The Magnetic Monster

No robot monsters here in this 1953 collaboration between Ivan Tors and Curt Siodmak, but there are several machines acting crazy.  Less known than the recently restored in 3-D Gog, The Magnetic Monster is the first Tors film about the fictitious Office of Scientific Investigation, a concept that must have seemed close to reality in 1953.  Recently released on Blu-Ray by Kino Lorber, it looks wonderful in that old school monochrome way of silvery whites and black ink shadows (along with a fair amount of gray in the middle, I admit).

The Magnetic Monster should get more respect just for starring Richard Carlson, stalwart of fifties SF movies in which he repeatedly plays a wonderfully urbane yet competent scientist hero.  It Came From Outer Space and The Creature from the Black Lagoon are the best examples, but Carlson is no less awesomely himself here, all smooth determination in the face of a world-threatening calamity.  This lower budget effort brings him together with the movie trope of implying a monster when the money is not there to actually depict it (which Val Lewton did better than anyone), and of using some truly excellent stock footage as another budget fix (from a German silent film with amazing art direction).  Throw in a pretty unique concept for the monster (I won’t spoil it), some great sections of contrast-heavy black-and-white visuals, and a bit part with Strother “Failure to Communicate” Martin as a pilot, and there is a lot to enjoy here.  If you enjoy this sort of thing–I sure do–then check it out.

Burning Down One Side

I was obsessed with Led Zeppelin from 8th grade through 10th grade, still enjoyed it afterwards, and developed an appreciation for singer Robert Plant’s solo material.  Now and Zen made a big mainstream impact in 1988, and I loved Manic Nirvana in 1990, not so long before a band named Nirvana brought the hair metal era to a close.

1985’s Shaken ‘n’ Stirred was known as the bargain bin album that carried within it the somewhat eerie radio track “Little by Little.”  I admit that I hated this album when I first heard it in mid-9th grade . . . and by somewhere around the end of 9th grade I absolutely adored it.  It was dense, it was weird, time signatures and song structures were unpredictable, but once my brain unlocked this little package of oddness, it was one of my all-time favorites.

Robert Plant’s solo material has been a worthwhile thing all on its own and I was a fan (even seeing him in concert in fall 1990), so how did I avoid hearing his debut album Pictures at Eleven for all these years?  All I know is that I can’t get enough of the opening track:

Let There Be More Blaster Beam

I was once actually going to make one of these.

In 2012, the soundtrack album I had always wanted came out, Jerry Goldsmith’s complete score for Star Trek: The Motion Picture. There had been an expanded edition in January 1999 (“Get a life? No, get this instead!” said a sticker on the album when I bought it at Best Buy) and, while it was an improvement on the original album, it still left out far too much.

So La-La Land Records finally came through and released their magnificent three-disc edition with the complete score, the 1979 original album, early attempts, outtakes of the orchestra being shushed by the conductor, Shaun Cassidy’s surprisingly manly vocals on a pop version of the main theme, a Bob James instrumental, and oh, yes, a track of isolated Blaster Beam.

Seriously, it’s just awesome. The best album ever released. Just buy it already.

Anyway, a year or more later I was able to part with a cruddy old piano that never stayed in tune because thanks to Craig’s List I found a much better free piano. But because disposing pianos is not that easy, I had the old one around for a while and developed a seriously stupid idea. This was to remove the sound board of the piano and try to somehow make it into a blaster beam.

Now, the stupidity comes from the fact that piano strings are very large and tense enough that they can actually be deadly if snapped. I knew that I didn’t want to mess with the strings once I read about them a little, but I thought about removing the sound board whole and attaching bass guitar pickups to it for amplification. But after seeing how thoroughly attached it was to the wood of the piano, I abandoned the idea as impractical and just plain stupid.

But there are some intrepid souls out there who have tried to build their own. And this guy has done a magnificent smaller version with mostly ordinary household items. Check it out:

The Chapman Stick of Dune

It’s been far too long since I’ve posted. Picking up from the Dune soundtrack last time, here is a piece from a Dune deleted scene that showed up in the Alan Smithee-credited extended TV version:

This is the work of Emmett Chapman, inventor of the unique guitar-based instrument known as the Chapman Stick. Here’s a more substantial look at Mr. Chapman and his invention:

Shostakovich, In Toto

Shostakovich’s waltz from the previous post has been given some cinematic glory, especially from the visionary Stanley Kubrick.  Over a decade before, the visionary David Lynch had TOTO keyboardist David Paich compose the score for his epic adaptation of Frank Herbert’s Dune (a project that Lynch had tremendous enthusiasm for, despite his later disowning it).  As Paich remembered, Lynch had Shostakovich’s 11th Symphony in mind for the kind of music he wanted for his film.  As this track demonstrates, Paich and his bandmates ran with that influence and achieved a beautiful result:

Just Another Traum

It’s been a bit of an absence for me, but picking up from “Just Another Dream” here is the easily recognizable second waltz from Dmitri Shostakovich’s “Jazz Suite No. 2.”  Kubrick made it famous in Eyes Wide Shut, which is based on a novel titled Traumnovelle, or “Dream Novel.”  So there, from one dream to another.  (And I have no idea how often it’s been used in this or that . . . it recently showed up in Batman v Superman, but I associate it most with an episode of the Nero Wolfe series with Timothy Hutton and Maury Chaykin.)

Even More Professional

OK, I really like the Professionals now that I’m hearing even more of them, so that’s a good excuse for an obvious transition to another Professionals song.  It’s another silly early ’80s video, but this one is a little more creative.  Also, note that this is an earlier line-up of the band as a three-piece with a different bassist.  Paul Cook and Steve Jones are terribly underrated:

1-2-3

From the three pieces of a triptych is a short step to a song titled “1 2 3.”  This is the Professionals, an underrated and short-lived band started by Steve Jones and Paul Cook, the original two Sex Pistols.  The Professionals were at least the equal of their old band, and some of their material was used in the movie Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains.  In this video, enjoy Steve Jones’ (1) hair and (2) the epic battle with microphone stands.