Reviewing Things: Amy Winehouse and Iron Man 2

Iron Man 2-

The Iron Man franchise acquires its bit of charm primarily through the acting prowess of Robert Downey Jr. I'd like to credit the writers and directors et al, but I'm fairly certain that the panache with which he carries off the role is a quality that only a few actors have. What I'm saying is that Vin Diesel would have killed in this franchise.

Anyhow, the pleasure in both of these movies is that they simultaneously rely on Downey's acting while not taking themselves too seriously, though Christopher Nolan has certainly benefited from taking the formerly campy Batman series to new heights by being deadly serious. I for one am not sure that I could take a whole bevvy of serious super heroes. Superman is kind of annoying.

The movie also includes Don Cheadle in a buddy role and Gwyneth Paltrow as the pseduo love interest. Pretty much the franchise has managed to accrue some excellent actors to get together for an action movie. On the downside the second movie isn't as good as the first. The movie isn't as good as the first because we've already seen Iron Man dealing with his inner demons, they're just of a slightly different variety. The movie doesn't take enough of a different tack to pave its own way. Thus, it's like a second kiss, or your fifth scoop of ice cream.

That isn't to say that it isn't worth watching. It is. It's just only worth watching if you want some brief entertainment, a respite from the real world. Though, to its credit, the overwrought fight scenes are kept to a minimum. The larger question is what are movies for? I don't have that answer though Tree of Life provides an interesting counterpoint. But I've no energy to talk about dinosaurs and the nineteen fifties.

So, this from Jay Caspian King on Amy Winehouse



0:06 She brought her own Pips! Those dance moves, however, are taken straight from the Temptations, probably from some long-forgotten performance of "My Girl." Right away, we're in two eras at once. And isn't it nice that we can have a white girl singing with three black back-up singers who are performing dance moves from the 1960s and the one thought that rises up through all the silly chatter is, "Holy shit, she looks cool." The flower in the hair, the black ruffled lace dress both set the bar high — if you're going to come out dressed like punk Billie Holiday, you better measure up.

0:11 This is called stagger-strutting — it's what you do when you're a bit drunk and want to hint that some better dance moves lurk under the surface, but you're keeping them under lock for when you need them. Standard way to set up a performance like this — lets everyone know you're about to get loose.

0:28 I love the scowl, the half-grimace on the first syllable of "tan-que-ray." Straight out of the Etta James/Mary J. Blige playbook — also known as the "stank exclamation point."

0:56 First time Amy looks straight into the camera and does the half-salute off her rib cage. Any hip-hop fan recognizes that move from every 50 Cent video ever.

1:17 This is where the high-wire act begins — everything up to this point has been referential and imitative. This doesn't mean it's been bad — quite the contrary. But when the song builds and you need to really fuck up some notes, do you have that next level of stank to complete the transmutation and turn this charming, anachronistic parlor scene into something better? Here, Amy blows right through it. Duffy would have fallen flat on her face, by the way. The illusion would have been broken and someone would have said, "Why is this girl pretending like she's Gladys Knight and it's still 1972?"

1:39 That's not a pretty face. But goddamn, when she yells, "My Blake!" who watching this right now doesn't wish that she was yelling your name?

2:09 Mugging the camera again. That's almost a Keith Murray face there.

3:10 Not quite a crotch-grab, more of a coquettish, flirty curtsey. The Marilyn.

4:11 This is the most important point of the performance, where she has to elevate what has been an admittedly flat past minute with theatrics, both vocal and dance-based. She starts out with the parakeet strut, goes to the hand-on-hip-and-point move (but with the Satan salute in lieu of the point), before transitioning straight into the "push you up the hill" move. That's going from two Diana Ross moves straight into an Aretha standard, but all of it done in a staggered, half-cocked way.

5:40 This is where the postmodern, music-blogging brain implodes into a chorus of apologies. I want to apologize for pointing out (fervently) a meaningful (possibly) moment in the life of someone who has just died. I also want to point out that same moment, fervently, for earnest reasons. I want to pooh-pooh anyone who would have the gall to suggest that any televised moment is "real," I want to write 500 words about what the word "real," means in the "zeitgeist," I want to tweet out the video link and the hashtag, but hide behind an ironic emoticon, I want to make a joke about the Grammys and link to the time when Homer Simpson threw his Grammy off the balcony. Despite all these interruptions, it's touching to watch a young woman realize that her life is probably not exactly what she thought her life had been.