakers. Highlights included the snarling “Top Yourself” and the cautionary “Many Shades of Black,” both from new disc Consolers of the Lonely, and classics like “Steady, As She Goes” held up well over time. White’s classic spirit was on full display during the show: his in-concert call-and-response sections, full-on band breaks and stage antics seemed culled from rock ‘n roll gamesmen of the past, and his blue-ribbon riff during a guitar duel with co-lead-singer Brendan Benson evoked Eddie Van Halen. (Benson, on the other hand, won the night’s vocal battle, as his rich, paternal tones proved pitch-perfect in the wake of Jack’s screeches.) The Raconteur’s defining moment, however, was neither White’s nor Benson’s. Instead, the band’s extended take on Dave Van Ronk’s “Keep It Clean” was the dirtiest, funkiest seven minutes of the day — with White and Benson’s synchronizing shredding a testament to their well-trained collective ear. Behind every great storyteller, evidently, lies an even greater listener.

Radiohead
8:00-10:00pm, AT&T Stage
From afar, Radiohead’s Friday night lights might have seemed a bit perfunctory. The band stopped on a dime at ten o’clock, avoided any brand new or tired material (“Creep,” as per usual) and managed a few rarities (“Dollars and Cents,” “The Gloaming”) before calling it quits. But the airtight set was much, much more than that: it was an exercise in perfect timing from a band whose professionalism is starting to match its creativity. After opener “15 Step” — also the first track from new disc In Rainbows, which was played in full during the show — the band eventually got to “Nude,” and the lyric “Don’t get any big ideas/They’re not gonna happen” took on a new meaning for meandering fans trying to push forward in a crowd of nearly 100,000. Then came an unplanned, half-hour bout of Lake Michigan fireworks in the midst of a bass-heavy “Everything in its Right Place,” and for that moment everything kinda was. Other moments were similarly cosmic: the barrage of beach balls during an oddly exuberant “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi”; the shimmering, rhythmic lights changing tempos with a pitch-perfect “Paranoid Android”; even a collision of lights and fire through the singalong chorus of “Fake Plastic Trees.” So minor setlist complaints aside (no “Karma Police,” no “You and Whose Army?”), Radiohead countered Lollapalooza’s hottest day with its coolest night.

The Year’s Best Albums (Thus Far)

Like any year, 2008 has seen good and bad moments in music: inevitable highs (R.E.M., Coldplay) and lows (Flo Rida’s, umm, “Low”) started hitting the charts as soon as Radiohead released the year’s to-be best (In Rainbows) on January 3rd. But after filtering out the schmaltz, ’08 is shaping up to be a pretty good year in music — though any record exec, including the ones who still have their jobs, might disagree. Below is my Top Ten from the first half of this year.

10. R.E.M., Accelerate
There was a time not too long ago when critics and fans alike thought that R.E.M. should be put to sleep. The band’s latter-day album catalogue was continually waning, and newer hits like “Everybody Hurts” were just a parody of older, better hits from the band that more or less invented college rock. Then came Accelerate, a great new collection of songs lead off by the instantly hooky “Supernatural Superserious.” The best part? The new disc ain’t that serious. Opener “Living Well is the Best Revenge” is R.E.M. having fun being mean; “Man-Sized Wreath,” on the other hand, is as wacky as its title. Ultimately, the eleven-song set excels at saying “don’t count us out just yet” with a smile.

9. Robyn, Robyn
There’s a smartness to seemless pop music, and Robyn’s R&B IQ might just be a little higher than yours. On Robyn, her long-delayed third album, the Swedish pop princess makes clear that her intentions are to beat your best beat — and she absolutely succeeds in doing so. There’s a song named after a Dave Chappelle skit (“Konichiwa Bitches”), one named after a Madonna track (“Who’s That Girl?”) and even one dedicated to every other actress in Hollywood (“Crash and Burn Girl”). But better yet are Robyn’s personal songs, which paint her as pop’s premier anti-romantic: first there’s “Handle Me” (you can’t), closely followed by “Be Mine” (you never will). Both mix electric beats with somber strings, and both are as danceable as they are depressing. But I guess there’s a certain smartness in sadness too.

8. Coldplay, Viva La Vida (review here)
Coldplay released Viva La Vida — their fourth and best full-length — in the height of summer, and the first line of the first single (“Violet Hill”) is something about a “long and dark December.” Then come lyrics about gun-toting priests, carnivals of idiots and, oh yeah, love. So while it’s not exactly what you expected, it’s still Coldplay — which might as well be the byline of this album. Now well on its way to international platinum status, Viva is somewhat of a tour-de-force as far as blockbuster albums go, packing more invention and ferocity into its first two singles than in the entirety of Coldplay’s back catalogue. Basically, this album is the one that starts Coldplay’s new future — an interesting note given that its lyrics, many of which criticize society and its talking heads, are very much rooted in the past. On the title track, for instance, Chris Martin details the fall of a roaming empire; on proper album closer “Death and All His Friends,” meanwhile, he’s preoccupied with his forlorn fate — the same fate that eventually buries each and every one of us. But that unending everymanism is what underlies Coldplay’s success, and it’s quite interesting to see a band sneak in criticisms of the same masses to which it caters.

7. MGMT, Oracular Spectacular
If you must, take time to scoff at MGMT’s laughably-ridiculous debut album title. Then play the thing and you won’t stop laughing ’til it’s done. After two years of hipster ridicule, Connecticut’s MGMT have transformed themselves from the band you laugh at into the band you laugh with — and the first ten tracks of their career are the source. Opener and lead single “Time to Pretend,” for one, is a rollicking look at rockstar-ism: “Choke on our vomit/That will be the end,” sings the group on the track. “We’re fated to pretend.” The rest of Oracular is a similar mockery of pretension, with danceable electronica and heavy drums making up the majority of the aural aspect. But ultimately, the band proves its mastery of the concept that making fun of other people’s good times is itself a damn good time.

6. Santogold, Santogold
On the fifth track from her debut LP, Brooklyn’s Santogold calls herself a “creator” — but she sounds much more swamp creature than creator on the album. One reason for that might be the disc’s murky production, which melds together reggae, dub, punk, electronica, trance and even a little bit of hip-hop on its twelve songs. Another might be her shaky vibrato, which sounds sinister on lines like “I’m a lady” and sweet on lines like “Shove your hope where it don’t shine.” But most likely to blame is Santo’s general presence on the record, as the up-and-coming songwriter always seems to hover above and beyond the distorted disturbia bleeding from your speakers. Never has a voice so distant been so clearly here to stay.

5. Lil Wayne, Tha Carter III
If you released a mixtape-per-minute like Lil Wayne, you probably wouldn’t have time to listen to your peers’ output. But as Weezy makes clear on Tha Carter III, today’s best hip-hop draws from the past. Just check the album’s cover, where Wayne’s baby-face alludes to similar images of Nas on Illmatic and Biggie on Ready to Die. The album’s title, meanwhile, evokes the three-part CD series of Jay-Z and Kanye, both of which (arguably) culminated in the third installment. So too does Weezy’s series: TC III is a pitch-perfect rendering of all of Wayne’s idiosyncrasies, from his syrupy alien flow to his lol/omg/wtf?!? lyrics. Like any rap CD, it doesn’t all work; the “Snap Yo Fingers” rehash of “Got Money” is one particular lowlight. But not since Dr. Octagon has funk met finesse like on “Dr. Carter,” and not since beefing with Nas has Jay-Z worked so hard not to be outrapped (listen to “Mr. Carter”). Better yet? Jay is indeed outdone, as there’s a newer, better Carter in town.

4. The Raconteurs, Consolers of the Lonely
“How you gonna top yourself?” purrs Jack White to a former lover on “Top Yourself,” the seventh track from The Raconteurs’ sophomore disc Consolers of the Lonely: “Guess you better get yourself a sugar daddy to help you!” The line is both comic and cruel, not unlike White’s cynicism with the White Stripes, but it cuts deeper because Jack seems constantly involved in his own endgame to, well, top himself. Such is the case with all of Consolers, where he and co-lead-singer Brendan Benson duel to write the best song the Rolling Stones never did. And they come pretty damn close: “Many Shades of Black” swirls from traditional rhythm and blues into a manic, six-eight march; “Hold Up” draws equally from the Bar-Kays and Tom Petty; even first single “Salute Your Solution” closes with a funky, full-band singalong. And unlike with the Stripes, where Jack’s production pallette is basically limited to drums and guitars, this Raconteurs album is chock full of Sixties studio staples: shimmering tambourines, Memphis horns, dirty organs, even saloon piano. The band’s lyrics, meanwhile, are cloaked as ominous threats; even on the delightful alt-country tune “Old Enough,” Benson sings words of warning: “Maybe when you’re old enough/You’ll realize you aren’t so tough/And some days the seas get rough, you’ll see.” Put simply, Consolers is leagues ahead of the Raconteurs’ debut, and it really makes you realize just how much these dudes wish they played during the birth of rock ‘n roll. If only they were old enough.

3. Portishead, Third (review here)
On “Machine Gun,” the first single from Portishead’s third LP, Geoff Barrow establishes parallelism with percussion that sounds like shots being fired. (Talk about a little drummer boy.) But on disc opener “Silence,” the band is found at its absolute noisiest. So here’s my point: try as you might, you can’t figure out the mechanism(s) behind Portishead. Sometimes lead singer Beth Gibbons is lively and hopeful, as on “Deep Water” (“Deep waters won’t scare me tonight”); other times she’s just hopefully alive (“I am nowhere,” from “Plastic”). Her band’s only constant is its mystery, from its ever-elusive melodies to even weirder instrumentation. Third features wobbly percussive loops, tweaky horns, eery synths and battered guitars, all of which mold a sound that matches the creepiness of knowing something’s there even when you can’t see it. Perhaps that’s the comfort of deep waters: never do they leave Portishead unhidden.

2. Girl Talk, Feed the Animals
A common misconception among popular DJs is that their primary goal is to get the party started. But Gregg Gillis, the one-man mastermind sporting the mash-up moniker Girl Talk, knows he’s there to keep it from stopping. 2008’s Feed the Animals, another dose of Gillis’ everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach to remixing, is his most expansive set yet — and his most rewarding for baby boomers through baby mommas, as it culls not only from modern rap but also from classic rock. Just listen to opener “Play Your Part (Part 1),” which explodes into a mindmeld of The Spencer Davis Group’s “Gimme Some Lovin'” and UGK’s “Int’l Player’s Anthem” in mere seconds. Similarly intoxicating is the entirety of “Still Here,” which goes from Youngbloodz/Procul Harum to “Flashing Lights”/”No Diggity” and manages to incorporate Radiohead, The Band, Yung Joc, Ace of Base and 50 Cent on the way. And that’s one track. In total, the whole mixtape runs for fifty uninterrupted minutes through five consecutive decades — making clear that where other DJs stress drum ‘n bass, Girl Talk stresses cut ‘n paste.

1.5. The Black Keys, Attack & Release (review here)
Omitted from my original list, and for no good reason: the Black Key’s Attack & Release is the group’s best to date. For the first time on record, the band sounds like more than just a duo — thanks no doubt to Danger Mouse’s fill-in-the-blanks production style, on display in full force throughout Attack. It’s he who provides the banjos, pianos, basslines, atmospherics and organs; the Keys respond with a heavy dose of battered, blue-eyed lyricism and Sabbath-serious riffing. (“You see me out your window,” sings leader Dan Auerbach at one point, “Even when you close the blinds”; the line takes on new meaning in the context of Danger Mouse not overproducing the Keys’ signature sound.) But with drum fills that sound like guitar riffs and guitar riffs that sound like drum fills, it’s hard to mistake this disc for anyone but the world’s only Akron-based blues outfit.

1. Radiohead, In Rainbows
Leave it to Radiohead to release 2007 and 2008’s best disc with one swift stroke: In Rainbows, released digitally in October ’07 and physically in January ’08, earned the band a second #1 album and their highest critical marks since the last #1 (2000’s Kid A). The record is a return to form with significant returns, as Radiohead’s pay-what-you-want distribution scheme generated a rumored $10 million in digital sales alone. But more important than the album’s economy is Thom Yorke’s lyrical economy; terse metaphors like “I’m just an animal/Trapped in your hot car” make In Rainbows Radiohead’s sexiest yet, and the instant gratification of the band’s poppiest hooks since ’95’s The Bends confirm the hedonism. “Bodysnatchers” sounds like early Pearl Jam, which is interesting because Radiohead debuted in the heights of grunge. And “All I Need” is ’90s trip hop in the vein of the Primitive Radio God’s “Phone Booth.” But despite those few classic turns, Rainbows is the sound of a band so ahead of their time that they already know we’re all doomed to hell. Just note the simple chorus from the Bush-aimed “House of Cards”: “Denial…denial,” sings Yorke, putting into words a greater criticism than the greatest pundit. His band, at this point in their lofty career, is as easy to like as their lyrical targets are to hate.

Trailer Predictions

August is going to be a pretty lame month of movies. As we watch “The Dark Knight” topple record after record, “Pineapple Express” is likely to be the only thing that gets me to the theatre. So, that’s a good excuse to start looking toward Oscar season, because believe it or not, we know more than we did four months ago. Using Kris Tapley’s list of Best Picture contenders, I found that eight movies currently have trailers released. I don’t know if it’s possible to judge a movie by the trailer accurately, but since many people decide whether they will see a movie depending on the trailer, I think it’s fair to judge its Oscar prospects in the same mentality. Here’s my best attempt:

Australia: This is, I think, going to be what “Pearl Harbor” wanted to be. Baz Luhrmann’s project looks like an epic, but it’s impossible not to wonder if he’s aiming a little big here. It’s funny, because in the trailer, Nicole Kidman’s look is very similar to hers in “Moulin Rouge” and it took a minute to remind that both are Luhrmann’s. I think Nicole has a better shot at an Oscar nom than Jackman from the look of things, but I’m not convinced we have a Best Picture nomination here. If it connects, if Luhrmann doesn’t miss a note, it’s epic enough to win Oscar gold from the look of things. But if it misses, even a little, I don’t think it gets nominated.

Blindness: I saw this trailer during my first “Dark Knight” viewing, and boy, I didn’t see that coming. It is, for me, the favorite right now to win Best Picture. I mentioned to a friend in the theatre it has a “Children of Men” vibe to it, and if Cuaron has had an influence on Fernando Meirelles (“Constant Gardener”), watch out. The reviews from Cannes weren’t great, but we all know there’s a long time between Cannes and release day. This looks like a powerful movie believing in people, and it looks like both Julianne Moore and Gael Garcia Bernal will put in dynamic performances. I’m excited.

Body of Lies: Not surprising that after the success of “American Gangster,” Ridley Scott’s next turn is another movie that looks to be about 99% between two actors. This goes against about everything that I normally believe, but the trailer actually makes Russell Crowe’s performance look better than Leo’s. I think it’s going to be one fun movie, and one Hell of a ride, but I don’t see it being a product the Academy would love. If they can fit Crowe into the Supporting Actor category, it seems like that might be the best road to a nomination.

Burn After Reading: This is obviously going to come with big expectations, because it’s the Coen Brothers first effort since “No Country.” It’s a monster cast, but it’s a different vision than most Oscar contenders. I don’t deny that with this cast, this is going to be a good movie. But it also looks like the Coens went to humor here, and it probably means an 0-for-nominations. Maybe something in supporting for Malkovich or McDormand, and maybe another screenplay, but no wins and no Best Picture. Move along.

Curious Case of Benjamin Button: I know better than to predict too much from a David Fincher movie, who is an all-or-nothing director if there is one. At worst, in my opinion, he makes the movie 200 minutes long and feel longer than “Zodiac.” At best, Brad Pitt wins an Oscar, and Cate Blanchett and the fabulous (fabulous!) Taraji Henson get Academy talk. I think it’s more likely to see a win from an actor in this movie than the movie as a whole, but that’s only after a 90-second trailer.

Defiance: Not everyone loves Edward Zwick, but one can only hope that his WWII epic is the compilation of what he learned in “Glory” and “Blood Diamond” and “The Last Samurai.” It looks fabulous; for me, second behind “Blindness” in the best trailers of the bunch. I think Liev Schreiber might be in good position to get a nod from the Academy, which is nice. I don’t know if I believe in Daniel Craig enough to say he gets a leading nomination. Instead, I think it’s more likely the film, which looks a little more put together than WWII counterparts “Australia” and “Miracle at St. Anna”, is nominated for Best Picture.

Happy-Go-Lucky: An off-the-wall choice by Tapley, clearly trying to throw in a few underdogs on his list. Surprised this made it and “Hamlet 2” didn’t, frankly, but Tapley spent time in London so I’ll give him credit here. It seems like Sally Hawkins might just be in line for a surprise nomination for playing Poppy, but I doubt this movie has the legs to make it all the way. Too cutesy, and while some would say that about “Juno,” I think Diablo Cody’s script did have some edge.

Miracle at St. Anna: This is Spike Lee’s biggest undertaking in years, certainly more so than the forgettable “Inside Man” that is referenced in the trailer. I haven’t liked a Lee movie a great deal in 16 years, since Denzel Washington nailed “Malcolm X” into my memory. This is much more of an ensemble cast than this, so this is the opposite of Benjamin Button: it’s more likely a Best Picture nomination than anything from the actors. I think it misses the mark slightly, though, falling short to Defiance and aiming a bit too large like Australia.

Most Likely Best Picture Nominees: Blindness, Defiance, Curious Case of Benhamin Button, Australia
Most Likely Best Actor Nominees: Brad Pitt, Daniel Craig
Most Likely Best Actress Nominees: Julianne Moore, Sally Hawkins, Nicole Kidman
Most Likely Best Supporting Actor Nominees: Heath Ledger, Russell Crowe, Liev Schreiber, John Malkovich, Gael Garcia Bernal
Most Likely Best Supporting Actress Nominees: Cate Blanchett, Frances McDormand, Taraji Henson

Best Guess at 5 Best Picture Nominees: Blindness, Changeling, Defiance, Milk, Revolutionary Road.