The Trailer Issue Vol. 4

Milk - Looks to be this year's Capote, where a formulaic (see average) movie is propped up by an excellent performance.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - People talking about a David Fincher movie as a best picture candidate is awesome but the only things you are hearing about the Fitzgerald short story adaptation is that it's too long.

Rachel Getting Married - From a friend: "It's the best movie, oh my god!"

Sukiyaki Western Django - Tossing a Quentin Tarantino monologue at the beginning of a trailer might not be the best way to sell a movie but Miike's stylish schlock will be as much fun as Waterworld.

Ballast - From the Gus Van Sant school of filmmaking; non-actors, gorgeous widescreen photography, and a story driven by blank stares.

Synecdoche, New York - I have a headache already. Everything you read suggests that Charlie Kaufman's first directorial debut cannot be understood after one showing. Let's hope this thing is good enough to sit through multiple viewings.

Quantum of Solace - Casino Royale was the Batman Begins of 2006, so couldn't Quantum of Solace be the Dark Knight of the Winter. Probably not but Marc Forster, director of Monster's Ball/Finding Neverland, lends Nolanesque auteur credibility.

The Village Petstore and Charcoal Grill

An unassuming West Village storefront located between the kitschy Jekyll & Hyde and Sushi Samba, has become the spot of Banksy's first New York City Exhibition. The installation uses animatronic animals and processed food, like fish stricks "swimming" in a fishbowl or chicken nuggets dipping themselves into bbq sauce, "to question our relationship with animals and the ethics and sustainability of factory farming."

What Banksy does better than other street artists is to make the obvious seem like profound observations that you couldn't possibly think of. There's nothing groundbreaking in showing a caged rhesus monkey watching monkey sex on the discovery channel but through the exhibit's flawless execution you'd be hard pressed to leave completely unaffected.

The Village Petstore and Charcoal Grill

Department of Eagles at the Bell House

Besides a live performance on the Conan O’Brien show, the Bell House on Monday was the first time most people could see DOE live. The performance was sketchbooky; a band trying to figure out their live show on the fly. That’s not a criticism. Considering the venue*, which is literally the only thing on the block that isn’t a warehouse, and the fact that Dan Rossen has shared the stage with Radiohead and Paul Simon, the fact that they could go up on stage not knowing exactly what would work was kind of endearing. Even though the band has been around for 8 years, there’s still a feeling that you’re discovering something brand new at this performance space in the middle of nowhere. Highlights ranged from the obviously awesome No One Does It Like You to the brilliant JoJo cover “Too Little Too Late” dedicated to Ed Droste to my man Fred Nicholaus’s understated solo.

Shugo Tokumaru at the Mercury Lounge

We don’t think much of backroad Japan these days; bucolic landscapes have given way to Megatechnolopolises. But while we may be distracted with the animatronic neon sign pointing to the closest arcade, there still exists this overt frontier influence over Japanese culture. Shugo Tokumaru meets at the crossroads of Japan as unexplored frontier land, and Japan as quirky supercomputer. On record what comes out more is sickly sweet anime, apologetic vocals floating over bloops, rings, and jangs. Performing live, the folksy guitar plucker comes out; the fireside banjo player impressing his friends with his nimble fingers.

Guido Castagnoli

Guido Castagnoli's current exhibition at the Sasha Wolf Gallery is an upfront exploration of small Japanese suburbs. The collection is simultaneously reassuring and terrifying. Reassuring that the suburban wasteland isn't exclusively American. Terrifying that the suburban wasteland, once exclusively American is catching on.

Provincial Japan

Electroma

Daft Punk’s Alive 2007 tour was a life affirming moment. The theatrics of it all turned a couple grown men dressed as robots into puppetmasters, controlling the audience with the press of a button or the twist of a knob. Seeing bankers dance like they weren’t bankers or pregnant women dance like they didn’t hate electronic music was eye opening.

I started philosophizing about the battle between humans and robots. One More Time was more than just the song that came after sandstorm on a frat party playlist, it was about breaking free, living life, dancing like no one was watching.

But watching Electroma killed the dream. Sometime after Robot 1 and Robot 2’s human façade are melted away by the sun, you reach the tipping point, where their indulgence and self-importance transforms Daft Punk into ironic self-parody. This was the point all along – to try be taken serious when you’re not – and it’s a far more cynical point to make than the world is becoming dehumanized. So I’m left heroless, spitting up the kool-aid, wondering where the robotic cowboys have gone.

Charlie Wilson's War

No one is better suited than Aaron Sorkin to cram the history of the United States' involvement in the Russian/Afghan war into a tidy hour and a half. It watched more like a two-hour West Wing special than a feature film; pushing through five years of congressional hearings, back room intelligence briefings, and overseas meetings like a freight train. I liked it but was left hoping Sorkin would start a new series, The West Wing: 80s edition.